Autumn's splendor was long over in Boston, Massachusetts. Instead of October's red and gold leaves the naked branches of an old oak bristled in the November breeze. A shaft of pale light drifted down into the bedroom of seven year old Matthew Bonnefoy-Kirkland. The weak sunshine highlighted the fair hair of the two blond boys who were playing on a braided rug. The blue bedroom vibrated with their chatter and laughter. A small hand pushed a green car across the wooden flooring next to the rug.

"You know Mattie," a grinning blue eyed child said to the humming boy across from him, "you could come over to my house if you want. No one's ever there so we could do anything we wanted too!"

Alfred had quickly befriended the quieter child after he was transferred to the first grade class a few weeks ago. Matthew's humming stopped and he stared at Alfred. The sunny boy smiled widely. It'd be nice to have someone else at home with him. Maybe Mattie's Daddy and Papa would want to come too.

"Umm," the boy hesitated, pushing a car along the outer ring, "That sounds like it could be fun. Maybe next time?" Matthew replied.

"Yeah!" Alfred cheered. He could just imagine it now! He and Mattie would play all evening then, Mattie's Papa would make a yummy dinner and his Daddy would read them stories after! It'd be awesome!

The two boys went back to playing. Their imaginary game was vague but Alfred knew their cars were friends and his car could speak Spanish. Mattie's couldn't do that. He always got funny when Alfred spoke in Spanish to him.

Alfred grinned before chirping to Matthew, "apple circus, apple circus!" Then he started making different sounds.

"Tu mama es una puta! Y tú es gordito."

"That's no fair Al, you know I can't speak Spanish." Matthew complained.

"Su cabeza es un burro," Alfred drawled.

Alfred pushed his car across the floor laughing. His hands made squeaks across the hard wood. The two were so busy playing they missed the door opening and the tall blond who stood smiling at them.

"Boys, it's time for dinner," Mattie's Daddy said.

Matthew winced and slowly got up from the floor.

"Yay!" Alfred cheered as he ran to the door. He loved warm meals! Lucky Charms were only yummy the first three nights. Then it got boring.

"Come on, Mattie it's chow time!" Alfred called over his shoulder. He really didn't know why his friend got so slow around dinner time. Usually he could almost beat Alfred in racing. Alfred slid down the wooden hallway in his socks.

"Alfred, no running by the stairs!" A voice called from behind him.

"Yes Sir!" Alfred chirped. Alfred skipped downstairs.

He was just about to head into the dining room when a heavy hand came down on his shoulder. He didn't jumped at all.

"Alfred," Mattie's Daddy said, "how many times have I told you, you can call me Arthur?"

Alfred wrinkled his brow. He used his fingers to help him count. Once the first time he came over. Twice the third time. Twice the last time and once now.

"Six times Sir!" Alfred smiled up at him. Mattie's Daddy always said he was a good boy when he got things right.

Arthur sighed and as Alfred expected said, "You're a good boy Alfred Jones."

The little boy grinned at Mattie's Daddy.

Alfred slid into his chair at the dinner table. It was his chair because Mattie's Papa had said so after the third time Mattie had invited him over for dinner. He wiggled his butt in it. All his.

Matthew climbed into the chair next to him. Alfred looked to the doorway to the kitchen to see what dinner was going to be tonight. It always smelled good in the house, like spices and tea. That was one more thing Alfred liked about Mattie's place. Alfred's house smelled like lemon disinfectant and dust.

Mattie's Daddy walked in with a steaming plate of chicken. Alfred's tummy grumbled and he patted it. It was gonna be happy tonight.

"Daddy, when is Papa coming home?" Matthew asked. He looked more pale than normal to Alfred.

Arthur set the plate down, "In two sleeps love."

Matthew nodded and grabbed a bottle of ketchup from the middle of the table and squirted a big puddle of it on his plate.

