“It was like they were homeless,” Lonnie told Mrs. Finley, then instantly regretted speaking out, thinking he may have said something inappropriate.
“That’s an interesting thought,” she said. “Would you care to elaborate?”
Lonnie glanced around the room, but nobody looked at him as if he had said the wrong thing. “Well, sometimes when homeless people don’t have anywhere to go, they end up living under bridges or in abandoned buildings. In Mary and Joseph’s case, they couldn’t find a room at the inn, so they stayed in an animal stable, like they were homeless. But they knew they weren’t going to live there permanently. They knew things were going to get better, the same as with a lot of homeless people. Things may be real bad for them, but they have to believe that their problems are only temporary.”
“What an astute observation,” Mrs. Finley said. “Thank you for sharing.”
Lonnie wasn’t sure what astute meant, but he liked the sound of the word. He left, thinking that he had as much to contribute to the Sunday school discussions as some of the know-it-alls in there, provided he didn’t make any horror movie references.
He walked down the hallway and stopped by the rear window. Looking out, he realized that Catfish Creek had lost all its appeal for him. He no longer had any desire to hang out down there. And it wasn’t because he was afraid of running into Moses or some other homeless person. He needed some consistency in his life, and church seemed like a good place for it.
Lighted Christmas wreaths with red bows hung on the walls of the sanctuary, and poinsettia plants lined the sides of the church stage. The pianist played Christmas carols, while the congregation made its way inside. A few ladies stopped and asked Lonnie how he was doing. He said fine, not caring to share what was really going on in his life.
He had planned to sit with some of the guys from his Sunday school class, but Jo Marie quickly scooted in his pew and sat next to him.
“I’m glad you’re here, Lonnie,” she said cheerily.
“Thanks. I’m glad to be here, too.”
Jo Marie wasn’t so bad, he decided. A little too churchy for his taste, but what did he expect with her dad being a preacher? After that day when he broke down in front of her, he felt as if they had grown closer.
Brother Beasley led the congregation in singing “Joy to the World.” Lonnie never been much of a singer, but he belted out the words to each verse enthusiastically.
Brother Elrod preached a sermon titled “I’ll Be Home for Christmas.” With Christmas a week and a half away, Lonnie had no idea where he would be spending it. And it certainly wasn’t going to be at “home.”
After retelling the story of the birth of Jesus, Brother Elrod explained to the congregation that while Mary and Joseph weren’t in their house at the time of the birth, they were still “home” because “home is wherever God is.”
“Life is hard, but God is good,” Brother Elrod emphasized as he concluded his message.
Lonnie turned to Jo Marie and said, “What an astute observation.”
She gave him a curious look, not sure if he was putting her on.
After church, Lonnie and his dad ate lunch at the Wendy’s near the motel, and Lonnie paid for their food with his leaf-raking money.
“How was church?” his dad asked.
“Alright, I guess.”
“What’d they preach about?”
“Oh, the usual stuff. You know, about God and Jesus.”
“That’s good.”
After lunch, they returned to the motel to watch football on TV. Lonnie dozed off midway through a game between the Tampa Bay Buccaneers and the Carolina Panthers, but he woke up in time to watch the Dallas Cowboys play the Miami Dolphins. He told his dad that they were running low on clean clothes, and could he take him to the Laundromat as soon as the game was over.
His dad cursed when a Cowboys receiver dropped what looked like a sure touchdown pass. “I don’t know why I bother watching those stupid Cowgirls,” he complained. “They always choke before the season’s over.”
“Did you hear what I said?” Lonnie asked.
“Yeah, yeah.” His dad cursed again when the kicker missed a forty-two yard field goal try on the next play.
During the commercial break, Lonnie gathered their dirty clothes and stuffed them into trash bags. Then he sat back down and watched as the Cowboys continued to trail the Dolphins.
Finally, with six and a half minutes left in the fourth quarter, and with the Cowboys losing 38 to 14, his dad turned off the TV and grabbed his car keys from the dresser. “Come on, let’s go.”
