“Isn’t that some character in a horror movie?” Darren asked while petting the dog’s wiry hair.
“Sounds like it, doesn’t it?” Malcom replied with a laugh. “But in his case it’s short for Rob Roy MacGregor. I’ve got a bit of the Scot in me, and always had a thing for ‘Highlander’, but I was damned if I was going to name him Connor or Duncan.”
“You could have gone for Methos.”
Malcom cocked an eyebrow. “You’re a ‘Highlander’ fan?”
“Was, way back when. I sort of outgrew it I guess.” Darren smiled dryly. “I get too much action in real life—just minus the sword.”
“Well, if you were a horse patrol cop you could pull off the sword.”
Darren laughed. “Somehow I don’t think my sergeant would go for it.”
“Probably not, but it would be interesting. And I’d better get moving before Gregor decides to do his business on the stoop.”
He’s a nice guy. Not my type but…That thought, as he watched the dog lead Malcom away, had Darren wondering what his type was—and not for the first time.
Chapter 2
With Jesse finally having graduated, and living full-time at his and Leah’s apartment, Darren’s life settled into a new routine—work, home, watch some TV or read, and go to bed, waking in time to grab something to eat before his shift began. Not exciting, but I get enough of that on patrol. At my age, who needs anything more? Well, except maybe a dog. He was still betwixt and between about getting one and so had put it off—at least for the time being.
“Another day, another homeless sweep before we can sign out,” Darren grumbled one Tuesday night in mid-June as they parked their squad car and took off on foot. They were heading into the pedestrian mall in the center of the downtown area with its plethora of alleys and side streets that they had to check out.
His partner, Zack, shrugged. “It is what it is, as they say. It’s finally summer, meaning there are more of them crashing outside rather than in the shelters.”
“Yeah.” Darren’s mouth tightened. Not because of what Zack had said but because he really hated having to roust the adults, and kids, who were forced to live on the streets. He pointed to the fire escape in the first alley they came to. “I’ll go up, you stay on the ground.”
The reason Darren wanted to do the roofs was because he hadn’t seen Rob recently. More often than not, at this hour of the night, he could be found crashing on one downtown rooftop or another. Since Rob was a long-time resident of the streets, with fixed habits, Darren found it worrisome that he hadn’t been around.
A while later they’d cleared most of the alleys, with a break while they dealt with a man and woman Zack came across who were selling stolen goods in the doorway of a closed shop on one of the side streets. After taking them in, they returned to finish their sweep—and their shift—still with no sign of Rob.
Then, as he went up to the roofs along the last alley, Darren spotted him. Rob was sitting with his back against a hut housing the rooftop exit from the building. One arm was in a sling, so Darren said as he approached him, “Using that scam again?”
“Don’t I wish,” Rob replied.
As he got closer, Darren saw a fading bruise on Rob’s cheek and another on his forehead. “What the hell happened,” Darren asked, squatting beside his friend.
“I ran into a trio of punks who took umbrage with my trying to make an honest dollar,” Rob replied with a brief grin. “One of them had a baseball bat. When I tried to defend myself…” He tapped the sling. “Luckily for me, a couple of your guys showed up and the punks split before they could do more than fracture a bone in my arm.”
“Damn. Why didn’t someone tell me?”
Rob shook his head. “Tell you what? That there was another attack on a homeless person. It happens all the time, as I’m sure you know.”
“Yeah.” Darren sighed. “Too often, and they usually get away with it. Is that why you haven’t been around for a while?”
“Yeah. I figured it was time to take a vacation. Found a spot on the north side but it wasn’t the same. Too many hoity-toity people who look at guys like me like we’re the scum of the earth.” Rob grinned full out now. “So here I am, again, to give you something to look forward to on your nightly rounds.”
“Good. Because I missed your smiling face,” Darren retorted. He looked Rob over—this time beyond the bruises and the sling—and shook his head. “When’s the last time you had a decent meal?”
