Roni and Joey: Interlude: Park

It was a surprisingly warm day in Sacramento, a light overcast of clouds hanging in the sky as a soft breeze blew in the air. Leaning up against the trunk of a tall tree, Miah relaxed with a content sigh, basking in the various rays of sunshine as they broke through the clouds. California always has had sporadic weather, but a day like this? A nice overcast, gentle flow of wind, warm but not too warm, the heat a welcome surprise for a California winter. Miah’s father always said that California’s environment was boom or bust, and when it’s booming, do whatever you can to take advantage of it. So obviously on a day like this she would go to the park, take advantage of the lack of rain, the warmer temperature, and the fact that it didn’t look like the opening to a Hitchcock film.

However, her favorite weather on a Saturday afternoon wasn’t the only reason she was out of the house, avoiding chores and homework for classes in which she was a top student. No, Miah had decided to come here for the tiny three and a half Little that sat cross legged on her belly, thoughtlessly pulling balls of lint the size of stones off the middle of her shirt. 

Dusty was prone to fiddling with his hand when he was in distress or spacing out. Of course, as his guardian, Miah knew that. As if she would ever be caught in school wearing an old t-shirt that was covered in lint balls. It would run her image as the sophomore queen. For Dusty, though, Miah would keep a few of these shirts laying around for days like this, where she wanted to relax in nature and give him something he can do to settle his mind while he sorted out his thoughts. After he had destroyed some of his habitat a few months prior, Miah figured that this, in whatever environment, was a better alternative for his antsy behavior.

Miah had laid back, her eyes mostly closed while she basked in the pleasant feeling of the outdoors, but never let her eyes drift away from Dusy. It was bizarre, she had been thinking. This underbread, her pet little, had a profound effect on her life in a way she hadn’t expected in the least bit. After all, her cousin Taylor said they’d be useful for shoe cleaning, nail painting, and just elevating her status in general. However, it was clear that both Tayor and the Hive were wrong about littles. They weren’t there to serve, to be obedient, or that they were even on a lower level intellectually. They’re just, well, littles. Some were former Largies as Dusty called them–people that knew what being full fledged humans was like–while others were just born this way, but just as capable as someone as Dusty.

That thought made her laugh internally. Someone. Not something. Not a Little, not an underbred. Someone.

A person. A victim of circumstance.

The idea of forcing him into submission made her stomach twist, a faint guilt lingering from opinions she’d once held without thinking. Dusty had eased that guilt over time, mostly without trying. He called what they had a “partnership,” half joking, half serious, and somehow that word stuck.

They talked. More than she’d expected. Enough that the sharp edges of her assumptions dulled, and enough that Dusty stopped sounding like someone trapped. Somewhere between those talks, Miah realized she’d been wrong about a lot more than she liked to admit.

The small shift in weight on her stomach brought Miah back to the present; her now-heightened guardian senses alerted her to Dusty’s change in position.  Looking down she could see him moving to another spot on her torso, settling again to throw more lint balls. 

Miah could only let out a small sigh, watching as he went back to chucking piece after piece in silent contemplation. She wanted Dusty to open up to her, to tell her what he was thinking about considering what happened earlier today, but Miah knew better. No, she would have to let him get whatever it is out of his system before trying, otherwise it’d be the cold shoulder. Why do boys–little or otherwise–have to be so difficult, thought Miah.

As she kept Dusty in the peripheral of her view, she thought back to the other day that Miah still knew bothered him. It had been a nice family get together–the first full one since his father passed away–and everything seemed to be going well. Miah had spent a few visits just teaching basic handling to both Dusty’s mom Felicity and his sister Evelyn so she could be less hands-on and allow Dusty to be with his mother and sister more closely. It didn’t take as much practice as she thought, rationalizing that caring for someone you’re close with is strong motivation.

The quartet had been spending the afternoon at the Archers, Mrs. Archer had made a nice light lunch, even going as far as to make something catered to Dusty’s needs after hours of research. Dusty and Eve had been hanging out in the family room while Felicity was trying to discern more about Miah as usual; her interests, what’s new in her life, how her family is, if she has plans for college–just trying to take an interest in the girl that is her son’s forever caretaker. 

The conversation was cut short, though, when the two of them could hear Eve’s voice starting to get more annoyed and frustrated. By the time Mrs. Archer and Miah turned their attention to the two of them, Eve had shot up out of her seat, her fists balled up in anger and her eyes watery, looming over Dusty.

“SHUT UP! YOU AREN’T DAD!” Eve exclaimed loudly, causing Dusty to cover his ears in pain as she stormed off.

