“Beggin’? Nah, I don’t wanna do that.”
Erikson’s eyebrows crinkled as he stared into Tony’s eyes. “Oh yeah? Ya got a better idea?”
Tony thought about it for a moment. “Nah, I guess not.”
“Are ya hungry?”
“Yeah,” Tony said with a heavy sigh.
“If ya wanna eat, then we gotta make money. Remember, I’m the fella that’s gotta sleep wit’ cha in the apartment of death.”
“I know. Thanks again for doin’ that.”
“Sure. Ain’t no big deal, kid. But from here on out, you gotta take care of me just like I took care of you. It’s only fair. Don’t cha agree?”
Tony appreciated Erikson’s offer, but he couldn’t stop thinking about how easily Officer Zody had lured him into his sick sex trap. His muscles tightened, and his jawline was prominent. Erikson noticed the visible change in Tony. He suspected there was more to the kid than he let on. He also knew that Tony was much stronger than the boy gave himself credit for.
Erikson cleared his throat. “I don’t know what cha think I’m talkin’ about, but I’m talkin’ about sharing our stuff. Ya know, like our money, food, blankets, and shit like that.”
Tony relaxed and nodded. “I can do that. I mean, we can do that. All right, teach me how to beg.”
Chapter Forty
When they got to Center City, Tony sat on the sidewalk with his hands cupped. He looked up at people with puppy dog eyes just the way Erikson had taught him.
“Excuse me, Miss, I’m real hungry,” Tony recited.
He recited the words, alternating Miss and Mister. Most people sped up their pace or moved closer to the street as they approached just to avoid him. It seemed as though thousands of people walked by him that morning, but only six people threw change into his cupped hands. After a couple of hours, Tony walked down the block to where Erikson was waiting for him.
“How did ya do?”
“I made three dollars and fifteen cents,” Tony said miserably. “Beggin’ is bullshit work, and I ain’t doin’ that no more. People make ya feel like dog shit, pretendin’ they can’t hear ya and actin’ like I got cooties or somethin’.”
Erikson patted Tony on the back. “Yeah, I hear ya. But hey, ya made us a little money. Let’s go get somethin’ to eat.”
When Tony and Erikson walked into a small donut shop, the owner looked up at them. “Can I help you?” he asked quickly.
“We’re lookin’ to buy some donuts. Which are your cheapest ones?” Erikson said.
“They’re all the same price. A buck and a quarter a donut or three for three dollars.”
“Can ya give us a better deal?” Tony asked.
“What? Do you think you’re at a flea market where you can bargain?”
Tony’s shame washed over him. “Come on, Erikson—let’s just leave.”
The store owner zeroed in on Tony. The boy was dirty and disheveled. He’d seen kids like Tony many times before, but the kid’s warm green eyes gave him a stab of sympathy.
“Here’s what I can do. I’ll give you three donuts at half price, a buck fifty.”
“See! Now that’s what I’m talkin’ ’bout,” Erikson exclaimed. “God bless you, sir, and thank you.”
As Tony and Erikson walked toward the park, they ate their donuts as the older man explained life on the streets.
“Erikson, like I said before, I ain’t gonna be livin’ like this for a long time. I’m gonna find a place to work and get my own place.”
“Oh yeah? Who the hell ya think is gonna rent a place to an almost-fourteen-year-old?”
“I don’t know, but somebody will. I ain’t got it all figured out yet,” Tony said adamantly.
“Whatever you say, kid. So where ya gonna get a job?”
“Why ya always askin’ me so many questions? It ain’t like ya got your life all figured out, or ya wouldn’t be livin’ in an abandoned building,” Tony snapped.
Erikson smoothed down the hair on his overgrown beard. “You’re right. I ain’t nobody to judge. I think it’s good that ya want somethin’ better for yourself. There ain’t nothin’ wrong wit’ havin’ dreams.”
Erikson stopped walking and grabbed Tony by the arm.
“What?” Tony said.
“If you’re gonna dream big, then I gotta give ya one piece of good advice. Don’t cha ever take any drugs, ’cause once ya start, ya won’t be able to stop. Ya see what I’m sayin’?”
