by Paige Dearth
Ragtop rocked back and forth for a moment. Her repulsion made her nauseous, and she took a moment to collect herself, then pulled Joon into her. “I’m sorry that happened to you. You did the right thing by running away, ’cause Deen would’ve done exactly that to ya. Anyway, the pimp will tell you that they’ll give you a nice place to live and buy your food and make sure that the men you have sex with don’t hurt you. But it’s all bullshit. You’ll end up in a place worse than being on the streets and the pimps will beat you and use you and make you feel like you’re nothing. Having sex with someone should be special—you know, when you love somebody. You’re too young for sex now, but when you’re older, you’ll want to experience it with someone great.”
“I don’t know about that,” Joon said, her eyes on the ground. Ragtop’s lesson was scaring her…and making her feel a little embarrassed. “I miss my mommy and daddy.”
“I know you do, baby. What happened to them? How did they die?”
Joon tilted her head to meet Ragtop’s eyes. “Aron told me my mom and dad died because they were poor white trash who did stupid stuff. She said my mom probably caught a disease from being a slut and gave it to my dad. And she told me that I would end up just like my mom ’cause I’m a slut too.”
“Oh for fuck’s sake! That woman is unbelievable. I hope someday I meet her, just so I can teach her a lesson. Didn’t anyone from the state ever check on you after they left you there?”
“Yeah, they did,” Joon said sadly. “Before the lady would come, Aron would let me get cleaned up and she even let me eat a little. When the lady came to talk, Aron made me tell her I loved living there and that I never wanted to leave.”
“Did you ever think about ratting the bitch out?”
Joon scrunched her eyebrows and tilted her head.
“Tattling. You know, telling the state woman what was happening to you in that house.”
“No way. Aron said they would never believe me, and if I ever told, she would find out and boil my hands in hot oil on the stove.” Joon spread her hands open and looked down at them then she turned back to the older woman. “She would have too.”
Ragtop shook the images from her mind. “Back to your parents, Joon. You know that Aron was lying to you about how they died. Maybe one day you’ll figure out what really happened.”
Joon leaned her head on Ragtop’s chest—the child was starved for love and human contact. “All I know is I remember my mom took me to school one day and she never came back. I remember my third grade teacher crying when she told me that my mom and dad weren’t coming home that night and that someone was coming to pick me up. I was so scared that I didn’t talk to anybody. All I did was cry because I wanted my parents. Next thing I knew, I was living with Aron.”
“I’m sorry, Joon. It sounds awful. At least I know my mother was crazy and threw my ass out for no good reason. I was old enough to understand some of it. But you were so young…makes my heart feel heavy to think about you being out there without your mama to love ya.”
“Yeah, but maybe you’ll love me,” Joon said, desperately wanting to be loved by the woman.
“What? I love ya already, sugar.”
Joon beamed.
“Come on, now. Let’s go teach you how to beg.”
Chapter Thirteen
If there were such a thing as the perfect beggar, it would have been Joon. She was a likeable child, shy and distant, with a sadness that tore at the hearts of men and women. Joon held a small sign that read: I’m Hungry. Ragtop had insisted that Joon write it herself, so people would know it was done by a child’s hand.
Joon would sit on the sidewalk on South Broad Street with her cardboard sign, with its large, black wording, and a rusty coffee can. She had been begging for a few weeks in the same spot when a woman approached her.
“How are you today, honey?”
Joon looked up at the stout, cheerful woman with long, brown hair staring down on her. “I’m fine,” she mumbled.
“Would you like me to buy you a sandwich from the deli across the street?”
“That would really nice.” Joon smiled.
“Good. You wait right here and I’ll bring it back for you.”
Several minutes had passed when Joon noticed the woman coming out of the deli holding a bag. When she approached and handed Joon the bag, she said, “I got you a turkey and cheese hoagie. There are chips, a soda, and a pack of cookies for dessert.”
“Thank you,” Joon said, opening the bag and looking inside.
“So, honey, where’s your mom and dad?”
