The Big C

This story is based a little bit on fact. My second girlfriend had the same condition and early adolescence experience as the main female character in this story. I am thankful I could help her work through some of her trauma and self-worth. She’s now happily married with four children.

The Big C

“Don’t get any fucking ideas, I don’t like boys!”

Those were the first words Issy Jones ever spoke to me. She was 5 foot 4 inches of ultimate cuteness, long blonde hair, piercing blue eyes and an athletic figure.

Her rather abrupt greeting came as I stopped at her bedroom door to introduce myself.

Issy was a new arrival at Gerry and Gina Ferrall’s foster home… or as I liked to call it ‘The FFF”… Ferrall’s Foster Fuckup. The Ferrall’s saw us fosters kids as just money makers and they were continually trying to squeeze more into their shitty five bedroom house so they didn’t have to work full time. Issy was number six… I’d been number four and had lived there for eighteen months.

For the most part the Ferrall’s left me alone, I was big for my age. Gerry had a temper but he knew to play it cool with me. I already had a reputation for getting into trouble and was on a last warning with the court. Next stop for me would be prison. So we both had something to lose if things got out of hand… for me it would be my freedom and for him it would be money… plus his teeth, nose, and anything else I could break before I was hauled away. So for the most part we kept clear of each other.

There were four other fosters in the house, all boys aged eight to twelve, Issy was the first girl.

My names Jayden Johnson, but everyone calls me Jay. I’d been in and out of foster homes since I was eleven years old. I never knew my birth father and my mother always had a constant string of men in and out of the house. No-one stayed long, they were all jerks who just wanted to get into my mother’s pants. Mom was good looking and had been a teen model before getting pregnant with me at eighteen, her parents kicked her out and she ended up topless waitresing at a roadhouse just outside town. One thing led to another and she started turning tricks to pay for an ever growing cocaine habit. We lived on the bad side of town in a small rented two bedroom apartment. I learned to toughen up pretty quick and knew who to make friends with to survive in the neighborhood. As if things couldn’t get any worse they did on my eleventh birthday when Mom never came home from work. She simply disappeared. The cops concluded she’d been killed by a client or a local drug dealer. They were just guessing but it was probably true. I was put into foster care but kept getting moved around due to my ‘anti-social behavior’… fights at school, petty theft, smoking dope… you get the drift. Anyway I chalked up a few appearances before a magistrate in the youth court but always seemed to get someone who wanted to give me another chance.

I was now eighteen and had eight more months of probation before I could ditch the system and get on with my life. Because I was still at school I had been ordered by the court to stay at the Ferrell’s until my probation was up. Despite this being my sixth foster home I was still doing pretty well at school. I had a knack of retaining information so aced most tests and exams without having to study at all. Every Saturday was community service, I’d been sentenced to 300 hours for graffiting the side of the town hall with a group of housing protesters who’d been evicted from a council owned building… I reckoned it was a justified protest, the city didn’t. Sundays were my only free time and I usually hung out at a gym owned by a group of ex-army guys who ran fitness programs for local youth.

Life was pretty boring to tell the truth. Issy’s arrival was a plus and despite her rather unusual first greeting we ended up getting along okay. She was seventeen and had been in the system for four years. Occasionally at night we’d sit on the steps of the back fire-escape, drinking coffee and smoking a joint. It was nice having someone cute to look at as well, although she’d repeated the no boy’s statement again just to make sure I didn’t try anything. Our friendship developed quickly and I really began to like her. Because we were older neither of us had to share a room, not that you could fit anyone else in our rooms anyway. We had the attic space and our small bedrooms were on either side of the steep stairway. Prison cells would be bigger than our rooms, but at least we had some privacy.

Issy was very shy regarding her body and wore jeans and sweatshirts most of the time at the house. The only time her figure was more noticeable was when she had to wear her school uniform and even then she’d picked sizes that were too big and slightly baggy. But there was no hiding her nice, tanned legs as they descended from under her plaid skirt.

Two months after she arrived there was a knock on my door. Issy entered. She looked anxious.

“I caught Jerry him in my room last week.”

“What?”

“He said he was doing a room check. I think he went through my things.”

“Shit Issy!”

“I want to get out of here, but my case worker said that this is the only placement for me.”

