Grow Down

Chapter 5
Everyone Loves an Artist

---

Chapter Description: Sometimes, you need to make the best of a situation, even if it means humiliating yourself.

---

C4

It was noon when Robbert and Joseph finally arrived at the Bensalem ACME. Robbert took a few “shortcuts” that wasted time, but avoided all of the major highways.

That’s fine, though, Joseph though. Less people to recognize me.

“We’re here!” Robbert exclaimed happily. He really hoped that someone, anyone, would notice Joey here, but he doubted it. It was fairly nice of Robbert to drive all this way for Joey, considering how terrible Joey was to him.

“I’m teaching serious karma for this,” Robbert said softly.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing, nothing at all,”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

It was another hour and a half before Robbert got all of the shopping done. Although, for him, it was fairly enjoyable. Joey kept bringing up different foods, asking Robbert if he could buy them. Joey was clearly overwhelmed by the store.

Now that I think about it, Joey hardly ever left the house, Robbert though. What a sheltered life the poor boy lived.

Robbert’s assumptions were completely correct about Joseph. A childish urge flew into him as he viewed colored boxes and jars for the first time. Joseph wasn’t sure why normal people dreaded going to shop. It was like a Cave of Wonders, with treasures lurking behind every isle.

They didn’t need to wait long to be rung up. Two teenagers were at the register. One was working at the machine, while the other was waiting at the end of the register.

“What are you doing here,” Joey asked the worker. His bag read ’Alex’.

“Um, I bag,” the worker named Alex said, apparently stunned by the question. Seeing his look of disbelief, Robbert quickly responded.

“Where he’s from, the stores don’t hire baggers,” This seemed plausible to the worker.

“Well then, let me give him something,” the worker placed an obnoxiously bright, orange sticker on Joseph. Multiple emotions stirred up in Joseph, excitement from the bright colors, curiosity of the sticker, happiness from the warm smile that the workers, Alex and Rob, were giving him. Joey burst into a smile.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

After loading all of the groceries into Robbert’s car and bringing them back to Joey’s mansion, Helga got to work on cooking lunch. However, while waiting for their lunch Joey became increasing bored.

“I’m bored, Robbert,” Joey complained.

“You’re not acting very adult like,” Robbert chuckled.

“So,” Joey pouted, “I’m bored!”

“Alright, lets go check on Helga,” Robbert could never remember his master acting like this before. It was like Joey was experiencing youth for the first time. As a son in a rich family, Joey always had to be perfect, which included every boring thing known to man. If he had never been to a supermarket before, there was no telling what would excite Joey.

“Ooh,” Joey had never actual set foot into his own kitchen before, and he regretted it. The walls were decorated with colorful wallpaper, matching perfectly with all of the counters and appliances. A cr?me-colored tile spread across the floor; it was comically cold to Joey’s bare feet, and he danced along the tile happily.

Helga brought the food into the kitchen; a German meal for herself, Robbert’s traditional salad; and an array of children’s finger foods for Joey. Helga wasn’t exactly sure what Joey would eat, so she made everything a child would ask for at lunchtime. There were miniature hot dogs, rapped up in dough (Helga refused to use the English term, ’pigs in a blanket’), macaroni and cheese, and peanut butter and jelly. Joey ’oohed and ’ahh’ed as he and Robbert walked/hopped into the room. Joey raced over to one of the dinning room’s many chairs and climbed into it, staring at the food with hungry, puppy eyes. Just as Helga was about to tell everyone to eat, the doorbell rang.

“Hide me!” Joey yelled as he lept into Robbert’s arms. Helga scurried off to the front hallway to answer the door.

“Hello, how may I be helping you?”

“Hi, my name is Emilia Regnoff, I spoke with Mr. Barron yesterday and I wanted to see him again,”

“How did you find here?”

“Well, I went to his office building to see him, but they told me e he called out, so I just asked for his home address.”

“Will you be taking me for a sap? It is against company policy to be giving out numbers to the non-staff people. Please tell me the truth or I will be shutting this door into your very pretty little face,” Ms. Regnoff cringed at that.

“Ok, I looked him up in the phone book! Happy?” Helga heard a shuffling emitting from behind Ms. Regnoff. Helga saw a thin boy, roughly Joey’s new age, hiding behind her. Helga couldn’t control her delight.

“Who would this be?”

“Umm, Suh, . . . Syrus, ma’am,” the boy said shyly.

“Well, little man, you look like you need some fatting up! We’re be having lunch now, why don’t you and Ms. Peggycough come in and join us,” Ms. Regnoff’s face brightened.

“Oh, thank you,”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Oh Robbert! Joey! We be having guests for lunch!”

