Reborn

by Orrin Jason Bradford

  “What the hell you think you’re doing, boy?” A large man with a belly that extended over his belt dressed in a light blue uniform glared down at him. Ahh, the guy warned me about this rent-a-cop.

  “Just using the facilities," TJ answered, in as light-hearted tone as he could muster.

  “These here facilities are for patrons only,” the man said as he continued to grip TJ’s shoulder painfully hard. “You got yourself a library card or some other form of ID?”

  “Gosh, I ran out of the house so fast this morning, I forgot my wallet,” TJ replied.

  “Yeah, I just bet you did. I should run you in for vagrancy.”

  “Oh, that won’t be necessary,” TJ replied as he tried to twist out of the man’s grasp. “My mom and I are staying at the shelter over on Ravencroft, so I’ll just be heading on over there.”

  “All right then,” the cop replied finally releasing his grip. “Get yourself back over there, and I don’t want to see you back around these parts, you hear?”

  “Yes, sir,” TJ said as he backed away from the man, then quickly turned to exit the bathroom before the cop changed his mind.

  Job Hunting

  1

  Pat held out to 12:30 before calling Shack. As she expected, the phone rang several times without him picking up, so she hung the phone up on the fourth ring before it had time to switch over to voicemail. She called a second time and hung up again after the fourth ring. Shack picked up on the third ring of the third try.

  “Who the hell is this, and I swear if you’re trying to sell me something I will personally hunt you down and rub you and your family out.”

  “Good afternoon, Shack. It’s Pat Vogt. See you’re as pleasant as always.”

  There was a momentary pause on the other end, then a much more pleasant voice answered. "Well, hello, good looking. To what do I owe this pleasant surprise? Have you finally come to your senses and dumped that no account vet and are ready to accept one of my many invitations to dinner?"

  “No to the first, and you know good and well your invitations were never just for dinner," Pat replied smiling. "I'm afraid this isn't personal, but business. I need your expertise in locating a missing person who we're pretty sure is in Asheville."

  “Oh,” Shack replied, clearly disappointed. “In that case, let me start my billing clock. Okay, go ahead.”

  “The missing person is a teenage boy. I can send you a recent picture. He left home yesterday morning.”

  “And who wants to find him?”

  “I do…and Allan,” Pat replied.

  “Your vet boyfriend?” Shack asked, growing more perturbed by the moment. “What’s the teenager’s name and what’s his relationship to this Allan guy?”

  “His name is TJ, and his relationship… it’s complicated. Let’s just say for the record he's Allan’s adopted son. Listen, Shack, I called you because I knew you had the connections there in Asheville and that you’d be…discreet in your inquiries. After all, we do go back a ways…” This was Pat’s way of reminding Shack of some of the secrets she had on him.

  “Yes, no need to bring up the past, sweetheart,” Shack replied. “Email me the picture along with anything else that might help me locate him, including anything he might have taken with him. Sometimes, we get lucky and these runaways hock items when they get desperate for money. We might get a lead that way.”

  “The only thing I can think he might have taken that he could hock would be a knife I gave him as a birthday present that my dad had given to me. I think I may still have a photo of it. If so, I’ll send that along as well.”

  “Good,” Shack replied. “I’ll get the word out and let you know what I turn up. Of course, there is one other condition for hiring me.”

  “Forget it. I’m not going to sleep with you.”

  “That really cuts me to my core. I was simply going to ask you to have dinner with me,” Shack replied, then added, “And we’d see where it went from there.”

  “I'll send the picture of TJ in a few minutes, and if I find the picture of the knife, I'll send it later," Pat replied, then hung up.

  2

  TJ’s job hunting plan was simple. He walked around the downtown section of Asheville looking for Help Wanted signs. It didn’t take long before he found one posted for a restaurant looking for servers and a dishwasher.

  Great, TJ thought as he pushed the door open and walked in. The more positions needed, the better his odds. He squared his shoulders and tried standing taller as he watched a young woman with blonde hair in a ponytail stroll through the swinging door, drying her hands with a towel. She wore black slacks and a khaki blouse with a name tag that identified her as Renee.

  “We’re not open yet,” Renee said as her gaze took in all of TJ’s appearance, a frown growing on her face.

  “I’m here for the job, Miss Renee,” TJ said, pointing to the sign in the window.

  “Really? Which one?”

  “The one that pays the most,” TJ replied smiling his most engaging smile.

  “How old are you anyway?" Renee returned his smile then tried to hide it with her hand.

  “How old do I need to be?”

  “Eighteen for the dishwashing job, twenty-one for the waiter position because we serve alcohol.”

  “I guess I better go for the dishwasher job then,” TJ replied.

  “Really? You’re eighteen?” the woman asked, cocking her head to one side. “Let me see your driver’s license.”

  “Sorry, I don’t have one,” TJ replied. “I know I look young for my age, but why should my looks or age matter if I can do a good job washing dishes?”

  “Because that’s the law,” she replied. “And if I were to hire you and it turned out you weren’t the legal age to work, I could lose my job, and that’s not going to happen. I have a three-year-old who has this habit she can’t seem to kick of eating three meals a day. Now, please leave. You’re smelling up the place.”