“Yeah you’re not the only one who wants to get out.”

I put my hand on her shoulder and she immediately pulled away.

“No touching me!” she stated forcefully.

“Whoa, sorry.” I was a bit stunned by her reaction. I thought our relationship was better than that. Maybe I was wrong in thinking she was comfortable being around me.

“It’s not just you, it’s all guys.” She explained seeing my shocked face.

“Okay.”

“Sorry, it’s just…”

“Hey, you don’t have to explain, we’ve all been through shit in the system.”

“I wish it was just that.”

I didn’t know what that meant so I didn’t reply.

Issy got up and left without another word. She went to her room and shut the door.

The following day everything seemed fine and we walked to school together as if nothing had happened.

A week before school break I got some good news. I’d been spending my community service hours at a local charity workshop that employed disabled people to make small household items, like brooms, planter boxes. My Saturday job was to do a complete sweep of the warehouse floor and clean the tools and machines. It was a task that usually took all six hours of my allotted service time. Steve, one of the charities trustees would come in and supervise me while he worked in the office. On this particular Saturday I’d arrived to find the place locked up. I peered through a window and saw it was as clean as when I’d left it the previous week. I had Steve’s number so I gave him a call.

“Hey Steve. What’s the story with the warehouse? It’s locked up and looks like it’s already been cleaned.”

“Sorry Jay. Didn’t Russell call you and say not to come in today?

“Nope. So why’s it so tidy?”

“No-ones worked this week. We had a major electrical failure last Monday morning and it took all week to fix, so I sent everyone home. Sorry you should have been told.” Steve apologized.

“Okay. You got anything else I can do to make up my time?” I wanted my community hours to be over as soon as possible so missing a week was not ideal.

“Not there I’m afraid. But I’ll log your hours anyway seeing as how you came in.”

“Great thanks. I guess I’ll go then.”

“Hey Jay. Do you like to smash stuff?” Steve asked before I could end the call.

“What?”

“I have a renovation job in town. Today we’re doing some demolition work. If you want you can come to help. I’ll pay you for your time.”

“Ah, yeah okay. Where is it?”

“I’ll swing by and pick you up… be there in fifteen minutes.”

True to his word Steve arrived right on time. On the way to the job he explained that he had a renovation company and they had a rush job on at a loft apartment.

When we arrived he introduced me to his crew, Kelvin and Doug. I then got given a spare pair of work boots, safety glasses and a sledge hammer.

“All the internal walls need to come out. I’ll pair you with Doug. Just follow his instructions… and remember safety is always first.” Steve cautioned me before picking up a large wrecking bar.

We worked all day stopping only for lunch. By five o’clock the demo was finished. I was covered in sweat and dust, but it had been one of the best days I could remember.

Steve handed me a wad of ten dollar notes “Good job. Here you earned this..”

“Thanks, but you know I would have done this for nothing.” I grinned at him.

“A laborer is worthy of their hire.” He replied smiling then added, “Hey, don’t your school holidays start next week? If you want I can offer you work right though the break. We could certainly use the help to get this place finished on time.”

“Seriously? Ah, yeah that would be great.” My reply was enthusiastic and my smile broader.

“We’ll have to clear it with you foster parents first.”

“They won’t care, they’ll be happy I’m out of the house.”

“Run it by them anyway. Okay.”

I told Gina what I was going to do and as expected she didn’t give a shit. She did ask if I was getting paid and I lied and said it was coming off my community service time. If she knew money was involved I can guarantee she and Gerry would try to get some of it.

The following afternoon I took the cash Steve had given me and visited an acquaintance called Tommy. He worked at a sex toy distribution center and whenever I had any extra money I would meet him to get some wholesale priced supplies. I’d rung him that morning with my order and he had it waiting. My motto was if you had money then use it to make more money. Capitalism… isn’t it great!

Later that night I went over to my friend Jane’s house. Jane was nineteen and worked in the kitchen at a large prestigious girls boarding school. She ran a side business providing certain commodities to the girls at the school. Items that either they couldn’t get legally or didn’t want to buy themselves. Jane mainly supplied dope and although some of the teachers knew what she was doing they turned a blind eye due to the control she kept. I suppose it was a case of ‘better the devil you know than one you don’t.”