Lonnie took the trash bags outside. His dad opened the car trunk and was about to help him load them in, when he heard someone say, “Hey, amigo. You got a light?”
Two men were standing behind them.
“Sorry, I don’t smoke,” Lonnie’s dad said.
One of the men pulled out a gun and pointed it at his face. “Then how about giving us your money?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
“C’MON, MAN, DON’T DO THIS,” Lonnie’s dad pleaded. “We’re going through a real rough time right now.”
“Yeah? Well, so are we. Now give me your wallet.” The gunman turned his weapon on Lonnie. “You, too, little man. Empty your pockets.”
It was dark, and Lonnie couldn’t see the men’s faces clearly, but the gunman looked familiar. For a second, he thought it was Kevin Williams, the man who had shot his mother. But it couldn’t be him. Kevin Williams was dead.
The gunman’s accomplice was a tall, slender, African-American man with an uncombed afro. Both men were dressed shabbily, and Lonnie wondered if they were homeless.
“Listen, I ain’t worked in almost a year,” Lonnie’s dad said. “This is all the money we got.”
“We ain’t got time to listen to your crying,” the gunman’s accomplice said. “Do what Carl says before he shoots you both, and then takes your wallets anyway.”
The gunman glared at him. “Why’d you call me by my name? I told you never to use our names.”
“Let’s just get the money and split,” his accomplice said without acknowledging his mistake.
“Everything out of your pockets,” the gunman ordered. “Now!”
Reluctantly, Lonnie and his dad took out their wallets, pocket change, cell phones and keys.
“Take ’em, Dewayne,” the gunman said.
“I thought you said we weren’t gonna use our names.”
“Just take ’em!”
“Can you at least let us keep our car?” Lonnie’s dad asked.
Carl chortled. “You think we want that piece of junk?” He peeked inside the trunk to make sure there wasn’t anything of value in it. “Keep it, amigo.”
Dewayne tossed the keys on the ground. He shoved the coins and cell phones in his pocket, and then counted the money in the wallets. “Dawg, Carl! They got almost six hundred bucks between them.”
Carl smiled. He kept his gun pointed at them as he and his partner walked backwards. “A pleasure doing business with you, amigos,” he said with a soldier’s salute. Then they disappeared into the night.
Lonnie and his dad stood speechless, too stunned to react to what had just happened. Lonnie’s dad’s entire unemployment check money was gone. So was Lonnie’s leaf-raking money. They couldn’t even go back inside their motel room to call the police because their key cards were in their wallets.
Lonnie’s dad’s face crumpled, and he began to sob. “I can’t take this no more. We got nothing left. Nothing!” His knees buckled, and Lonnie had to hold him by the waist to keep him from falling. “I don’t know what to do no more. I just …” The tone in his voice changed from sobbing to loud, animal-like howls. He pounded the hood of his car with his fists and screamed at the top of his lungs, “God, help me!”
As much as Lonnie wanted to cry too, he couldn’t. He had to be strong for his dad, like Mr. Treviño had advised. “Let’s go to the office and tell them what happened,” he said. “They c
an call the police for us.”
“What good do you think that’s gonna do? You think the cops are gonna get our money back?”
Lonnie had already made a mistake by not calling the police when he should have, and he wasn’t going to make the same mistake again, whether or not their money could be recovered. With his arm around his dad, he walked him to the office. Finally his dad composed himself and dried his tears.
No one was at the window, but there was a bell on the counter with an index card that read RING BELL FOR SERVICE. In the back room, Lonnie could hear the TV blaring. Whoever was working the desk was watching the game.
He hit the bell several times. The TV volume became mute, and a man appeared at the window. He looked irritated, and Lonnie heard him mutter something about the Dallas Cowboys.
“Can I help you?”
“We just got robbed at gunpoint!” Lonnie told him. “We need you to call the police.”
“Was it two of them? A white guy and a black guy?” the clerk asked, sounding almost bored.
