More Mama Stan
Stan is a genuinely kind guy, he likes people. Kids especially. Even though he tries to put out the “ew. Children.” Aura, he’ll be minding his own business, just trying to shoplift, and he’ll feel a tug on his jacket and look down to see a teary eyed kid still holding onto his jacket.
He finds this to be a common occurrence. Every now and then a kid will be lost and cling onto him and he’ll help them find their parent and watch said parent tug their kid away while chastising them and giving Stan a dirty look.
He doesn’t mind. He’s homeless, he’s used to people looking at him like that.
Well, when he gets into gang work, he REFUSES and I mean ABSOLUTELY REFUSES to do anywhere near children with his work, whether that’s slinging drugs, shooting, etc. He finds out some 17 year old wants to buy coke from him? Nah, he gives em a talk to straighten them out. Some guy owes the gang money and he and some of the guys gotta go fuck him up? Oh, there’s a child? Stan takes the kids hand, walks them out of the room and keeps them entertained while the rest of them fuck up the dad.
Some of the members younger than Stan affectionately call him Ma.
Ma becomes a name Stan starts going with. Anyone even slightly younger than him, he takes under his wing.
He takes care of them, keeps them safe and out of danger. Soon he has his “stanlings” that’s what they call themselves. He hates it, cause he’s not a fan of it becoming a big thing.
Well, gang leader doesn’t like all the younger folk getting big ideas. He’s getting an inkling that Stan is planning to usurp him.
What’s a guy to do?
Throw him in the trunk.
Stanley, once he frees himself from the trunk feels like shit. It ain’t just the physical part of it. His kids are gone.
He can’t go back, he can’t save them. He’d grown really attached to those kids. He missed hanging out with them, he missed the way their eyes would light up when he would help them with something or when he would take over a job for them.
He just hopes he influenced them enough to stop rolling the streets.
He goes on his way quietly, missing his kids.
He misses being called Ma.
Many years later a kid appears on his front porch and he offers him a job.
He watched the kid grow up and he feels like he’s at least done something worth while every time the kid calls him Ma.