Joon got that sensation in the pit of her stomach, the one that Ragtop had warned her to recognize, and she rolled up the bag and focused on the woman out of the corner of her eye. “They’re coming to meet me here soon.”
“I don’t see them anywhere. Are you lying to me?”
There was an edge to the question Joon didn’t like. “No, my mom and dad are meeting me here.” She rose to her feet slowly, but the lady stepped closer, and Joon backed up against the wall.
“I think you should come with me. I’m sure I can help you find a place to sleep. I hate seeing children like you out here on the streets.” The woman was still smiling, but there was something off about it, like when she’d first met Aron.
“No thank you,” she said, trying to squeeze between the wall and the woman.
The woman’s hand clasped down on Joon’s wrist, and she put her mouth next to Joon’s ear. “Listen, you little shit. I just paid eight bucks for that food you’re holding. You need to relax and walk with me. My car is parked at the end of the block. Now, get moving.”
Joon yanked hard on her arm, trying to pull her wrist away, but the woman held tight as she moved down the block. “If you make a scene, this will be much harder for you,” she whispered.
“Hey!” a voice boomed from behind them.
Joon turned and saw Ragtop rushing up to them.
Ragtop stood in front of the lady, her feet set apart and hands clenched into fists. “Well, if it isn’t Bailey. Always looking for new blood to satisfy that lousy prick pimp of yours.” Ragtop’s teeth were bared and she was swaying from side to side, like a boxer waiting for the fight to start. She kept her eyes locked on Bailey as she spoke. “Joon, baby, I want you to go over and stand with that big black man. See that real tall one standing over near the bench?”
Joon looked behind her, and sure enough, there he was. “Yes.”
“Good. His name is TeTe. He’s a good friend of mine. Now you go on like I said, go over to him.”
TeTe waved Joon toward him, and Bailey reluctantly let go.
Joon ran to TeTe, and he took her small hand in his own. They both stood watching the two women a short distance away.
Ragtop leaned in close to Bailey. “Let me be real fuckin’ clear with you. That is a child. She ain’t old enough to know her ass from a hole in the ground. I don’t wanna see you around her again. That girl is with me, so you can take your fat ass back to Richy Love and tell him that she’s off-limits. You tell him if I see ya bothering that girl again, I’m gonna go to the cops and tell them where to find him. Richy Love will know that I mean it too. Now, get yourself off this block before I whoop your ass.”
“Fuck you, Ragtop. Who do you think you’re talking to? You can’t get over that Richy Love left you for me. Besides, you ain’t the boss. You don’t own this block, bitch,” Bailey said.
“Oh, I own this motherfuckin’ block every time that child over there is on it.” For good measure, Ragtop pulled back her arm and punched the other woman in the face.
Bailey cupped her nose with both hands as blood gushed through her fingers.
Ragtop stepped back and lifted her fists in front of her. “You want more?”
Bailey, with her hands still over her nose, rushed away. Before she was too far, she turned back and screamed, “Richy Love isn’t gonna let you get away with this, you whore!”
“Yeah, I’m a whore. You a whore
. We all whores except for that child standing over there. Go home. Be grateful that I smashed that pig nose of yours. Consider it a free nose job,” Ragtop yelled back before joining TeTe and Joon. She looked at the girl with a serious expression. “Joon, you remember what that woman looks like. If you see her on the streets, you leave in a hurry and go back to the underpass. If you can’t get to the underpass, ya look for TeTe here or Thatch. You got me?”
Joon nodded. “Yeah. She bought me lunch, but then she grabbed my wrist and I couldn’t fight her.”
“I know, kid. That’s how fast it happens on the streets. Remember when I told you about pimps that turn young girls out?”
“Yeah, but I thought pimps were boys.”
“Yeah, well, sometimes pimps put girls out on the streets to find girls like you. It’s easy for kids to trust women. But once they get ya in their car, they take you to their pimp. He beats you and does awful things to you, then he turns ya out. So stay the hell away from her.”
Joon trembled, imagining what would have happened to her if Ragtop hadn’t been there. She crossed her arms over her chest and held tight to keep herself from shaking.