“Is that what Sadie was sayin’ this mornin’ when she asked if ya were high again?”
Erikson nodded. “Started smokin’ crack ’bout seven years ago. I was able to keep my job, hidin’ it for a while, but after a year, I couldn’t keep it together no more. Nothin’ is more important than gettin’ high. Ya need to remember that, ’cause once that monster gets ya, there ain’t no gettin’ away from it.”
“How do ya buy drugs if ya ain’t got no money?”
“I do stuff for people. Before I got hooked, I was a carpenter, a really good one. Even now, I work for people and make a little money sometimes. When shit breaks at my dealer’s house, I fix it, and he gives me drugs in exchange for my work. Sometimes I gotta steal dope or steal from stores, like a sweater or some jewelry or somethin’, and one of my dealers will exchange for dope. It all depends, but trust me, when ya gotta get high, there’s always a way. So promise ya won’t do drugs, not even if someone tries to give ’em to ya for free. That’s how they get ya hooked, see? So promise me.”
“Ya ain’t gotta worry about me doin’ drugs, Erikson. I’ve spent my whole life feelin’ like I ain’t never had control of nothin’. I don’t wanna take anythin’ that’s gonna make me feel like I lost the little control I got.”
“Promise!”
“Yeah, sure, I promise. You ain’t gotta be so pushy all the time, old man,” Tony said and poked Erikson in his chest. “How old are ya, anyway?”
“Thirty-three,” he said sadly. “Ya have a good head on your shoulders. You’re right in thinkin’ ’bout gettin’ a job—maybe ya can make somethin’ of yourself. When ya do, just don’t forget your friend Erikson.”
“Nah, I don’t forget nobody that helps me. I don’t forget nobody that hurts me neither.”
When the two arrived at the park, Erikson sat on a small plot of grass, and Tony sat next to him. It wasn’t long before some of Erikson’s dealer friends approached. Several tried to give Tony a free hit of crack, but he turned them down flat. Meanwhile, Erikson had negotiated two bags of crack in exchange for repairing a door in the home of a dealer.
Erikson went over to where Tony was sitting on a bench and sat down next to him. “I gotta go. I have some work to do at a dealer’s house. Let’s go.”
“Wait. I don’t wanna go to no dealer’s house.”
“Ya ain’t goin’ there, ya dipshit. We’re goin’ back to the apartment where I stash my tools.”
“Oh. Are ya gonna get drugs?”
Erikson nodded guiltily. “Don’t worry. I’ll try and get us some money to buy a little food.”
When they arrived back at their apartment, it was almost dinnertime. Tony helped Erikson move his tools and meager belongings up to 3F.
“Ya still got some food left, right?”
Tony looked in the bag of rotting fruit. “Yeah, I got enough for now.”
“All right, then I’ll see ya later.”
“When will ya be back?” Tony asked.
“Later, kid. I don’t know what time, but I’ll be back.”
When Erikson left, Tony sat on the floor of what was once the small living room. He rifled through his bags of clothes and layered on shirts to keep him warm from the cold October evening. Then he arranged his two plastic bags so he could sleep on top of them. As he laid his head down, the rustling of the bags alerted his senses. He stared above the kitchen sink and imagined the fingers hanging in a bag. He cringed as warm, intense tingling prickly heat covered his arms and chest. Fearful again, he rolled over on his sid
e to face the wall, hoping that Erikson would come back soon.
Chapter Forty-One
The next morning when Tony woke up, Erikson was snuggled up next to him. Tony pushed Erikson away from him with a fury.
“Get the fuck off me,” Tony screamed.
Erikson sat up slowly. “What’s your problem?”
“I don’t want ya layin’ all over me,” Tony stated.
“Ya know, Tony, not everybody wants to hurt cha. I was sleepin’ close so we could make body heat to keep us warm. I ain’t like that. Ya musta had some real asshole do some fucked-up shit to ya. Am I right?”
Tony stood and walked over to the other side of the room. He sat back down, leaning against the wall. “Yeah, I had…I had some guys do things to me.”
“Your dad?”
“No, he’s just a violent prick. I was sent to juvie for a while for somethin’ I didn’t do.”
