I don’t reach out and take them from her. It feels wrong.
“Just try them on, see if they fit.” She then places them on the ground by my feet and walks away. I see her standing with Billy, talking to an older woman who is upset about something.
I look at the shoes and warm looking socks in front of me and wonder if I should try them on. They don’t look very used, so chances are they’re going to hurt my feet until I wear them in.
I put the socks on over my cold, bare feet and feel warmth spread through my toes. They’re fluffy and possibly the most comfortable things I have ever worn. I put the shoes on next and they fit almost perfectly. They’re a bit too big, but the thick socks mean they fit fine and by the time the socks get thinner, I’ll have grown a bit more.
I lose myself while looking at the shoes until I notice movement in the corner of my eye. I look up to see Emma sitting on another bed with her arm around the shoulders of the old lady I noticed upset earlier. Emma rubs her back while the old lady sobs. Billy sits down next to me and I jump, not having heard him coming towards me.
“Have this, too. You’ll need it.” Billy passes over a hoody and without thinking about it too much this time, I reach out and grab it. It feels warm like the socks and I ache to put it on. I haven’t worn a hoody in years because, on the street, it’s worth stealing. It’s less trouble if you have nothing worth stealing. Even the sleeping bag I owned had to be kept hidden to keep it safe. I turn the hoody around in my hands. It’s dark blue and I move my hands into it to let my fingers brush the soft fabric inside. I feel Billy’s eyes on me as I take the hoody in and sigh out loud as I place it over my head, pulling it down to bring the bottom of it to rest at my hips. It’s a bit tight, but it’ll definitely last me until the next winter.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. I used to live on the street; got myself hooked on meth. I’m lucky to be alive today. I learned a few things, though, and I can tell you’re not going to stay here. That’s okay. When you’re ready to get help, we’ll be here for you.”
I look down at my new shoes. I’m not going to stay here because as soon as they know I’m sixteen, I’ll be taken away. I would be put in the foster system and I don’t want that. I can handle myself and I don’t need anyone taking care of me.
“Anyway, stay as long as you want. We have beds here free most nights and we serve hot food every night at five. If you need a bathroom, there are some along there.” Billy points down a hallway on the opposite side of the room. “Or if you need to talk, Emma or I are always here to listen.”
I nod and wonder if I could actually use a place like this. Free regular meals, maybe even some clothes that will get me a job. I can make some money, buy my own food and get a place to live. Is something like that possible for me?
I watch Billy walk away and he sits down next to an older guy who immediately smiles upon seeing him. A few moments later, they’re laughing when only minutes earlier, he had looked broken. I never really saw the use in shelters; they never helped me, but they had done a lot to help Gavin and people like him. Maybe they aren’t so bad and maybe Billy isn’t a bad guy.
Having a sudden need to use the bathroom, I get up, feeling eyes watch me as I weave through the beds and find my way to the hallway. The bathroom is empty when I go in and, after finishing what I need to do, I take the time to look at myself in the mirror. My face is bruised from the punches I received last night, but already some appear to be fading. I pull up the sleeves of my new hoody and see bruises on my arms where I had been pinned down.
Seeing myself look like this reminds me of living with my aunt and uncle. I don’t like the feeling, so I quickly look away from the mirror and decide to take advantage of the hot water from the sink in front of me and wash my face. The water coming off me is dirty and when I rinse through my hair, I notice blood is being washed away, too. I dry my face off with the small hand drier and feel my uneven hair blowing around as I dry it. I keep my eyes away from the mirror and walk out of the bathroom.
I move to enter the hallway when I see Billy talking to someone in a suit. Billy is facing me and so the man he’s talking to has his back to me. At first, I worry it’s a social worker and they have called in someone on me. I keep myself hidden around the corner and crouch down while glancing around the corner to see what’s happening.
I watch the man turn to the side and realize it’s the same guy who’s chasing me. I back up against the wall in a panic and see Billy narrow his eyes at me. He shakes his head and shrugs at the man. Emma comes up beside me then and quickly leads me down the same corridor I have just been down and out of view of the man chasing me.
“What’s wrong?”
“I have to get out of here.”
“Who is that man? Why is he looking for you?”
“He did this to me.” I pull up my hoody and shirt and show her the long bruise she had seen earlier.
“What does he want with you?” I see sorrow in her eyes and also some fear.
“I don’t know. He’s chasing me.” My panic tries to overwhelm me as I worry that he might pull out his gun again. What if he starts shooting it in here? What about all the people around us?
“There’s a back way out, this way.” Emma points past the bathroom and I follow her towards a small kitchen. She leads me through the back door and we end up at an alleyway. The morning light is just starting to rise in the sky so the chill still hangs in the air.
“If you’re in trouble, you can tell me. We can go to the police,” Emma pleads with me.
“Thank you for everything.” I feel I owe her more, but I don’t know what.
“At least tell me your name.”
“Will Parker.” I turn my back on her then and move away. I have to get out of this town. I have to leave this place and hope I’m not followed again.
