Once I began to walk my life became infinitely more interesting due to an old Chinese man who laid upon me two of their most ancient curses the first of which being ‘May you live in interesting times.’ This would most certainly be the case since as other children were playing Cops and Robbers I lived it. I lived then in a sleepy little suburb known as Hurst Texas. If ever there was a town that could be expected to be of no consequence it was Hurst. It’s not some small town out in the boonies. You see if it were then there would always be the possibility of a corporation or a super villain setting up camp there and creating God and I only know what. No Hurst is a suburb of the Dallas Ft Worth metroplex. Big enough to warrant watching but small enough to not generate it’s own noteworthiness. It did however have a juvenile criminal element like no other.
For whatever reason Hurst had no way of properly dealing with it’s toddling crime lords, so that duty fell to me. You see the children were quite clever with their work. What they did was never a crime punishable by the laws of Hurst, but they were nonetheless a dastardly lot. Daycare were riddled with dealers hocking everything from pixi sticks to licorice whips. Not a day went by that some innocent child was strung out on Warheads and sour patch kids. The staff at the daycare did what they could but that wasn’t good enough. It never had been. I had to grow up. I had to grow up fast.
It all started when I got to my daycare on the first day. My parents had told me so many things about how wonderful it would be. I was excited. When we pulled up and I got out and saw another boy just arriving and thought I ought to make my first friend. I walked straight over to him held out my hand and introduced myself and requested his friendship while offering mine. He accepted my hand looking at me telling me his name was Zachariah. Zachariah Hardwick. Yes my nemesis began as my friend. All the best ones do.
As we entered the daycare with our families Zachariah and I were greeted by a horrific scene. Children were everywhere running rampant, no order or law, just utter and complete chaos wherever ones eyes landed. Little boys and little girls giving kisses for a little box of jujubes. Others were knocking back juice boxes while little pieces of cardboard were placed on their arms only to be pulled away revealing their newly affixed gang affiliations. I begged my parents not to leave me here. Anywhere but here. All they did was insist that I would like it after being there a day or two. Zachariah had just as much luck with his parents. We were alone.
Ch 1.3 The Lovely Rochelle