"What the?" Steven looked down and found a branch that had come loose and was jabbing him painfully. He looked around and saw a lot more branches, and felt totally disconcerted. "Asherah!" he called out, trying to find her, but there was nothing but branches around him. The wind picked up as he tried to sit up and a bough slapped him in the face. He spit out leaves as he ducked down on his little bed of branches, suddenly much more alert. A gentle rain was starting to sprinkle on him and the breeze was shaking the tree around him.
"No way!" Steven exclaimed as he rolled on his back on his bed of woven tree branches, rubbing his eyes. The dream was fading fast but the gist of it remained with him. His heart ached for Asherah, even though he knew she was just in his head. He hated those dreams. They always seemed to color the rest of his day.
Reality started to filter in as his bed shifted in the wind, threatening to come unwoven. Steven sat up groggily. He was moving slower than usual and was extremely sore. Every bruise and scrape seemed to cry out for attention and he winced as he donned his backpack. He looked around the park. It was empty, probably thanks to the gentle rain. But he was getting soaked. When he was back in the forest, the rain never bothered him. But there in the city, he figured the wet dog look would probably not get him any jobs so he decided to find a dry place to collect himself and figure out his next move.
Steven balanced on a branch and extracted his staff which allowed all the smaller branches to unzip and his bed disappeared altogether. Sitting back on the branch, he took a deep breath, distracted by the dream again as the memory of Asherah washed over him. He missed her as much that day as he did two years ago and it infuriated him. Time was supposed to be the healer of all wounds, right? He was sure the dreams were the result of the stress of his situation and he was determined to fix that, soon. Once he got settled in where ever he ended up, he was going to make his own medicinal tea. All of the ingredients should be easy to find in nearby forests except one or two and Steven was sure he'd find a way to locate those. He had to if he was going to keep his grip on reality.
The bus stop provided shelter from the rain while he formulated a plan of action. Steven looked around, a little skittish from the night before, but no one else was there that morning. The steel pipe that was used to beat him was still on the ground a few feet away. Just looking at it hurt as Steven remembered the painful blows. He picked it up. It was heavy, and as he hefted it, Steven couldn't believe he wasn't injured more seriously or that he remained conscious during the whole attack. Just letting it fall on you would hurt, and the thief was putting all his strength into the blows. Shaking his head, Steven dropped the pipe into the trashcan, hoping no one else suffered from it like he did.
The memory of the assault was still vividly fresh and he crossed his arms, chilled all of a sudden. Never before had he faced anyone like that. He wasn't completely naive, given his access to the news. But to personally experience that violation brought the reality of the depravity of some people home for him. Steven couldn't imagine how anyone could live like that, so casually bringing harm to others for their own personal gain. Part of him almost felt sorry for the guy. Steven would recover, but that guy had to live with himself daily.
Steven's thoughts returned to his need to find work. He still had on his fairly nice clothes that he had worn to talk to Bret, though now they were soaked from the rain. He would need to clean up and dry off his clothes before heading out to interview for jobs. The homeless shelter looked to him like a viable option. He had no idea what to expect, though, and couldn't help being a little nervous. He looked up as a city bus slowed to a stop in front of him and he sorely wished he could run back to the forest. But he would not find his parents from there. The past seven years were a testament to that.
The bus ride was uneventful. This early in the morning it was mostly people on their way to work and everyone looked like they could really use a coffee. Steven grinned at the irony of that thought, given that there seemed to be a coffee shop on every corner in Seattle. He was surprised people didn't jitter all the way to work. He looked out, seeing one of those shops pass by. They also passed a large shopping plaza and Steven wondered if there were any herbalist shops in there that could help him with some of the harder to get ingredients of his tea. He craned his neck as they passed by, trying to scan the list of stores on its sign but didn't see anything that jumped out.
Sitting back, he frowned. He would have to go to the forest soon. Looking at the route map, he noticed a couple of areas where the bus line actually came pretty close to the fingers of forest that reached into the outlying areas of the city. As he approached his stop, he decided that he would hit up the forest right after getting a room, or bed, or whatever it was that the shelter offered. Far better that he got rid of distractions sooner than later, especially when he needed to concentrate on finding work and a new place to conduct his search from.