“Hmm. The last time you took me out on a dinner date?” Rob chortled then sobered. “Pickings have been thin recently, what with all the Travelers flooding the city, thinking it’s a great place to stay for a while before moving on.”
Darren knew he meant the kids who were tagged as Urban Travelers. They called themselves ‘Gypsies’, or ‘Travelers’, and spent their time moving between cities. They were homeless and generally banded together, taking pride in their bohemian lifestyle. That didn’t stop them from intimidating the locals or tourists for their spare change—or even, on occasion, attacking them.
“Have the Travelers given you any trouble?” Darren asked.
“Naw. They leave us regulars alone, pretty much. The problem is, people don’t distinguish between them and us. So they’re afraid we might get violent, the way some of them have. It hurts our bottom line, so to speak.”
Darren nodded. “We’ve been trying to get that under control, but it’s not easy. I know for a fact they’ve upped the private security down here.”
Rob snorted. “For all that good that does us. Though, maybe, the fact they have was why those cops showed up in time to keep me from getting a real beating.”
“You’re sure it was punks, not Travelers?”
“Yeah, Darren. I do know the difference, believe it or not,” Rob replied sourly.
“I’m sure you do. Okay, back to feeding you, or as you put it,” Darren paused, one eyebrow arched in amusement, “our dinner date. Why don’t you meet me at Joe’s Diner in an hour?”
“Man, you’re on.”
* * * *
When Darren got to the diner, after stopping at home to change clothes, Rob was nowhere in sight. He decided to wait ten minutes before he’d figure Rob had changed his mind for some reason. Five minutes later, he saw him limping down the street. When Rob reached him, Darren asked with some concern, “Did those punks do more than break your arm?”
“Naw. With only one working arm, it makes the jump off the fire escape a bit trickier. I landed wrong and twisted my ankle. Before you go all ‘doctor’ on me, I’m fine. It just aches some.”
“If you’re sure…”
“Yeah, I’m sure. It’s not the first time I’ve pulled a stupid stunt like that.” Rob looked meaningfully at the entrance to the diner. “Are we going to stand out here all night chatting?”
Darren laughed, opened the door, and they went inside. Given the hour, the place was almost empty, so they were able to get a table along the side wall with no one close by. Rob hung his pack over the back of his chair and sat, while Darren took the chair across from him.
“Order whatever you want,” Darren said, picking up one of the menus.
Rob took the other one, pausing before reading it to tell the waitress, when she asked, that he’d like coffee. When she returned, pouring them both coffees, Darren ordered the meatloaf. Rob decided on a burger with everything, fries, and coleslaw.
“So how’s life been treating you?” Rob asked. “Did your son finally graduate?”
“Yep. Three weeks ago. Now I’m all by my lonesome. Not that I’m complaining, mind you. There’s something to be said for the bachelor life, like no one trying to talk to me when I’m in the middle of a good movie.”
Rob smiled wryly. “Something I haven’t had to worry about in way too long.”
Darren was tempted to tell him, again, that maybe it was time for him to get off the streets. The problem was, every time he suggested it, Rob balked, saying he didn’t have t
he skills needed to get a decent job so that he could afford to rent a place to stay. By now, Darren had come to the conclusion that Rob preferred his freedom, despite how dangerous it could be, to being tied down to a routine.
“Do you ever get in touch with your family?” Darren asked.
Rob snorted. “Nope. It’s called out of sight, out of mind, as far as they’re concerned. I stay out of sight and they don’t seem to mind.”
Darren frowned, asking something he never had before. “They’re here in town?”
“My parents and a brother are. The rest of my sibs are spread across the country.” Rob stared down at his coffee, but Darren had the feeling he wasn’t seeing it. “Ah, well,” Rob said, looking up again. “It’s been so long since I’ve seen them, they probably wouldn’t recognize me anyway.”
Darren heard pain in his voice, and touched his arm in commiseration, saying, “With a shave and a haircut I bet they would.”
