One Hand Will Wash the Other

Flash Fiction

Photo by Geetanjal Khanna on Unsplash

“Fifth home in three years?” Julius asks the teen sitting in his office. “That’s what my paperwork is telling me, little bro. Any truth to it?”

The teen’s eyes remain transfixed on the floor. “Yeah.”

“Ronnie, look up here, my man.” When he does, Julius continues. “There’s no shame in it. That’s first. We straight?”

Ronnie nods.

“Good. Second, I lived what you’re living. Been through the same hoods, same system—same story. I found a way through with a little help. Feel me?”

Ronnie leans in a hair. It’s noticeable.

“One hand’s gonna wash the other, okay? You help me and I help you. Here’s what we’re gonna do. You’re gonna stay off the streets. No messing around with the same old crowds, the obvious choices who you think might be your boys, your friends. They’re not. I want you to be a lone wolf for a while. Or team up with me, at least.”

Ronnie doesn’t reply. Julius thumbs through his file.

“And your transcript is telling me you’ve got brains. You’re smart. The problem is you don’t stick around anywhere long enough to earn credits, which is what you need.”

“Yeah,” Ronnie finally says.

“You’re a junior in high school. Eighteen years old. Going to turn nineteen in a few weeks. You’re on the clock—can’t afford to make any more mistakes. Look up here when I’m talking to you, little bro.”

Ronnie complies.

“This is your last stop, Ronnie. You ain’t going anywhere else. No more homes. No more high schools after this one. I’m gonna get you through. This team—we’re gonna get you through. Okay?”

“Okay,” Ronnie says quietly.

“You need to have conviction. You need to believe. I know this is your last stop. But you’ve gotta know it’s true, too. Say it with me, even if you’ve got to fake it for now: This is my last stop.”

“This is my last stop.”

Julius pulls out a small planner from his bottom-left drawer and hands it to Ronnie. “Your first day’s tomorrow,” he says. “You’ve got your bag and notebooks and all that, but this might be the most important piece. Your job tomorrow is to write down all your homework. Even if there’s none for a class, write down none. Think you can handle that?”

Ronnie nods.

“I’m going to meet up with you after school every night. We’ll get the work done, study—do what we need to do. If I’m not available, someone else will meet with you. We’ve got your back. But the bigger question is do you have ours? Do you have mine?”

“Yeah. I’ve got you.”

Julius stands up and extends his hand. Ronnie shakes it. “I believe you. That’s the conviction I’m talking about. Before you go, remember what I said: one hand will wash the other. We’ve got this. I’m telling you.”

Ronnie grips the planner and turns to leave the office. Julius watches him go.

Before he exits, Julius cups his hands around his mouth. “Awooooooo!”

Ronnie turns and looks at him, single brow raised. A slight smirk surfaces.

“You’re in my wolf pack now, brother!”

Ronnie cracks a smile and waves the planner at him in thanks.

Julius sits down and leans back in his chair. He can’t help but smile, too. He doesn’t know why, exactly, but in his heart, he knows Ronnie Stephenson’s going to make it through.

Thank you for reading “One Hand Will Wash the Other” — I hope you enjoyed it.

To all of my Fifties by the Fire friends: let’s write some fifty-word horror! This Friday, October 27, I’ll send out the thread at 3:00 PM EST. Please see below for the prompt. Initially, I had planned on narrowing it down to a more specific idea, but let’s leave the window wide open with this one.

Prompt: Write a fifty-word story (fiction, poem, or CNF) that falls under the horror genre. Write a slasher, a ghost story, a psychological spine-tingler. Write about a monster (real or imagined), an omen—a necromancer who wakes the dead. Take the prompt in any direction you like, as long as your response can be categorized as horror.

Happy writing! Can’t wait to see what you all come up with.

Have a wonderful week.