“Yeah. How did you know?”
The clerk sighed. “This is the third time those guys have robbed our tenants. What do they think this place is, anyway? The First National Bank?”
“We also need new key cards to get back in our room,” Lonnie said. “They took our wallets with our key cards in them.”
“Well, you know there’s a five-dollar charge for lost key cards,” the clerk said.
“We didn’t lose them. They were stolen.”
“We still gotta replace them, lost or stolen.” The clerk turned to Lonnie’s dad. “I’ll add the cost of the cards to your weekly rent, which, FYI is due tomorrow.”
He picked up the phone and called 911. “Yeah, this is Floyd Womack, the manager at the Twin Oaks Motel, 6211 Freestone Avenue. Seems like we had another robbery here.” He paused and asked Lonnie, “Anyone get hurt?”
“No, sir.”
“Naw, they’re all right. They just got their wallets stolen, that’s all.”
“And our cell phones,” Lonnie said.
“And their cell phones. Yeah, I’ll be here all night. I suppose they will, too.” He asked Lonnie, “Y’all aren’t planning to go anywhere tonight, are you?”
“I don’t think so.” With their money gone, they wouldn’t be able to do their laundry or even go out to buy dinner.
“Yeah, okay. Thanks.” The clerk hung up. He looked for Lonnie’s dad, who was hidden in the shadows. “They’re sending out a squad car. In the meantime, I guess you need to get back in your room. Which one are you in?”
“One-thirteen,” Lonnie said.
“You want one key or two?”
“One.”
The clerk handed Lonnie the new key card, and he and his dad walked back to their room to wait for the police.
Lonnie dropped the dirty clothes bags on top of the table. His dad sat on the edge of his bed, hunched over, and ran his fingers through his hair. “I don’t know what to do,” he said. “We can’t stay here after tonight. They want the rent a week in advance, and I ain’t got the money for it.”
“Do you think you could borrow the money from somebody?” Lonnie asked.
“How will I pay it back? I don’t get a check for another two weeks, and we can barely make it on that money without having to pay back a loan.” His dad lay on his bed with his hands clasped behind his head and stared at the ceiling. “You know what? I think maybe it’s time for you to go live with your grandparents, buddy. They were right. You need to stay with them till I can get back on my feet, and that might take a while.”
“No, I want to stay with you,” Lonnie said. “Come on, we’ll figure something out.” What really frightened him was what would become of his dad if he was left alone. Lonnie worried he might lose hope completely and end up like Moses. “We still have all our furniture and things in storage. Maybe you can sell some of it.”
“If I do, I’ll have to find a buyer real quick, ’cause I gotta let the front desk know by noon that we’re staying, and they’ll expect me to pay for the room at that time.”
“If by some chance you can’t come up with the money, do you think we could stay with one of your friends?” Lonnie asked.
“That ain’t gonna work, buddy. If we could’ve stayed with them, I wouldn’t have brought you to this flea bag motel. But they got their families. They ain’t got no room for us.”
Choosing his words carefully, Lonnie said, “I only have a few days of school left before the semester ends, and it wouldn’t be a problem for me to transfer to another school in January.”
His dad sat up. “What are you getting at?”
“Well, at one time you were thinking about us moving to Abilene. We could drive there tomorrow and stay with your parents. I’d miss a few days of school, but we’re not doing a whole lot right now, with Friday being the last day before the Christmas break.”
“No! I’m not gonna go back there and grovel at their feet, begging for scraps.”
“Dad, I don’t get it. You were thinking about doing that at Thanksgiving.”
“Yeah, but you saw how they treated me. I’ll always be the burro of the family. I don’t wanna go back to Abilene till I can show them that I don’t need their help.”
There was a knock at the door, followed by a voice that said, “Marsville Police.”
Lonnie’s dad invited the two officers in and gave them a detailed account of what happened.
“We heard their names,” Lonnie said, thinking he had an important clue that would help the police catch the robbers. “One guy’s name is Carl and the other one’s name is Dewayne.”