The shelter was an aging nondescript office building that looked like a short apartment highrise. Steven watched as the bus pulled away, then hiked up his backpack and walked into the main entrance. There was a large food serving area almost right inside the door and people were picking up sack lunches from the food bank already. He saw Brian in the group of volunteers passing out the brown paper sack lunches and waved at him. Brian waved back but kept working. Steven smiled, feeling better. It was nice to see a friendly face.
He walked over, standing out of the way, hoping to get a moment to thank Brian. The robber was in full frenzied mode and going for the kill when Brian showed up and Steven had no doubt he may have died right there in the grass without this man's intervention.
"You're looking much better, Steven," Brian said as he handed out sack lunches. All sorts of people had filed in and Steven was amazed at the diversity. Steven smiled at a few as they walked by, trying to keep from getting in their way.
"Thanks, Brian. I'd look a lot worse without you," Steven smiled. "I really appreciate your help."
"You're most certainly welcome, friend," Brian smiled kindly. Steven helped him move the empty crate out of the way and pull up a new crate full of freshly prepared meals and suddenly found himself helping hand out sack lunches as he talked to his new friend. He didn't mind, however. While he had a few bad days, it was humbling to meet people who had spent weeks, months, even years with no home and only a tenuous string of hope. He saw Brian dishing out a never ending stream of encouragement to them as they passed by, calling most by name and working to lift their spirits and was inspired how this homeless man was so dedicated to helping his peers when he himself could have used so much help too.
One of the managers of the shelter approached him, holding out a hand. "Hi there. I'm Mel."
Steven gave out another sack lunch then shook Mel's hand. "Steven." He looked around at the establishment and moved out of the way so another volunteer could get in and start handing out lunches. Brian winked at him as he looked nervously at him. Steven nodded and returned his attention to Mel. "I was hoping to sleep here for a few nights."
"If you walk this way, I'd be happy to perform your screening." Mel pointed to a desk tucked in a corner and Steven walked over there, wondering what a screening was.
"Now, I want to let you know up front that we can only house people who are eighteen and older and who have a valid picture ID," Mel said as Steven sat down.
"Why eighteen?" Steven was stunned. Not more bad news!
"We're just not licensed to serve minors. I'm really sorry." Mel looked sympathetic. He had guessed Steven's age right. "You can pick up a sack lunch, though."
Steven slumped in the chair, disappointed yet again. He had not even considered being under aged. Most of his childhood was spent as an entrepreneur under the auspices of his godparents who took care of all the taxes and paperwork. He didn't even know what a minor was until he got his drivers license and even then didn't pay much attention to the concept. After all, at the time he had everything planned out and no need to fret over those trivial detai
ls. Now those details were turning out to be not so trivial after all. "My drivers license was stolen last night anyway," he mumbled.
Sighing, he stood up and walked outside and sat on the bench beside the door under the awning and watched the traffic drive by in the rain. He desperately needed a place that he could call a base of operations, and that was proving more difficult than he expected in the city. So many people, and yet no place for him to lay his head. A pigeon landed on the bench beside him and pecked around on it. Steven looked at it and scratched it on the head. "Even you have a home." He sighed, looking out at the traffic whizzing by.
"What am I supposed to do now?" Steven was beginning to realize he had acted without thinking by leaving home. There was so much that he simply did not know. The pigeon didn't answer him, just kept pecking. "I can't go back and face Sally and Jonah now. Not after I put them through so much, and for what? To run away to Seattle to get beat up and robbed?" He put his head in his hands. "But what else can I do?"
The bird fluffed its feathers and pecked Steven's pants pocket several times. "Ow!" Steven flinched and the bird flew off. He checked his pocket for a stray berry or something and pulled out a wadded piece of paper. "Sarah!"
In all the hubbub he had forgotten about their offer of a place to sleep. Steven sat there staring at the number on the paper, hesitating. He had another option. But did he want to burden them? Do they really want him disrupting their lives? He had turned them down because he wanted to do things on his own, and now he had failed utterly and was on the verge of a long trek home to see if Sally and Jonah would take him back. Sarah and Charley were such nice people and he really didn't want to become a lead weight to them.