“The older boys do somethin’ to ya there?”
“No.” Tony paused, not sure if telling Erikson would make him more vulnerable. “Some of the guards did things.”
Erikson got up and sat next to Tony. “They touch ya where they shouldn’t have?”
Tony nodded. Tears fell from his eyes, and his chest heaved. Erikson put his arm over his shoulder.
“It’s all right, Tony. Ya wanna talk about it?”
Tony shook his head but told Erikson the whole story anyway. When he was finished, the older man slumped against the wall. Living on the streets for so many years, Erikson had seen a lot of things, mostly girls being taken advantage of, but he wasn’t prepared for the extent of abuse that Tony had described. He took a moment to collect his thoughts as Tony sat there regretting he’d told the story.
“Here’s the deal, Tony. In life we gotta go through bad stuff. Ya can’t let those bad things make ya who ya are. When ya get into trouble, the kinda trouble you’ve been in, then ya gotta learn somethin’ from it. I ain’t known ya for too long, but I already know that you’re gonna be somethin’ special when ya grow up. Now, wit’ all that ya been through, ya gotta take that pain and turn it into somethin’ bigger than ya. Someday, ya might find that someone else needs your help, and you’re gonna help ’im ’cause ya know what it’s like to be in pain.”
“I hope you’re right. ’Cause I don’t feel like I can do nothin’ right. When I was a kid, I was picked on all the time by kids in school and my father at home. I always thought I was bein’ hurt real bad, but those guards taught me what pain is really about. I ain’t talkin’ ’bout the kinda pain that makes your skin hurt; I’m talkin’ ’bout the kinda pain that sinks way down into your bones and becomes a part of ya. No matter how much ya try to get better, it stays inside ya and tears ya up. It makes your heart hurt, and sometimes I just wanna die.”
“Die? No, kid. That ain’t somethin’ ya die over. Gettin’ abused like ya did gives ya courage to move forward. We’re all afraid of movin’ forward ’cause we don’t know what the future will bring. It ain’t about layin’ down and dyin’, though. If ya did that, then those rotten pricks who assaulted ya would win. You’re a winner, and ain’t nobody, nowhere that can tell ya different. I feel like a weak boy next to ya. I had bad things happen to me, but I brought them on myself when I got hooked on dope. You, on the other hand, ya never asked for any of it, but ya never let it stop ya. I got high hopes for ya, Tony. I know you’re gonna find your way to everything ya want in life, no matter what it is.”
Tony rested his head on Erikson’s shoulder. “Thanks, man. I appreciate ya listenin’.”
Erikson rested his head on Tony’s. “So, what’s your plan for today?”
“I’m gonna go out and find a way to make money.”
“If ya say so, then I believe ya will,” Erikson said, rubbing his hand over Tony’s greasy hair. “Ya might wanna see if ya can find a shower. You’re a dirtball.”
Tony laughed. “Yeah, I get it from you.”
Erikson looked at his own hands. His fingernails were packed with filth, and the backs of his hands were covered with days of dirt.
Tony got to his feet. “I’ll catch ya later.”
“Sure. Be safe kid.”
As Tony left the building, he felt a renewed sense of hope. It was the first time he’d talked to an adult that cared about what had happened to him in the juvenile detention center. Erikson’s reaction had replaced his feeling of weakness with a feeling of strength.
Chapter Forty-Two
Tony walked toward the Italian Market. His right hand was in his pocket, and he wrapped his fingers around the money that his mother had given to him. He hadn’t told Erikson about the six dollars he still had left, and a pang of guilt struck him.
Tony made his way to the bakery, and when he stepped inside, the warmth of the heat soothed his skin.
Donata looked up from behind the counter. “Well, look who it is.”
“Hi, Donata,” Tony said, excited that she was happy to see him again.
Ruth, who had been bent over filling the bottom of the display case, stood and peeked over the counter. “Tony! Hi, Tony. Me and my grandma tried a new cookie recipe this morning. You wanna taste one?”
“Sure I do, Ruth.” Tony took the cookie and bit into its sweet substance, which dissolved over his tongue, making his taste buds dance. “Ummmm, this is delicious. Best cookie I ever had.”