“Carl Muncie and Dewayne Smalls,” one of officers said, deflating Lonnie’s excitement.
“You know who they are?” Lonnie’s dad asked.
“Yeah, they’re a couple of drifters who’ve been hitting the area. So far, they haven’t hurt anyone. They just take what they want and go. We’ve been trying to catch them, but they work pretty fast.”
The second officer added, “All we can tell you is that we’ll step up patrol here in the east side. Hopefully we can stop them before they decide to do something really stupid.”
After the police left, Lonnie’s dad opened the fridge, took out a can of beer and sat in a chair. “First thing tomorrow, I’ll get our phones deactivated,” he said. “The only thing is, the phone store’s not gonna replace our phones for free, and I ain’t got the money to pay for new ones.” He shook his head in disgust. “I ain’t got money to pay for nothing.”
“But you’re going to sell some of our things tomorrow,” Lonnie said. “We made pretty good money from our yard sale, and our furniture’s worth a lot more than the stuff we sold then.”
His dad replied bitterly, “Or maybe I’ll just stand on a street corner with a cardboard sign that says HOMELESS. PLEASE HELP. GOD BLESS.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
LONNIE TRIED TO REMAIN FOCUSED on his studies, despite not knowing where he would be spending the night. He bowed his head, while pretending to read a book, and asked God to help his dad raise the money and also to help him find a job.
At one time, he might have confided in Axel about what they were going through, but now they seemed like total strangers.
Yvette asked him how he was doing, and he told her he was doing fine. She said good and walked away. Lonnie knew she was only being polite. She wasn’t really interested in him, especially not after he saw her making out with Michael de Luna on the stairwell.
During passing period, Jo Marie reminded Lonnie of the Youth Christmas Party being held at the church Sunday night. A party would certainly be a lot more fun than sitting in their motel room watching TV. He told her he would try to make it.
When his dad picked him up from school, the first thing Lonnie asked was, “Were you able to sell our furniture?”
He drove away, staring straight ahead with both hands on the wheel.
“Were you?”
“Yeah, I so
ld some of it.”
“And?”
He slapped the steering wheel. “I got eighty-seven bucks! That’s it. People treated me like I was some kinda crook trying to sell stolen merchandise.”
Looking at his disheveled appearance, Lonnie could believe it.
“I had to put gas in the car, so there went a good chunk of the money. And then I had to buy a disposable cell phone that I’ll have to use till I can afford a better one.”
“Do you have enough money left for us to stay at the motel tonight?” Lonnie asked.
“Yeah, but what are we gonna do tomorrow? And the next day? And the day after that?” he asked, his face haggard with worry. “I got our clothes and things in the trunk. I had to move us out of our room ’cause I couldn’t pay for it by noon, and I didn’t sell nothing till after one o’clock. I guess I could still go back and check us in again, but that place just ain’t safe.”
“So what are we going to do?”
“I don’t know. Maybe Gilly will let us sleep in his house on the floor or something.”
Lonnie had an idea, but he couldn’t remember the man’s name. Mercer? Murphy? He had entered the name and number in his phone, but now it was gone. Marlow? Martin? Marriott. That’s it! Marriott, as in the hotel chain.
“Dad, I think I know somebody who can help us.” Lonnie told him about his visit with Mr. Treviño and his suggestion that they contact Mr. Marriott at the Helping Hand.
“Why are you talking to a teacher about our problems? You ain’t got no business spilling family secrets.”
“Dad, we need help.”
“Well, I ain’t gonna go to no shelter, I can tell you that right now.”
“So you’d rather sleep on Gilly’s cold floor? You told me he doesn’t even want us staying with them. Or maybe you think we ought to sleep under the I-27 bridge with Moses.”
His dad didn’t answer.
“I really think we should check out the Helping Hand. Mr. Treviño seems to feel that it’s an okay place, and I trust him. Please?”
On the Other Side of the Bridge Page 15