Aouw! I love Palmtree and Tire'biter's bit... Keep it up!!!
Here's a continuation of my version: "Even the scary stuff was more - interesting, if he thought about it - than the banal details of his ordinary life. He walked over to his homework desk, and prepared his English assignment without much enthusiasm...."
The days rolled by in gray sameness. It was a bleak November, then frozen December, and on into the new year. Brad still kept up the "flashlight" search - under the bed, in the closet - but it just wasn't the same without his parents... Occasionally his mother would perk up long enough to climb the stairs to his little room, tucked under the eaves, but she'd dissolve in tears while on her knees to 'look under his bed'...
His father rarely showed up. Once in a while Mr. Jenkins would take Brad out with him, but his father and the new blond were always making 'kissy' noises at each other while Brad was in the car, and it made Brad sick. He hated the way the blond chirped at him in her fake "Aren't you such a nice little boy!" voice, he hated her fake nails, her fake blond hair, her fake eyelashes and the way she batted them at his father - and the way his father fell all over himself doing whatever the blond wanted.
When he'd return from these visits, his mother would give him a long, silent look of pain, but she'd never ask him how his visit was, nor would she ever - especially she would never - ask how his father was doing.
The next summer, however, things did begin to change. At first, the changes seemed to be really, really bad... His father began to be late with the alimony payments. Sometimes he'd only send part of the payment, and sometimes he'd skip a month or two altogether. Brad could hear his mother arguing with his father in the kitchen, while the blond sat, pouting, in the car outside. Brad would watch her from his bedroom window. She looked fatter, with a round belly sticking out in front, and Brad couldn't understand what his father saw in that bloated, beach-ball-belly, bleached witch. His mother was - in Brad's opinion - much prettier, certainly much thinner than her; why couldn't his father see how much he'd hurt his mother and what a good woman she was?
Eventually his mother was forced to go out looking for work. She found employment at the local grocers, and Brad found that they were actually eating better than they had when the alimony payments had arrived regularly. He asked his mother about it; she blushed and mumbled something about "people feel sorry for us"...
Brad went to school with the grocer's son; a fat, selfish little boy named Arnie. When Brad got up the courage to ask Arnie about it, Arnie blurted out loudly, "My dad feels sorry for your mom 'cause your dad got some floozy pregnant, so he gives her all the food that's about to expire!" Brad pushed Arnie down, and Arnie began to cry. Brad skulked back home after school that day, worried that he might have gotten his mom into trouble with her boss. Imagine Brad's surprise when he found Arnie sitting on his back porch, waiting for him with a package of cookies!
"What're you doing here?" Brad asked, with sullen suspicion. Arnie seemed surly, and still afraid of him, but he wordlessly handed Brad the package of cookies.
"What's this for?" Brad asked, feeling even more uneasy with the situation.
"My mom said I should give you this..." Arnie said, and sniffled.
"Why? 'Cause she feels sorry for my mom??" Brad snapped, and balled his fist, taking a fighter's stance.
Arnie winced and whined a little, but stayed where he was. Brad had to admit, Arnie had some potential. He could'a run away, but he faced Brad even though his lower lip was trembling. "My parents like your mom. They say she's a good worker, and I have to be nice to you!"
Brad paused in surprise. This wasn't what he'd expected. After thinking it over for a few minutes, Brad asked, "Did you tell them I shoved you?"
Arnie's face blazed with righteous indignation. "I'm no snitch!" he fumed.
Brad looked Arnie over again, and made his decision. "Come on up to my room. I've got some really neat "Sergeant Rock" comics you can look at - IF you're really careful with them..."
Arnie's eyes got wide, and he said, "I'll be careful! Honest I will! My mom never lets me look at "Sergeant Rock", she says they give me nightmares!"
Brad and Arnie were looking at the comic books when Arnie noticed the flashlight. "Wow, that's a neat flashlight! Where'd you get it?" Arnie exclaimed.
Brad gave him a funny look, then said, "My dad gave it to me... It's like a "Sergeant Rock" flashlight!"
Arnie looked doubtful. "No, it isn't... I've seen Army flashlights; they're all 'camouflage'-colored and stuff..."
Brad glared at Arnie. "You callin' me a liar?"
Arnie flushed. "No, no - maybe your dad made a mistake?"
Brad remained stiff, then relaxed. "Yeah, sure, Arnie. I think that's actually a 'utility' flashlight. You know, like the ones the gas repairmen and the electricians use."
Arnie's eyes got wide. "Maybe that's the kind of flashlight they use in the sewers!! When they're looking for alligators!"
Brad decided to be kindly patronizing. "Yeah, Arnie... That must be it."
Arnie asked, "So, you ever see an alligator?"
Brad snuffed in a worldly-wise manner. "That's all "Urban legend" stuff, Arnie..."
Arnie got defensive. "No it isn't!! I've got a cousin who said he was looking down a sewer grate one time - lost a quarter down it, and while he was trying to get it back he saw a big, scaley back with spines go slithering by underneath!"
Brad looked at him tolerantly, then asked, "And did he get his quarter back?"
Arnie banged his heels on the floor. "You're making fun of me! My cousin told me, cross his heart and hope to die!"
Brad grimaced. He was beginning to be fond of Arnie, but sometimes Arnie could be an awful dweeb... Then Brad noticed that it was getting dark outside. "Better get home soon," he warned Arnie. "It's getting dark outside, and the alligators come out at night to GRAB ya!" He jabbed at Arnie's ribs, and Arnie squealed, almost like a girl.
"Dammit, Brad! Don't scare me like that!" Arnie picked up the flashlight, and turned it on. "I'll just borrow your big ol' flashlight here. That'll get me home safely!" Arnie swept the room with the flashlight's beam. "WooOOOO! There's a ghost! There's a zombie! There's a..." His voice trailed off in mid-sentence.
Brad looked up in irritation. He'd been trying to read the latest "Spiderman" comic by the last fading light of dusk, but something about the tone of Arnie's voice had distracted him. With little patience, he asked, "What? What are you doing, Arnie?"
Arnie was pointing the beam of the flashlight at Brad's old trunk - the one that Brad now had to dust, since his mom was working so many hours. Arnie seemed transfixed by what he saw.
Brad moved over behind Arnie and followed the beam of light. Some trick of light had brought the old trunk back to life; the same way it had come to 'life' the first time Brad had tried out his new flashlight. The trunk seemed alive, seemed to have two enormous, dark eyes looking at them, just above a set of heavy, armadillo-like feet...
"It's like an Ankylosaurus..." he whispered.
"A - WHAT?" asked Brad.
"AN - ky - lo - saurus", Arnie whispered reverentially. "Actually, it's like a BABY Ankylosaurus, since they could grow to be 30 feet long, and heavily armored..." he breathed.
Brad shuddered, and switched off the flashlight in Arnie's hand. Arnie wailed. "What did you do that for????"
"It's just a stupid old trunk", Brad retorted, and flicked on the overhead light. "See?"