Miah took a step forward, ready to snap at Eve for yelling and to defend her little, but a quick glance at Dusty stopped her short. Something had happened—something neither she nor Mrs. Archer had seen. Dusty looked hurt, not just from the noise but from the words, and Miah knew immediately that checking on him mattered more than lecturing his sister about volume or tearing into her for losing control.

Mrs. Archer went after Eve while Miah stayed with Dusty. He insisted he was fine, but she could tell whatever they’d been talking about had struck deeper than he was letting on. Not long after, Eve and Mrs. Archer returned, and after a moment’s hesitation, Miah allowed Eve to carefully lift Dusty and carry him out of the room so they could talk privately.

When they came back, both of them looked calmer, like whatever had flared between them had burned itself out. Things stayed civil after that, the rest of the visit passing without incident—but Miah could still tell something lingered. Dusty laughed when he was supposed to, answered when spoken to, yet his mind was clearly somewhere else.

That was what brought them to the park today. Miah needed Dusty to talk about what had happened. She knew from experience that bottling things up never ended well for him; she’d seen him work his frustration out on a soft hacky sack more than once when he didn’t have the words, or didn’t want to use them.

So for a moment, she watched, silently monitoring Dusty as he just kept plucking along, tossing those small balls of lint like skipping rocks just out of mindless satisfaction.

A few minutes would pass, though, and Miah would finally grow bored. Rolling her tongue in her mouth thoughtfully, she couldn’t help but smirk before pursing her lips and blowing in her littles direction, buffeting him like a sudden gust of warm wind.

Dusty, having succumbed to the sudden breeze and tumbled over onto his side, immediately jumped up, stamping his foot, glaring up at his guardian, who looked quite pleased with herself.

“Damn it, Miah! You know I hate when you do that!” yelled Dusty, more annoyed at the humidity of her breath than actually getting rolled over.

Miah just arched her eyebrow, tilting her head as she shrugs, her expression still smug at his antics.

“What? People yawn, littles yawn” she said, before laughing a little seeing Dusty blow a raspberry up her direction.

“Fine…fine” she concedes, ruffling his hair lightly with her finger, “I’m sorry, Dusty. I’m just bored now”

“Hmph, my ass…” Dusty said as her fingers wrapped securely around his body as she sat up a bit, depositing him on her thigh, “What’s your deal? You wanted to come here, Miah, and now you’re bored?”

“Yeah I mean, a little” Miah said with a grin, “Sorry little dude, I just wanted to clear my mind, ya know?”

Dusty raised an eyebrow at this, crossing his arms as he looked up at her.

“Clear your mind? What could you possibly have going on that I haven’t heard already? Please don’t tell me it’s about that-what’s his name? Ethan…Elton..you know, the one that stares, that freshman.”

“Ev-vin, Dusty,” enunciated Miah with a hint of annoyance at Dusty’s dismissal, “his name is Evan. And he doesn’t stare so much that he gets lost in how amazing I am. You should give it a shot, squirt” She said with a laugh.

Shaking her head, Miah just sighed. “No Dusty, just some stuff with the girls is all,” Miah started, “You know Bri? Yeah well she and her sister had a little spat. It’s nothing serious, but they made it serious…”

Miah went on for a few minutes, explaining the fictitious situation and what lead up to the argument between Brianna and her sister, using every ounce of her self-control to not burst out laughing as Dusty’s eyes glazed over, a telltale sign of how disinterested the small 19 year old is in girl talk, until finally, Miah got to the end of her story. 

“It was like over such a small thing but they were like ‘No I want to do it this way’ back and forth with each other. Eventually they just blew up at each other and have been giving each other the silent treatment. I’m like ‘bruh, you’re both over reacting’ but Bri doesn’t see it that way. I’m just at my wits end”

Miah eye’s Dusty curiously, studying his reaction, “I could use advice from someone with a sibling. Like, how did you and your sister get over that little spat the other day”

Dusty immediately tensed up, looking at her in annoyance. Yep, thought Miah, that got him.

“That—that was different Miah. Eve and I got over it pretty quick. It was just an argument about her grades was all.” Dusty said evenly, his posture rigid as he thought back to when she stormed off.

Miah, however, didn’t seem too convinced.

“Grades? Come on, Dusty. You’ve been in a weird funk ever since then. You expect me to beleiveit’s about grades?”

“I—no, that’s not what’s been on my mind,” Dusty said, his shoulders slumping a little, “I mean, yeah Eve and I might fight, but we always have each other’s back. She apologized profusely that day, too. I practically had to bite her to stop her from trying to make sure my ears were okay from her yelling.”