“Guests ?!” Robbert and Joey said together.

Oh, man, this could all fall apart right here! Robbert thought. If Joey’s life is ruined, I’m out of a job! And he has a lot more life to ruin now!

“Ok, listen,” Robbert said to Joey, adjusting Joey’s head so all of his eight years of attention was focused on Robbert, “You’re the newly adopted son of Joseph Barron, Joey Barron. You’re his successor, got it memorized?”

“What’s ’memorized’ mean?”

The sound of foot steps was clearly audible now. Shaking Joey back and forth, Robbert asked, “Do you know it?”

“Yes ! ! ! !” Joey said as he was shaken back and forth. Robbert stopped just as Helga, a woman, and a young boy walked into the dinning room. The boy was gazing around the room with puppy eyes, taking in every last detail.

“Um, oh! Welcome madame!” Robbert said, stumbling over his words and a bow.

“Wow! A real-live butler! Is your name Jenkins?” The little boy asked him. The woman scolded him softly, but Robbert was able to catch his name.

“Well Master Syrus, my name may not be Jenkins, but you may address me as Robbert,” Syrus giggled at Robbert’s butlerly voice. The woman, however, did not seem to be buying anything she saw.

“Where would Mr. Barron be?”

“I’m right he . . . .” Robbert covered Joey’s mouth.

“He’s, um, away for the day. Vacation you see. One of the many perks of owning a million-dollar business I dare say,”

“Right,” the woman said with shrewd eyes.

Both the boys dug into the meal before them, while the lady, whose name turned out to be Emilia Regnoff, ate a salad similar to Robbert’s. When the meal was over, there was no food left in the dinning room except for cheese and ketchup stains all over the table cloth.

“I must be off to clean these,” Helga said as she scoped up the table cloth. Why don’t you take Joey here to the park, Robbert.

“Sure, beats butlering,”

“Syrus and I will tag along too. I daresay he’s grown attached to Joseph,”

“Joey,” he corrected.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The park was also far from Joey’s house. Robbert followed Emilia’s instructions as she sat in the passenger’s seat. Syrus was busy explaining to Joey the rules of some card game that was popular with the kids.

“Turn in here,” Emilia said to Robbert. The park was beautiful. It has a full jungle gym, room to run, and a sand pit.

“Go and have some fun, Robbert and I will be right here waiting for you two when you tire out,” Emilia said with a warm smile.

“That’s not gonna happen!” Syrus said as he ran off to the jungle gym with Joey tagging behind. Emilia waited until both children were out of earshot to ask her question.

“Alright, whats the deal with the kid? Whose is he?” Thinking fast, Robbert replied.

“He’s, um, he’s . . . Mr. Barons! Yeah!”

“He’s not married. Just last week he was voted number one richest bachelor in the U.S.,”

Trying desperately to reboot, Robbert added, “Of course he’s not married! But he still needs someone to leave everything to if Mr. Barron should pass away! He adopted so he’s have an heir!”

“Funny, I though he left everything to collect dust, it was in the same magazine,”

“People change,”

“Emotionally or physically,”

Oh dear god, Robbert though, she knows.

“Um, both I guess,”

“He was in the accident, wasn’t he?”

“What accident?”

“Don’t play dumb with me! It was all over the news this morning! Mr. Barron was caught in it, wasn’t he?” her tone rose significantly.

“I don’t know what, you’re, um talking abo . . .”

“I’m no idiot!”

“I never said you were, and . . .,”

“Tell me!”

“Mr. Barron didn’t to discuss his condition with . . . “

“So he WAS there!” There were a horde of onlookers now, absorbing what had to be Philadelphia’s juiciest gossip in years.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“What d’ya think is going on over there?” Syrus asked as he pointed over to were Ms. Regnoff and the butler named Robbert were sitting. A crowd had gathered there.

“Who cares? Lets play some more!” Syrus did not object. Siting in the sandpit was the most exhilarating experience Joey could ever remember. It was warm, soft, and scratchy all at the same time. He loved how comfortable the sand was as it shifted between his fingers and toes (the boys abandoned there shoes when entering the pit), and how much fun it was to create with it.

“Wow! That looks awesome!” Syrus was pointing to the picture Joey drew into the sand. It was a perfect image of the Philadelphia skyscraper horizon, complete with windows. Syrus had never seen anything like it. He quickly called everyone over to see.

“Look Ms. Regnoff! Joey drew this!”

“Oh my word!”

“Look it at!”

“Its divine!” The entire crowd followed Robbert and Ms. Regnoff over to the sand pit. It truly was spectacular.

“This is gonna be a great story! Regressed Multi-billionaire discovers a hidden talent!”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

 

---