Ragtop stooped and embraced the girl. “It’s okay,” she said, soothing her. “You’re safe, but I gotta explain these things to you; otherwise, I ain’t doing you no good.”
Joon held on to the woman tight. Once she calmed down, she adjusted the bandana on her head and looked at Ragtop with a forced smile. “I saw you punch that lady.”
Ragtop let go of the embrace to crack her knuckles and smile. “I wanted to knock her lights out.”
“Yeah, Ragtop can beat a man’s ass. I’m even scared of her,” TeTe said.
Ragtop and Joon looked at him. Joon was mesmerized by his size. TeTe stood over six feet tall. He wore his curly hair cropped tight to his head. His facial expression was serious and Joon thought that maybe he was angry with her.
“Don’t worry, baby. TeTe ain’t mad at you,” Ragtop said, reading the girl’s expression. “Stop looking at her like that, TeTe. Can’t you see you’re making the kid nervous?”
Joon continued to watch the man, taking in his dark-brown skin and high cheekbones. Then TeTe gave the girl a smile to die for, and Joon relaxed and smiled back.
Ragtop shook her hips back and forth. “You two ain’t been properly introduced. TeTe, this is Joon. Joon, meet TeTe.”
“Is TeTe your real name?” Joon asked.
“It sure is.” TeTe bowed, took Joon’s hand in his own, and kissed the top.
“You are a damn fool,” Ragtop said, laughing. “Thanks for hanging around to help me out.”
“It was my pleasure. Miss Joon, I have to be leaving now. It was nice to meet you and I’m sure we will be seeing each other real soon. If you ever need me, I’m at Rittenhouse Square at some point every single day, even holidays,” he said and gave her bandana a gentle tug.
“Nice to meet you too,” Joon said, then turned to Ragtop. “Will you show me how to get to the square where TeTe goes?”
“Yeah, course I will.”
A short time later, Ragtop and Joon were walking back to the underpass. Joon had had enough of a scare for one day, and she clung to Ragtop’s hand as they made their way through the city streets in silence.
A few blocks away, after careful consideration, Ragtop spoke. “What happened today ain’t good. Living on the streets, you’re gonna come across some really mean people. There are gonna be people who wanna hurt you so they can get something. Do you know how to fight?”
“No. I’ve never hit anybody, but I’ve been hit. I know that if you really want to hurt somebody to punch them in the ear or mouth. It always hurt really bad when Aron punched me in one of those places. But you can teach me to fight. I learn real fast.”
“Oh Jesus,” Ragtop said, looking up into the sky, then back at Joon. “You sure had to learn things the hard way. Don’t you worry none. Your time has come.”
“So you’ll teach me how to fight?”
“Yeah, Joon. I’ll teach ya how to fight. Knowing how to protect yourself comes in handy out here,” Ragtop said.
That night, as Joon lay on the cool concrete, she thought about how much better her life was away from Aron. The way Joon viewed it, she’d never had a home at Aron’s house, and here, in the streets of Philadelphia, at least she felt like she was a part of a small family.
Chapter Fourteen
As the weeks wore on and Thanksgiving approached, even Joon knew they couldn’t sleep at the underpass anymore.
“Can we go somewhere else, Ragtop? I’m freezing here. It makes my bones hurt, and I can hardly sleep during the night because it’s too cold.” Joon pressed her hands between her thighs to keep them warm. “Do you remember a couple of weeks ago when I told you that I met a girl named Avery?”
Ragtop rubbed her eyes. “The girl who’s going blind. It’s a damn shame about that, kid. What about her?”
“I saw her this morning, and she said that a bunch of them are going to start riding the trains at night for as long as they can to keep warm. Maybe we should do that too.”
While Joon was jabbering, Ragtop’s mind was somewhere else. The woman was thinking how much easier it had been when she had only herself to take care of. She’d go to a shelter or even camp out at an abandoned house with some other homeless people. But now that she felt responsible for Joon’s well-being, it was more difficult and risky to take Joon, because the places she normally went were filled with adults.
