Rescuing Leonid: Rebellion

Find the second part of the story here

Part III: Rebellion

I was waiting before the arrow-like logo of the supermarket. I expected Leonid to arrive on his new mountain bike. It never came. Instead a flashy red scooter from the 1980’s drove towards me.

‘Your mother knows you took her scooter?’ I asked.

The night before we had been binge-watching Star Trek episodes, his mother had come into the room and turned off the television. A long monologue about how he was only allowed to drive the scooter in the dead-end street in which they lived followed. Leonid nodded, and apologised five times.

‘It’s not fair, is it? I’m sixteen, I can buy cigarettes, but I cannot drive that rusty, old scooter.’ We went into the supermarket, quickening our pace when we walked past the open refrigerators were butter and yoghurt were stocked.

‘Someone didn’t sleep,’ he said when I yawned for the fifth time.

‘My father still has dates with a different woman every night, while I help my autistic brother pulling his mattress into my room, because he’s scared.’

‘That judge was wrong. A mother’s love is more important than a father’s income,’ I agreed with him.

I got the coloured paper and tape which I needed to glue together my history project on Ancient Greece, while Leonid filled his shopping basket with pens, a protractor, a divider, and a calculator.

‘You ask him,’ he said.

‘No, you ask him.’

Neither of us asked. The customer whose long greasy brown hair reached his shoulders, and was dressed in a dirty overall with a level sticking out of his pockets didn’t need to be asked. He smiled as he handed Leonid the squared notebooks that he needed from the highest shelf.

‘There’s still one thing on the list,’ Leonid said while he handed me the crumbled piece of paper. In his small messy handwriting he had written in capital letters on the top of the page Star Wars: Revenge of the Sith.

‘Seriously, Leonid?’ We saw that film seven times in the cinema.’

‘Awful film, wasn’t it? Bad acting, annoying characters, unconvincing plot twists, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to buy it.’

I rolled my eyes. We queued for about half an hour, Leonid scratched his neck, while he cursed his mother for buying that itchy pullover. He handed the cashier twenty Euros and turned his wallet upside down to look for another twenty.

Thank you so much for reading. This is a story that has four parts, each parts tells about a different phase in Leonid’s life. You can find the second part here. The last part will be posted next Thursday.

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