  And that brief job interview was the closest he came all day in becoming gainfully employed, despite inquiring at almost a dozen different businesses. By the time night fell for the second time since his arrival in Asheville, TJ felt dejected, tired and hungry as hell. Maybe I should check out the shelter over on Ravencroft, he thought, but it felt too much like he’d be admitting defeat, and he wasn’t ready to throw in the towel.

  With the sun setting in the west, the temperature started dropping again. It felt like he was in store for another cold night, which probably meant another night of sleeping in the dumpster; this time on an even emptier stomach than the night before. As he took a shortcut through Pack Square Park, he noticed an old lady with a small child feeding the pigeons, the birds flocking around the two of them. A thought suddenly came to him.

  He might end up sleeping in a dumpster again tonight, but no way was he going to bed hungry. He had ways to feed himself not available to other homeless people. He walked around the park looking for a secluded area where he could initiate his plan without being discovered. He found a corner of the park where the lights had apparently burned out and not been replaced. Perfect for his night escapade, he thought as he slipped behind a row of shrubbery. He quickly undressed, carefully folding his smelly shirt and pants on top of each other, then stuffing his socks inside his tennis shoes before placing the shoes on top of the clothes. He then hid the pile deep within the hedge and prayed no one would find them.

  He shivered in the cold night temperatures for only a couple of minutes before the shift to the great gray owl form began. Owls were great hunters, used to searching for their prey in the evening, and sighting one in an urban setting wasn't that uncommon. And one thing TJ had noticed during the day, Asheville had an abundant population of gray squirrels and even a few of the albino ones more commonly seen in the Brevard area. He'd heard Mimi talking about her Uncle Bo hunting squirrels and bringing them home to make a stew from them. Squirrel stew hadn't sounded all that appetizing to TJ at the time, but it sure sounded better
than eating one raw. Too bad, he berated himself. Beggars can't be choosers, and neither can hungry, homeless kids.

  He took his time making the shift. After all, it had been quite a while since he'd turned himself into an owl, and he was afraid he might be out of practice. When the transformation was complete, he stretched first one wing and then the other before using them to fly up onto the limb of a nearby tree. The owl form was the favorite of all his animal forms, and while he had no desire to become stuck in a form again, if he had to choose one to be stuck in, he would choose to be an owl. After all, the ability to fly was such a freeing experience.

  It didn't take long to detect his first prey. In owl form, his sight and hearing were even better than the heightened senses he had as a human. He could easily detect the movement of a small mammal on the ground below. He waited for it to move into the clearing below the tree. He then quietly launched himself into the air with a flap of his wings made virtually silent in flight by the special design of his feathers. As he descended on his prey, he identified it as a good size hare just before he fanned out his wings and knocked the rabbit over with his talons, hitting it in the head and neck. He felt the snap of the rabbit's neck and its final death throes underneath him. He looked around to see if anyone was approaching, but his silent assault assisted by the darkness had gone unnoticed.

  He dragged the carcass into the bushes not far from where he had stashed his clothes, feeling fortunate that his first hunting spree had gone so well. It also dawned on him that if he could find some matches, he could start a fire and cook his meal, which sounded much more appetizing than eating it raw. He decided to give it a shot. He found his pile of clothes, transformed back into human form and retrieved the rabbit. He then stuffed it into a plastic grocery bag he had found along the pathway leading back to the lit part of the park.

  Locating a book of matches took a little longer, but he finally found some that had been left behind on one of the sidewalk cafe tables along with a pack of cigarettes. He took both, figuring he might be able to trade the cigarettes for something later. He had read enough about living out in the wild to know that he needed to dress the rabbit before cooking it. Sure wish I still had my knife, he thought. That and the ski jacket were his two greatest losses when it came to practicality, though he also regretted losing Mimi’s book and the computer game Kendra had given him.

  But practical matters were becoming increasingly important to him, and right now he needed to be able to clean the rabbit carcass so he could cook it. He solved the problem with a soda pop bottle he had found on his way back to the park. Holding the bottle by its neck, he broke it on the concrete curb and came away with a sharp piece that would do nicely for cleaning the rabbit and also as a weapon in case anyone else tried to take advantage of him. Life on the streets might be hard, but it was also a good teacher if you could survive the lessons.

  That night he retired to the dumpster with a full stomach of cooked rabbit and a tool and weapon of the glass bottle. He had lined one end of the dumpster with several layers of newspapers he'd accumulated during the day and had sequestered the bags of garbage that had been tossed in it to the other end. He would use the remaining newspapers as a blanket. He might be cold, but he'd be warm enough to make it to the next day. Maybe his luck in finding a job would be better tomorrow, and one thing he also added to his plans. He needed to find a better place to live than the dumpster. After all, it wouldn't be long before it would be filled with garbage again.

  Miss Precious

  1

  By the middle of the next day, TJ had concluded that when it came to getting a job, he was in a no-win situation. Not only was his disheveled appearance a major obstacle, but even worse, he didn't have the necessary identification papers or a note from a parent or guardian. Without such papers, no one was willing to give him the time of day, much less take a chance with him by giving him a job.