Miah blinked, then cocked an eyebrow, “Then what’s going on, little dude?”

Biting his lip, Dusty looked off to the distance at the trees, watching them sway lightly in the breeze.
“She…said I’m not dad.” Dusty said almost too quietly for Miah to hear, “I don’t know…it just hurt more than it should have I guess, or, well, maybe it hurt enough. Fuck, I don’t know!” he said, stomping his foot on her body, knowing that she wouldn’t feel it.

Miah’s expression softened sympathetically, and as much as she wanted to comfort him, she knew all too well that the little pet would probably be a detriment to his expression. 

“Dusty,” she said quietly, “Please, talk to me. It’s not good to hold this sort of thing in, even if it hurts to say it out loud.”

She lowered her hand, palm up, allowing him to choose to go to her rather than plucking him off her stomach. It was an invitation as much as a silent plea and, to her relief, one that Dusty opted to take as he step on, sitting cross legged as she lifted him up closer.

“It still hurts, Miah,” dusty started, his voice soft and vulnerable, “I didn’t just lose my dad. It might have been simpler if it was just that–I lost my best friend, my hero. My dad has always been who I wanted to be when I grew up, and I still do. Eve telling me I’m not him,” Dusty paused, wiping his eyes, “It made me wonder if I ever will be like him, or if I am at all. I mean yeah I have his sense of humor and love of comedies and baseball, but I just–I just want to measure up, and I’m afraid that I never will”

Miah nodded along, taking in everything Dusty was saying, and took a breath before she decided on the best thing to say.

“Dusty, I can’t begin to imagine what you’re going through,” she started, her voice soft, both comforting and honest, “you had to be so strong for him when he was sick, you worried about him so much from what you told me, did your best to make sure he didn’t have to worry about you. You even voluntarily let yourself go into the system just to make sure there wasn’t added stress. You loved him, Dusty, through and through. Of course this is hard, and it’s valid that you acknowledge that this loss is hitting your hard”

Taking a moment, Miah made sure she had Dusty’s full attention before continuing.

“That being said, you know your dad wouldn’t want you to be like him. He’d want you to be Dusty. He’d love you no matter what form that took. He’d understand you’re hurting, and that you miss him, but striving to be him? That’s probably not what mattered to him. What did, though, was you being your authentic self. And trust me, in the time I’ve known you, you’ve always been Dusty to me. I’ve never thought you were trying to be someone else. I’m proud of you, and I know he would be proud of you too. My opinion? You should keep grieving, keep talking about this stuff, but keep being yourself, be all of the things your dad loved about you. Because frankly? That will be the best way you can honor his memory.”

Dusty sat there silently in the palm of Miah’s hand, feeling the warmth of her body radiating into his body, processing what all she had said. He’d want me to be me, thought Dusty as he looked up at Miah. Deep down, he knew she’s right. Dad was proud of him, he said so multiple times. He was always there for him, supporting him in every way. Sure they both had shared interests, the kind that only a son would get from a father he loved dearly, but that never meant he needed to be like him. In a lot of ways he was, but in other ways he wasn’t. Regardless, though, Dusty knew his dad loved him unconditionally, and always would. Dusty knew that all he needed to do now is carry his fathers love with him, and he would always be there because of it.

“Miah,” he said softly, his voice quivering a bit with emotion, “You’re—you’re a good friend. Not a guardian, but a real friend. Thank you.”

Miah smiled warmly hearing this. For a moment, she just looked at him, her expression open, like he’d named something she hadn’t known how to ask for, but was grateful to hear out loud. Especially from someone who had every right to resent people that now had full say over his life.

“You’re welcome, Dusty,” Miah said softly, lifting the little just high enough to where she could gently kiss the top of his head, “If I’m being honest, you’re a good friend too, and I’m glad to have you in my life.”

Miah pulled out her phone and checked the time, sighing with realization at how long they had spent at the park.

“We should probably get going,” she murmured, “Mom’s probably going to have cow if I don’t clean my room, and you need to help with sorting my makeup brushes so I can see what ones need to get tossed.”

Looking up at her, Dusty cleared his throat. “Do uh–do you think we could stay a little bit longer? Please?”

A soft smile formed on Miah’s face as she nodded, “Yeah buddy, a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt”

With that, the two sat back in peace, soaking in the calm that seemed to have washed over them both as they basked in the broken sunshine, both feeling an optimism that hadn’t been there earlier.

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