“And decent clothes, and a job, and…hell. Even with all that they wouldn’t welcome me with open arms. My folks are in their sixties now. They weren’t happy with me when I was twenty. I’m sure nothing’s changed. And how the hell did we get on this subject anyway?” He clenched his hands, his expression darkening. Then, with an obvious effort, he relaxed. “So tell me about you,” he said. “All I know is you’re a career cop and have a bright kid. Well, young man, now, I guess.”
“He’s both of those,” Darren replied with a smile as the waitress appeared with their meals. He waited until she left, then continued. “I’m forty-five, making me, if I remember correctly, three years older than you. Married, divorced, and as you said, a career cop.”
“Is that what you wanted to be growing up?” Rob asked after swallowing the first bite of his hamburger.
“Yep. Well, first I wanted to be a pirate or a cowboy, like a lot of kids. Then a fireman, and finally I decided, in high school, that joining the police force was what I really wanted.” Darren took a bite of his meatloaf, washing it down with coffee. “Don’t ask why. I can’t really tell you. It just happened. Maybe too many times watching Cops.”
Rob sang, “Bad boys, watcha gonna do?” under his breath and they both laughed. Then he said, “If that’s all it takes, half the kids I grew up with would be cops, now.”
“Ain’t that the truth? All I know is, once I decided that’s what I wanted, I went for it, joined the force when I graduated college, and never looked back.”
“I wanted to be a veterinarian when I was in school,” Rob said. “That was going to be my major, when I started college. Didn’t happen though. I dropped out, joined the army, saw parts of the world I’d rather forget, and, yeah, here I am.”
Darren chuckled. “Foot loose and fancy free.”
“Yep, pretty much.”
They stopped talking after that, concentrating on eating. As they did, Darren unobtrusively studied Rob, wondering what it would take to get him off the streets. He may not believe it, but he deserves better. Not that there’s much I can do to help him if he won’t let me, except be his friend.
“That was good,” Rob said, rubbing his stomach. “More than I could eat, but what I did…Yeah, it hit the spot.”
“You want to box up the rest to take with you, as always?” Darren replied as he flagged down the waitress.
“Yep.” Rob smiled wryly. “It’s why I ordered so much…as always.”
“It has become a habit,” Darren agreed. He asked the waitress for the check, and a takeout box. She brought both, and Darren paid. Then, since Rob was somewhat handicapped because his left arm was in the sling, Darren helped him get the rest of his meal into the box. Rob carefully stowed it on top of what was in his backpack, slung the pack over his shoulder, and they left the diner.
“Thanks for dinner,” Rob said as they stood on the sidewalk. “You know I appreciate it.”
“Any time. You want me to drop you off somewhere?”
Rob shook his head, then obviously changed his mind. “Would you mind taking me to the Tenth Street Shelter? I need to shower and they have a couple of washing machines, if they’re working.”
“You got it.”
Ten minutes later, Darren parked his car in front of the shelter. “I can wait, if you want, and take you back downtown.”
“Naw. I’m good.” Rob got out, saying before he closed the door, “Thanks, again, for everything. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you soon.”
“You’re welcome. Be careful, okay? No more run-ins with punks.”
“Trust me, I’ll do my damnedest to avoid it.” Rob hesitated then added, “My friend,” as if uncertain he should say that.
“We are friends,” Darren told him. “Never doubt it.”
“Yeah, I guess we are.” Rob closed the car door and hurried to the front entrance of the shelter. When he got there, he turned to salute Darren.
Darren gave him a two-fingered salute back before driving away.
I have to come up with a plan to help him, whether he wants it or not. More than just buying him dinner now and then. But how? And why is it so important to me?
He pondered that last thought. Why him, of all the homeless I’ve had to deal with? Because we are friends? Probably. He’s a good man, I think, who’s been dealt a bad hand in life because he’s…gay? Have I been jumping to conclusions about that? Does it matter? Whether he is or isn’t, he needs learn that he does have some worth. Proving it to him will not be easy.