***
I fear the man chasing me has access to bus depot cameras, so I decide that I’ll try hitchhiking. Gavin has always told me never to hitchhike, however I think this extreme situation calls for something drastic. I go to a truck stop and after contemplating the idea of hiding away somewhere I’m instead offered a free ride to Vegas, which leads me to find out I have just been in Los Angeles. The guy gives me the creeps, but I don’t see much choice. I get into his truck and try not to breathe in through my nose as the bad smell is almost unbearable.
The man ends up being really nice and reminds me of Gavin in a way. He needs to talk about his life problems and since I don’t like talking, it seems like I’m good listener. Fortunately, I have other things on my mind rather than listening to BO’s problems, so I tune out early on.
I keep thinking about the man chasing me and wondering how he knew where I had gone. I had been in a park late at night when Emma had found me and taken me to the shelter. It would have been too dark for anyone to see anything. The only thing that makes sense is someone there reported me to the authorities. They wouldn’t have had my name, but someone fitting my description would have been all that man needed.
I look out the window and watch the desert surroundings pass us. The sun is out, but the air outside is cool. Living on the streets, the cold can kill people, yet so can the heat and summer is fast approaching. The in-between months are always the best or at least, the more bearable.
I watch as cars dangerously overtake us, some not even caring that another car is coming along in the other direction. I decide very quickly that I never want to be driven again, if possible, and feel sick being trapped in here. My stomach churns, sweat drips from my forehead and my heart races. I close my eyes in hopes I can pretend I’m somewhere else. The next time I open them, the sun is beginning to set and the lights of the strip in Vegas are visible.
I feel a small amount of excitement in the pit of my stomach start to rise past the churning that is still there. I never thought I would ever be in Vegas. Something about it makes me feel hopeful. Houses surround us and traffic gets thicker as we approach while nerves
start to pile on me, too. I’m about to try and start again in a new town, one I know nothing about.
“Kid?”
I turn and see the truck driver looking at me expectantly. I haven’t heard his question.
“What?”
“Where do you want me to drop you off? I can’t go down the strip in this truck.”
I shrug, I’m not even sure if I want to go into that crowded area. The truck driver continues to look at me expectantly, but before I can think of an answer I see, in the side mirror, a black car swerving through the cars behind us, speeding along. My heart stops as the car pulls up alongside of the truck and I watch the man who’s chasing me stick his head out of his car window and look upwards. I sit back, letting the driver block the man’s view of me, but I doubt it does any good. Somehow he has found out where I am again.
The car speeds up and overtakes us, causing the truck driver to swear violently at him.
“Stop the truck,” I whisper at the driver, trying to yell, but finding my voice weak.
“What?” the driver calls out while still busy glaring at the black car.
“STOP!” I scream it now as I watch the black car in front of us stall to a stop fifty or so yards ahead and the man jumps out of the car, leaving it sitting in the middle of the road.
The truck driver slams on his breaks and swerves into oncoming traffic that has to swerve to get out of our way. Screeches and smashes surround us and my head hits the dashboard in front, hard enough for me to see the world blur. Finally we stop just short of hitting a street sign.
I slowly turn my head and feel blood dripping down the side of my face. The truck driver has also hit his head. He is breathing heavily and his hands are white as they still grip onto the steering wheel, a now deflating airbag most likely breaking his bloody nose.
“Are you okay?” I groan, wiping some of the blood away from my face with the sleeve on my new hoody. It didn’t take very long for it to get dirty.
The driver doesn’t answer me; I soon stop worrying about him and begin to feel like a sitting duck. I have to get out of this truck. I open the door and fall out onto the hard ground before I stand up shakily and dust myself off, trying to gain control back in my legs. I look around me and see people everywhere. Several accidents have happened and lots of damaged cars are wrecked around me. Sirens are going off in the distance, but I can only just make them out over the screams and cries that surround me.
No one appears to be seriously injured and I hope that’s true as I move quickly through everyone and head towards the bright lights of the strip. I quickly manage to get into a run without looking back to see if I’m being followed. I feel like running is the most important job I have to do and push myself to go as fast as my legs allow. My heart bashes harshly against my ribs and my lungs protest raggedly against the dusty air I’m breathing in, yet I ignore it all and keep going.
I make it to the rear of a large casino before I have to stop to catch my breath. I look around and see no one has followed me then look down at myself and frown. My hoody is covered in blood from my head wound and it’s also filthy from all the dirt I’ve been kicking up as I ran. My shoes are also dirty, but it’s at least harder to see that. My feet ache from not being used to the new shoes and I wince as I now have to limp around the side of the casino and stop just before I reach the crowd of people rushing past on the strip.
No one takes any notice of me and, for a moment, I don’t take any notice of the people. It’s not dark yet, but the sun above is quickly setting and some of the casinos already have their lights on. They look out of this world huge and extravagant. I briefly wonder what they’ll look like inside, but even though I know it’d be safer to be out in the crowd of people, I also know that I have blood everywhere. I need to blend in, not cause attention to myself. I have to clean myself up.
I turn back the way I came and move around the side of the casino so I’m at the back of it again, wondering where a public bathroom might be. As I turn the corner, I crash straight into someone.