Arthur served a leg to Mattie and Alfred each along with some kind of mushy green thing. Alfred wasn't very good at telling which vegetable was which cause he only ate them here.

"This looks great!" Alfred said and dug in.

"Yeah," Mattie mumbled, "great."

Snow was falling outside. It was early this year and Mattie hoped that meant they would have lots of snow days before Christmas. Daddy was in the shower and Papa was reading the newspaper. Alfred said he would come over if it snowed this weekend and Matthew really wanted to figure this out before his friend came back.

He took a deep breath, "Papa do you know what gordito means?"

Papa didn't even look up, "Ah non, mon petit."

Matthew stared at him. How could his Papa not know? He probably just didn't hear him.

"What about burro?"

"Non," Francis replied finally looking up from his newspaper. Matthew bit his lip before uttering the next one. It had kinda sounded like a bad word he knew in French.

"What about puta?"

"Matthew!" Francis snapped the newspaper down. Mattie clutched his bear tighter but plowed on anyway.

"So you do?" Mattie asked, "What does it mean?"

"Where did you hear that word?" His Papa replied.

"Papa," Mattie said, "you told me it isn't nice to answer a question with a question."

Francis took a deep breath, "Matthew what you said is a very bad word. It's what mean, rude people call ladies."

Matthew gasped. Then why had Alfred said it so many times? He wasn't rude or mean!

"Can you tell me where you heard that word?"

Mattie chewed his lip. He didn't want to get his friend in trouble. Maybe he didn't know what it really meant.

"Umm..." Matthew hesitated.

"Don't lie to me," Francis warned.

"Alfred says it when we play all the time. He says he can speak Spanish and I just wanted to understand what he was saying!"

Papa was quiet for several moments. Mattie stood really still so he could think.

"Next time you hear him say it," Papa began, "you should tell him that you don't think it's a nice word to use. And you can ask him not to use it. Ok?"

"But what if he says no?" the little boy wondered.

"Then you come get me and we'll talk to him together."

"Ok Papa."

"And why don't you speak with Alfred in French baby?" Francis said, "No one says you have to speak Spanish."

"That's a good idea! Then I can teach him new words!" Matthew exclaimed.

Francis smiled, "that's my boy."

The bar was dark and smoky. It was crowded. Francis sighed. Fridays. He was lounging at a high top drinking with Antonio when a thought came to him.

"I need to ask you about Spanish curses, my friend." Francis said.

Antonio blinked. Francis had never taken an interest in his language before.

"Of course," he said, "but why?"

"I think my son is learning them from a friend and I want to be sure they're curses and not just gibberish before I say anything about it."

"Well tell me what he said and I'll tell you if it's a real word or not."

Francis repeated the words and Antonio cocked his head.

"You said your son is seven now right?" Antonio asked, "So his friend is the same age, yes?"

Francis thought for a second, "We kept Matthew back a year so… I suppose he's six or just turned seven, oui."

Antonio whistled, "Well that little one sure knows his stuff. The first one isn't so bad. It means little fatty. The second one means asshole. Neither are names that I'd want around my first grader though."

Francis sighed and took a gulp of his wine before admitting, "I'm worried. Matthew says he uses these types words all the time when they play. And that there are more that he doesn't remember."

Both men were silent. The noise from the bar rolled around them. Francis watched Arthur down beers. It looked like he was in a drinking competition with Gilbert and Roderich.

Antonio finished his beer before saying, "I wonder what his home life is like for him to use them so causally."

"Not good." Francis muttered, "Not good."

AN: This is a fill for LJ. If you are interested in what the request asks for PM me and I'll send you the link.

Spanish translation:

Tú mama es una puta.- Your mother is a whore.

Y tú es un gorrdito- And you are a little fatty.

Su cabeza es un burro- Your head is an ass.

Published: October 23, 2012

Edited: July 13, 2015- Added an more locality, a introductory paragraph and a few odd sentences to improve the flow. Oh and grammar. Of course.