  I can work. Sure I’m a young kid, but I can still do things like washing dishes, waiting on people, clearing tables, you name it. So why won’t someone give me a chance? The answers were all the same. No ID papers, no work, or you're dirty, and you smell, so get out of here, but it wasn't his fault he was dirty and smelled. If he could get a job, he'd be able to get his clothes cleaned and even take a bath somewhere.

  He decided he needed to take a break from job hunting. As Kendra had told him more than once, “You might not be able to stop bad things from happening to you, but you are in control of your attitude about those things.” Or something like that. He had to admit at the moment his attitude sucked, so he decided to change not only his attitude but also his form. Maybe seeing the city from a different perspective would help.

  He returned to the park that was rapidly becoming his second home. It was the closest he could come to his old habit of taking long walks in the woods when he was having a bad day. Plus, there were places in the park where he could shift to an animal form without being seen. He thought about shifting back into the owl form but decided to save it for later when he needed to hunt for his next meal. There had been enough rabbit left over for a good sized breakfast, so he could wait until the evening to hunt. Instead, he decided to explore Asheville in his dog form. He had noticed quite a few people walking around the city with their pet dogs, so maybe he'd get better treatment as a dog than as a human. In either case, he could explore the area freely while covering a good bit of ground as well.

  As he made the shift, the first thing he noticed was that he felt warmer in his canine coat than he did as a human with only a shirt and jeans to keep him warm. He also noticed a change in the people around him when he left his hiding place and started walking around the park. As a homeless person, people either ignored him completely or were antagonistic towards him. As a dog, many people continued to ignore him. Those who did notice him tended to be much friendlier and easy-going with him. A few even took the time to pat him on the head or talked to him as he walked by them.

  “Where are you going, boy?"

  “Lost your owner, big guy?”

  “Oh, what a handsome dog you are. Dad, can we take him home with us?”

  Of course, there were those who were also intimidated by his large size and would either cross the street to get away from him, or stop and wait for him to pass, but even they didn’t treat him harshly.

  Funny, TJ thought. Asheville seems to be friendlier to animals than to homeless people.

  He was enjoying his afternoon romp around the city when he found himself in a new section he’d not yet explored. The houses and buildings were older here and not as well kept, and the smaller park he found appeared to be going to seed and strewn with litter. He was about to turn around and retrace his steps when his canine senses were propelled into high alert by a bark that reminded him of the rabbit squeal he’d heard on the internet. Another dog was in trouble. He trotted towards the sound, his hackles raised.

  In the far corner of the park, he found an old playground with a set of swings, slides, and a merry-go-round in dire need of repair. Partially hidden under one of the slides was a small spaniel-looking dog trying to fend off the attack of three younger and larger dogs. The lead dog looked to be a cross between a pit bull and a larger, shaggier dog and was close to TJ's size. His two companions were smaller than the shaggy dog, but both the black and tan shepherd and the black short haired dog looked like they could hold their weight in any fight.

  TJ could just make out the greying muzzle of the spaniel sticking out from her improvised shelter as she growled and snapped at her three tormentors. Three big bruisers against one small old girl didn’t seem fair at all to TJ, but then he remembered the last time he’d tried to help out a lady in distress. His head was still sore from where she’d laid him out. He started to back away. No need to interfere. It wasn’t his fight.

  Just at that moment, the three dogs charged the spaniel, and the shepherd grabbed her by the nape of her neck and started pulling her out from under the slide where the other two do
gs could get to her as well. Before he realized what he was doing, TJ barked his most fierce and intimidating bark, and he charged into the fracas. He snapped at the hindquarters of the shepherd and was pleased to feel his teeth sink into the muscular rump, followed a second later with a high pierced bark of pain.

  The shepherd released its hold on the spaniel, who quickly retreated under the slide. As the shepherd turned to ward off his attacker, TJ took the opportunity to place him between the three assailants and the spaniel. He stood with his front legs wide apart and snarled a warning which he hoped meant something like; You want a piece of me? Come and get it! In dog speak. The two smaller dogs backed away, but the pit bull lunged at him, trying for his throat. Fortunately, TJ saw the attack coming and was able to sidestep as he clamped down on his attacker's right ear, ripping a large chunk of it off in his mouth. He promptly spit it out, surprised at the exhilaration he felt from the taste of blood.

  The pit bull backed off, shaking his head, sending droplets of blood flying off in all directions. The three dogs stood frozen in a semi-circle facing TJ, but none of them were prepared to further the fight. They slowly backed away and finally trotted out of the park.

  TJ stood watching them until he was sure they weren’t going to try to counterattack, then turned back to see if the spaniel was okay, but she was no longer under the slide. She’d used his diversion to slip out the back way and was even now hightailing it out of the park in the opposite direction.

  I’ll be…TJ thought. What an ungrateful…but then he stopped himself. Truth be told, if he'd been in her situation, he might have done the same thing. At least she didn’t hit me with her purse. He chuckled to himself at the thought. He'd done a good deed. That was what mattered, and he had lived to tell about it, even though he didn't have anyone to share it with at the moment.