“Ragtop? Are you listening to me? Did you hear what I said about the trains?”
“Yes, child, I heard you. I got other things on my mind. You’re too young to be riding around on a train all night. Besides, that could be dangerous. Gangs take trains. I have something else in mind.”
Joon smiled and clapped her hands together. “Really? What?”
“Nothin’ I can tell ya about right now. You’ll just have to trust me. I promise, tonight will be our last night at the underpass. After tonight, I’ll get us somewhere we can stay warm and take baths. How’s that sound?”
Joon had been with Ragtop for almost two months, and having gotten to know her well, she sensed Ragtop was hiding something from her. “It sounds great, but how are we gonna pay for it?”
“You know what your problem is? You worry too much for a kid. Where I get the money isn’t your concern. I said I’ll take care of it,” Ragtop said with a tone of finality.
“Okay,” she said, but there was a touch of doubt to it. “I have to get going. I’m gonna be late for my lessons with Ginger, and she gets really pissed if I’m late. We’re working on math this week.”
“Oh yeah? That makes me real happy to hear. I saw Ginger last week. She said you’re a real smart girl. I told her, ‘You ain’t gotta tell me that Joon is smart. I know she’s smart. That’s why you gotta keep teaching her. Because someday, she’s gonna make a difference in this world.’”
Joon put her arms around Ragtop and squeezed her tight. “Thanks. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. Gotta go. Love you,” Joon sang as she started to walk in the cold November morning.
She alternated between running and walking fast to the other side of Broad Street to meet Ginger. Ginger had a job at a local donut shop. She didn’t make enough money to get off the streets, but it helped her take care of herself, and it was convenient for the two to meet there. Ginger’s friends behind the counter always gave Joon a donut and glass of milk when they met, which was four times each week. Ginger had to work a day shift on Fridays, so that was Joon’s day to study and get all the homework done that Ginger had assigned to her.
Joon didn’t have a strong connection with Ginger—she was a good teacher, but most times, she was rather brash with the young girl. Ginger always wanted to know what the girl was thinking, but Joon was very guarded about what she shared. After Aron, she needed to completely trust an adult before she’d open up to them, and Ginger hadn’t gained her trust. Joon was quiet—Aron had raised
her to be silent unless told to speak—but she missed nothing.
That night, after her lesson and after she and Ragtop shared a can of tuna and the last of their bread, the older woman got Joon settled and left her alone. By morning, Ragtop was lying next to Joon on the concrete, and together, they were generating just enough heat under their blankets to keep them from freezing to death. When they woke, they gathered their things together and headed across town.
The unlikely duo walked into the lobby of an old, unkempt motel. The man behind the counter looked over his reading glasses and eyed them up and down. “How can I help you?”
Ragtop pushed her long dreads behind her shoulders and stepped closer to the counter. “I need a room.”
The man cleared phlegm from his throat. “Oh yeah? For how long?”
Ragtop fidgeted with the waistband of her jeans. “I’m not sure yet. At least a couple of months.”
“Well, you don’t get a deal for staying longer. It’s thirty-seven dollars a night, whether you’re here one night or a hundred. The price goes up twenty bucks in the summer, when all the tourists visit the city.”
“Fine. What do you need?”
The man pulled out a clipboard. “Fill that out and I’ll need thirty-seven dollars for tonight. If you don’t pay by eleven a.m. tomorrow, you’ll be thrown out. That’s how it works. Every day, you make sure I have that night’s money.” The man turned and stared at Joon. “This your kid?”
Joon shrank back and pushed her body against Ragtop. The older woman put her arm around Joon’s shoulders. “Something like that. What’s it to you?” she snapped.
“Listen, lady, I don’t give a good goddamn if that’s your kid or not. But don’t let me find out you’re doing anything to hurt her.”
Joon was annoyed at the accusation. “Ragtop would never hurt me.”
“Whatever you say, kid. I heard that song before.”
Ragtop had filled out the few lines of information, writing her parent’s home address on the form.