“Sorry.” I keep my eyes downward, hoping to move past them quickly and that they don’t notice the state I’m in.
“No need to apologize, Will.”
I stop dead in my tracks upon hearing my name and look up into the face of the man who has been chasing me. Closer up, the man looks older than I had realized. His face is scarred on one side and while I can imagine him looking mean, right now his expression looks apologetic and reluctant.
“Who are you?”
“It’s not important. I’m sorry that I have to do this. I’m sorry I didn’t complete this earlier. You’ve proved harder to get to than I imagined. I didn’t want this to be painful or scary for you.”
“Please let me go,” I beg, taking a step backwards.
“Good-bye, Will.” The man looks relieved then as he holds out a gun in his hand towards me.
“No…” I close my eyes, knowing I won’t be able to get out of this one and that my time is finally up. Living on the streets, it probably should have come long ago.
Maybe this is better? My life has been filled with pain, hunger and sadness. What am I holding onto? Why bother fighting this anymore? Innocent people keep getting hurt. Gavin is dead.
I open my eyes, hearing a gasp from the man when I expect to hear a gunshot. I turn just in time to watch a van speeding towards us. I manage to jump aside and stare in horror as the van crashes into the wall of the casino, missing me by millimeters. I stand up shakily, trying to catch my breath and see the man who has been chasing me gasp because he’s now pinned to the wall. Blood drips down from his mouth and his eyes have widened in shock as he tries to mouth something to me. I can’t make out what he is trying to say, though. His eyes then close and his body goes limp as he takes in his last breaths.
His body starts to disintegrate and, as a strong wind rushes past me, the dust and ashes from where the man had been start to get blown away. I feel sure that isn’t normal. Doesn’t it usually take days if not weeks or years for something like that to naturally happen? I once saw a man on the street killed from the cold and Gavin had said he had been there for two days before we found him. This has only taken seconds to happen. Who had that man been? What had he been?
I feel dizzy, taking in the scene and my legs buckle from under me as another wave of nausea hits me. I close my eyes and panic when something goes over my mouth. It’s a damp cloth that smells strange. Arms wrap around me tightly and my legs drag against the ground. My body instinctively struggles against what is happening, but already, I feel myself getting weaker.
I manage to get myself free from the arms, but my legs can no longer support me and I hit the rough pavement under me hard. I try to call out, however my voice feels blocked. Tears fall down my face when black spots grow so big over my eyes that I can no longer see any light. I move my arms when someone takes hold of them again. I know I don’t have the strength to fight them anymore as I’m dragged away with the cloth pressed against my mouth more forcibly.
Muffled voices drift past my ears and I don’t understand what is being said. Sleep seems like the most important thing to do now, so I let myself slip into unconsciousness. Unaware of where I’m going or why I’m being taken away.
ROSE MONTGOMERY
Chapter Eleven – The Rumor
Los Angeles, California
Friday, April 6th
“Did you hear?” Macy leans in close to whisper to us all as we wait over by the copy machine. I try to appear bored by her words and the situation around us, but the truth is, I have a better view of the excitement that is going on in the bank from where we’re all standing than what I can see sitting at my desk.
“No, hear what?” June, just as quietly, whispers back.
I’m surrounded by everyone who loves to gossip at work, which let’s face it, is pretty much everyone here. When you work at a bank in Los Angeles, you tend to have some big client names. Gossip is a must. No account information is ever divu
lged, although sightings and rumors that surround those people in the latest trash magazines are always being mentioned.
“Money is missing, a lot.” Macy looks excited by those words rather than alarmed. Looking at all the police officers in uniforms and suits out in the main office it looks more like a sight from a movie rather than my place of work.
“Missing?” June sounds shocked and I roll my eyes at her. Everyone here knows why we’re being audited and why police are here. “Missing how?”
“Who do you think did it?” Macy ignores June’s question for the real juicy one.
Who did it? Is it someone here? Do we work with a thief? Or is it a less interesting option that we were robbed electronically and wirelessly from a stranger?
“Is that the police?” June again proves how daft she can be by that question. I want to answer her sarcastically that it’s really a costume party and everyone just decided to dress as cops, but I bite my tongue instead. I have made a decision to be nicer this year and I refuse to break it, especially since we aren’t even halfway through the year yet.
“This is serious,” Hugh speaks up. He is one of the more interesting guys at my work. He could be a runway model who is beyond hot and, unfortunately, completely gay. Monday morning is always the best time to have a chat with him since his stories from the weekend are always crazy and otherworldly.
“How much?” Trudy asks the group. She is the shyest girl I know and when she speaks we all try to listen. She lacks any confidence in life and I have a feeling she doesn’t have any life outside of work. She is thirty-five and still hasn’t managed to move out of her childhood home. I’m nineteen and the only thing that keeps me still living at home is the fact that my parents are always away and I have an entire section of the house to myself. It also helps that we live in Beverly Hills. No way can I afford anything in the same realm of nice on my pay.
“Thousands upon thousands I heard,” Macy informs us. I already know what is missing and it is well into the hundreds of thousands. I don’t communicate that knowledge to the others, though.
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