Keen awoke from a deep slumber. Are we at Papa Joans he thought. He slept on a king sized bed, with sheets white as snow and cushions which sank the sleepless to dreamland. The four-poster bed's pillars spiraled, rotating. Lifting the bed's ceiling against the rooms. A artificial natural-like light brightened the room. Keen looked around at the windowless walls, he was alone, Traine wasn't around. I'm alone again he thought.

He stood up, clothed in his nights before, red t-shirt with black short sleeves and dark blue jeans. His shoes neatly put beside the wooden night table which had his socks folded on it. He wondered where his dad was, another of his jobs or... and where is uncle Mick?

Keen opened the door and saw Mickey on a chair sleeping in the hallway, facing the round stairs. He sneaked and approached him, the laminated flooring made no noise, only the soft squeaking of his sneakers now and then could reveal his intentions. He was close, a stretch of his arm close. Keen could see his mouth moving, mumbling silently. Enjoying dreamland Uncle Mick? He whispered.

He turned around grasping the white wooden handrail, and he took his first step.

"Attaboy! Sneaking around already, you're not even in puberty yet." Mickey caught him.

"Let me go!" Keen yanked at his hardest, trying to escape Mickey's monstrous grip. "Let me go! Let me go! Let me go!" he yelled, bawling his eyes out.

Mickey took hold of both arms and pulled him closer, locking him from escaping. "Shush! You cry baby! Almost twelve years old." Shook his head in disapproval, "and still acting like a brat."

"But... But...But I want to find mom..." Keen said softly. "Dad is not even trying to search for her."

"Listen here kid" Mickey's tone changed "your father works very hard for your mom, more than you realize, so shut up and listen. We are gonna eat some breakfast and you, Keen, are going to think about your stupid plan. Running away? Finding your mom? How? What money? You're just a kid, don't expect the world to change to your needs. Leave the difficult things to us grown ups."

"Uncle Mick..." Keen thought about what Mickey said. The search and rescue plan was just a wishful dream. He did not even know where to begin, America? Mom could be anywhere he thought. "Alright, but I want to help, doesn't matter what." His face sparkled with hope and his voice answered with determination.

Mickey gave Keen a good look from head to toe, "at least you got spirit." And let his grip go on his small arms. He stood up towering over Keen, "I'm hungry'' and passed him. "I saw a fast food chain I haven't been around in for a while and I remember the savory smell of that burger, It may taste like shit or it could've been a drunk craving, anyhow, I need to check it out, if that memory is worth holding on to."

"A burger in the morning?"

"Princess you mean late-morning. Now stop bickering a man gotta eat, and you're a tiny man now right."

Keen smiled at no one particular, tiny man. He followed Mickey down the stairs, apparently they slept at a bed and breakfast. However, how unusual it was, they never stayed any longer than a day. Jumping from one place to another and leaving most things, toys and clothes behind. This was the life he remembered.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

Across the B&B, in the busy morning, an old lady with her dog walked among the crowd. It barked at the passerby as if it were its nemesis. The dog halted, and stared at Keen and Mickey street crossing. It showed its fangs, barring those sharp K-9 teeth, growling in madness.

Keen clasped his hand tight shut and tightened his steps, such viciousness from a dog he saw rarely. Mickey didn't slow, his eyes never met the beast. As Mickey closed in, a low, "shut" Keen heard amidst the chatter. It squealed high-pitched with tail down, and hid behind its owner fixated on uncle Mick.

"Just an untrained beast" he stated.

After a minute's walk they reached Maccadees conveniently built at the corner of an intersection. Along the way, numerous boards pointed to Maccadees direction showing a red nosed clown, and dark blue hair. Its face had a ghost like appearance, ashen white he thought. He had no fear for clowns, yet this sinister look made him question going in.

"What can I order for you?" a young girl with a cutesy look behind the counter asked.

"Two number 9, a number 9 large, a number 17 and a number 45, zero coke," Mickey dazed for a blink of a moment and turned to Keen, "oh and a kids menu."

"Kids menu?" I'm a man too" Keen blushed.

"Acting tough in front of a pretty lady huh." Mickey smirked. "Kids these days grow fast. Alright! Another number 9 large with a 45."

The girl glanced at Keen blushing, "should I scrap the kids menu"

"Nah that's mine" Mickey laughed, and whispered to Keen "aye it's been a long time and look transforming robots" and pointed towards the menu showing it.

Keen frowned, transforming robots... what is this old man saying? Those are Cyberformers. Those Cyberformers kinda look cool though, he thought, regretting acting though a bit.

"That will be 80 dollars."

Mickey's hand swiftly went into his jeans, holding a tight bundle of cash. The stacked bills counted to at least a grand, Mickey flashed it around and arrogantly started counting till eighty in the slowest manner.

He handed the four bills, of twenty, to the bored cashier. "Take a seat, your order is soon ready."

Keen led the way, towards the far corner next to the kitchen, facing the entrance. He sat on the chair whilst Mickey took the soft couch. "When is it my turn for the watch?"

Mickey typed on an older phone, the clicking of the number pads reminded him of a snare roll. "Uhm... what are you blabbing about."

"Forget it," Keen slumped down in the chair.

"Your dad will be later than usual." Mickey said and read out loud the literal message, "he said, busy-on-job-come-back-late. Doesn't matter that much right? You're a tiny man now, you can learn the ropes and with training, time goes by in a flash. We will see him soon enough"

From the corner of his eyes a new shape appeared, "here is your order," the cutesy girl from before brought an overloaded tray. "The other is coming up," she said, carefully placing it between them.

Keen raised his eyebrows, "eating all of that with another coming up? Alone?"

"Like I said. A man gotta eat." Mickey's claws shredded the cartons savagely open, and piled the fries on one big heap. "And we got money to throw away. Want more? We buy more. It's that simple"

"Mom said wasting food is a sign of bad character."

"Supply and demand" Mickey shuffled a mouthful, "s...ply a.. D...mand" after a few chews he gulped the french-fries in one go. And continued," the difference here kid. Most of this will be thrown away anyway at the end of the day."

The shape in the corner of his eye appeared again, with another tray. The girl came by and said, "enjoy your meal" and smiled at both of them.

"Ah yes!" Mickey excitedly grabbed the kids menu "I hope I got the jet one, Sunscream was it not?" and ripped it apart.

There was nothing left of the kids' surprise box, Keen unmistakably saw two human-like shapes. His mind brightened and he couldn't contain a smile "the tank one is mine!" And went for it like a lightning strike.

"Seems like you can't hold a poker face, cause I didn't ask for two," Mickey taunted him. "Eat, eat so that frail body of yours swells, we got fried chicken, burgers, chicken burgers and fries"

Keen's hunger grew seeing the pile of food, especially the fried chicken, got his attention. The aroma pulled him closer, the heat of the searing oil crisping up the battered skin made his dry mouth an oasis. But that burger also looks so good, even the chicken one, a man gotta eat, even a tiny one.