Ruth giggled. “Yeah, I said the same thing. Right, Grandma?”
Donata gave the young girl a loving smile.
“Anyway,” Ruth said, “Are you here to buy something?”
“You bet. What cha got?”
Ruth pointed to the display case. The pastries all seemed too rich for Tony’s pocket, but he listened intently as she described what things were and what they were made of.
“How come ya ain’t in school, Ruth?”
“After the accident, when I moved in with my grandma, she decided to homeschool me.”
Tony looked over at Donata.
“Kids can be cruel,” Donata said.
“Yeah, don’t I know it.”
Donata moved closer to Tony. “Why aren’t you in school?”
Tony smiled. “I get homeschooled too.”
“I bet ya do,” Donata said. “Let’s see what we can get for ya.”
Donata took two cupcakes and three cookies from the display case. Then she came out from behind the counter and grabbed a loaf of olive bread. “These should hold ya…and your uncle for a couple of days.”
“How much?”
Donata pretended to add the items up in her head. “A dollar.”
“Wow. That’s a great deal.” A second later Tony realized that all those things couldn’t cost just one dollar, and his embarrassment silenced him for a moment.
“Ya know, I could do work for ya, if ya want. I can stand out here and sell stuff for ya.”
Donata gave Tony an intense stare.
Tony gulped. “Never mind. I was just asking; ain’t no big deal.”
“No, no, I was thinkin’. Ya can’t be out here ’cause ya don’t know how things work. But I could use help in the kitchen, cleanin’ up. Two hours a day. I can pay ya a dollar an hour,” Donata offered.
The old woman was making enough money to take care of her granddaughter. She decided that ten dollars a week wouldn’t bankrupt her. Besides, Donata suspected that Tony had nowhere to live and that he was lying about his uncle. She liked that the boy was humble and willing to work.
Tony hadn’t answered Donata. He was still stunned that she’d offered him a job.
Donata put her hands on her hips. She took Tony’s silence as negotiation. “OK, fine. I’ll pay you, and give ya some pastries or bread.”
“Wow, Donata. Thank you. That’d be great. When can I start?”
“How about now? I have a ton of dirty pans back there.”
Ruth took Tony into the back of the bakery and showed him around. She gave him an apron and filled the deep sink with warm, soapy water. “Make sure the water is a
lways real warm. If Grandma catches you washing with cold water, she’ll get real mad.”
“I got it, Ruth.”
Alone in the kitchen, Tony got busy washing the pans. When he was finished two hours later, he went to the front of the store.
“All done, Donata. I’ll see ya tomorra.”
“Wait. Don’t ya wanna get paid?”
Tony laughed. “Oh yeah. I guess I’m so happy to have a job that I forgot.”
Donata handed Tony two dollars and a bag of baked goods. Tony turned to leave, but stopped short. “I owe ya a dollar for all this.”
“Nope. We’re even for today. I’ll see ya tomorra.”
Chapter Forty-Three
When Tony walked into the apartment, he found Erikson still sleeping, but the squeaky floorboards woke him. Erikson sat up, still in a slumber. He rubbed his eyes, hacked up phlegm, and spat it onto the floor.
“Ya look like shit,” Tony said.
“Ya smell like shit,” Erikson said and lay back down.
“Come on. Get up. I got us some food.”
Tony opened the bag of baked goods and waved them under Erikson’s nose.
“Goddamn, that shit smells good.”
“It is good—in fact, it’s great. Get up. Let’s eat.”
Erikson struggled into a sitting position, and Tony handed him a cupcake. He took a big bite.
“Druggies love sugar. Did ya know that?”
“Everybody loves sugar,” Tony said with a mouthful of cupcake.
“Yeah, but we crave it like we crave dope.”
“Why do ya keep doin’ drugs?”
“Gives me great internal pleasure,” Erikson stated.
“Whatever that means.”
“You’re right. I don’t know why I said that; it was stupid. I do drugs because they’re addicting. Once ya get high smokin’ crack, ya can’t get enough of it. You’re always chasing that very first high. The first time is the best, but ya can’t ever get it back again. It’s like havin’ sex wit’ a woman for the first time.”
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