Chapter 3
“Hey, Dad, are you busy tonight?” Jesse asked when Darren answered his phone.
“Well, I was going to take up knitting,” Darren replied.
“Uh-huh.” Jesse laughed. “Would you like to come to dinner instead?”
“Sure. What time?”
“Say around six?”
“Great. I’ll see you then. Want me to pick up some wine?”
“No thanks. We’re good.”
Darren hung up then went back to what he was doing, which was cleaning house since it was his day off.
He wasn’t terribly surprised—annoyed, but not surprised—when he showed up at Jesse and Leah’s apartment to find Malcom had been invited, too.
“They said they’re celebrating something, which is why I’m here. But they wouldn’t say what,” Malcom told him when Darren asked.
“That’s more than Jesse told me,” Darren replied, feeling a bit hurt that Malcom was privy to information he knew nothing about.
“Dad…” Jesse said, putting his arm around Leah’s waist. “We were waiting for the right moment to tell you. Show him,” he said.
Leah held out her left hand with its engagement ring, beaming. “He asked me last night and I accepted.”
“Congratulations!” Darren hugged her, and then Jesse. “That’s wonderful and about time, too.”
Malcom tendered his congratulations as well, without the hugs.
“When’s the wedding?” Darren asked after taking the glass of wine Jesse handed him.
“We haven’t decided,” Leah replied. “Not for a while. We have to plan everything and convince my mom she doesn’t have to come up here every weekend to help, and…yeah.” She rolled her eyes. “That’ll take some doing.”
Darren laughed. He’d met her parents and knew exactly what she meant. Her mother was nothing if not a bit of a busybody when it came to her daughter. Thankfully, as Leah had put it one time, her parents lived a good hundred miles south of the city, “Or she’d be trying to run my life non-stop.”
“To the happy couple,” Malcom said, raising his wine glass. Darren echoed his words, still wondering why Malcom had really been invited. As if I don’t know.
“Darren, could you help me with something in the kitchen?” Leah asked a moment later. When they got there, she said, “It was Jesse’s idea to ask Malcom to join us.”
“I figured as much.” Darren shook his head. “He’s not giving up until he gets me happily settled with someone.”
“I know.” She smiled, patti
ng his arm. “You could do worse than Malcom. He’s a nice man.”
“Not you, too,” Darren grumbled.
She laughed. “It’s him, or a dog, and you never did follow through on that.”
“Maybe I should. A big one who’ll take up all my time when I’m at home.”
Leah leaned against the counter, looking at him. “You’re really not looking for someone to share your life, are you?”
“Nope. Or more to the point, I haven’t met anyone I want to do that with. I suppose I wouldn’t mind a roommate, or housemate I guess. But the same thing holds true. There’s no one I know who’s available.” As he said that, he wondered if it was the truth. Maybe, just maybe, it would be the answer I’ve been looking for about how to help Rob—if he’d even consider it. Something to think about, anyway. It’s not like I don’t have the room.
“What?” Leah asked.
“Oh, nothing.” He shrugged, defusing further probing by saying, “Now, what did you need my help with?”
“Umm, getting dinner on the table?”
“That works.”
They took the food into the dining room, Jesse topped off everyone’s wine glasses, and they sat down to eat. The conversation was general, with Malcom telling them about the plans he had for improvements on the apartment building and Jesse talking about how he was doing, working for his uncle’s architectural firm. When Malcom asked, Darren told a couple of stories about his job, keeping it light in deference to the fact he didn’t think any of them wanted to know the darker side of being a police officer.
After dinner, they settled in the living room with coffees in hand.
“You have a dog,” Darren said to Malcom. “Did you get him from a shelter?”
“Yes. If you’re thinking about owning one, do not buy it from a pet shop. They get them from puppy mills.” He went on a small rant about that before stopping, laughing as he said, “Sorry. That’s one of my pet peeves, no pun intended.”
Lonesome Men Page 3