"Is that your parent's number?" a voice asked behind him. Brian had come outside to see if Steven was okay.
Steven jumped and looked up. He was so engrossed in his dilemma that he didn't even sense Brian walk up. He gave him a wistful smile then looked at the number again and shook his head. "Just a couple of people I met on the way here." Steven sighed, thinking of them. How could they be so kind to him when he was a nobody? He was overwhelmed by their selfless generosity and hesitated, not wanting to do anything that might ruin that.
"Hmm. Do you think they gave you that number because they didn't want you to call?" Brian grinned, holding out a cellphone. Steven stared at the phone, ever surprised by the intuitiveness of his friend. But this wasn't something he wanted to just jump into feet first. He tried to reason things out, to figure out his disinclination to call. What if they said no? What if the number was just a token gesture and they didn't mean for him to actually take them up on their offer?
"What if things keep going wrong for me and they end up hating me?" Steven looked up, really struggling for reasons to not call them but knowing that calling was probably the smartest thing to do. And yet, alienating them was the last thing he wanted and he had no idea what his future had in store for him.
"I don't know your friends, son. But if I gave you my number, it would be because I wanted to help you." He waggled the phone. "If you didn't call me, I might just take it personally." He held the phone out to Steven and waited patiently.
Steven grinned. "Well, I guess we can't have that, can we?" He took the phone, thinking he might want to get his own eventually.
He glanced back at Brian then dialed the number on the paper. His mouth went dry as he waited for the phone to connect, and it started ringing.
"Uhm, is this Sarah?" he asked. "Yeah, this is Steven..." That was about as far as he got before Sarah grilled him on his location, told him to stay right where he was and she hung up. Steven stared at the phone for a moment.
"Well?" Brian asked, leaning against the back of the bench.
"Well, I think she's coming to pick me up." Steven looked at Brian then back at the phone, a little shocked at how sudden that was. He handed it back to Brian. "Thanks!"
"Any time, Steven. Just keep pushing forward and never give up." Brian pocketed the phone then looked back. "I think they're missing me now so I need to get back to work." He held out his hand and Steven shook it enthusiastically, smiling.
"Oh, I think you could use a snack for the road too." Brian handed him a sack then walked back to the serving line without another word.
Steven held the sack and looked at all those others who were in line to get their own sack lunches. For some reason, he felt less worthy than them to have been blessed with this meal, but then he remembered Brian's little speech about phone numbers. He opened it and looked in and was shocked at what he saw. Mushrooms and dried figs. He looked up at Brian, dumbfounded. His friend winked at him then resumed handing out sack lunches.
"Oh dear, you look terrible!" Sarah fussed over Steven while driving back to their apartment. He was still wet from the rain, and covered with bruises and scrapes and he had rips in his clothing where the threads of the pipe had caught on them. He didn't even notice the rips until Sarah insisted on a cursory inspection for broken bones or bad cuts. That really bothered Steven. Most of his clothing was intended for comfort and climbing. Usually very robust. But these were purchases specifically for special occasions like church or parties. He knew Sally would be angry to see them torn like that.
"It looks worse than it is." Steven tried to mollify her, though he was still very sore, rather black and blue with lots of knots all over his head and arms, and it hurt to breathe. Okay, maybe it did look as bad as it was. Steven was so ready to curl up somewhere and just sleep it off. "Watch out!" He flinched as she swerved back in her lane, narrowly missing an oncoming truck that honked at her as they drove by.
"What happened?" She looked horrified. Sarah had trouble keeping her attention on the road as concerned as she was over Steven's predicament.
Steven hesitated. He knew the answer wouldn't help any but didn't know of any other way to put it. "I was robbed."
"Oh, dear. Did you call the police?" She was almost frantic.
Police? It didn't even occur to him. But what would they have been able to do? Steven shook his head and looked at her, wishing she would stop asking questions that would just make her more upset.
"What did he take?" Sarah looked at him and put a hand on his arm, then pulled back fast when Steven winced.
"He took my money and drivers license. And did this." Steven pointed to his bruises. He hated reliving the event again and talking about it wasn't making him feel better. The man got away with several thousand dollars of money he'd saved up for years, and effectively scuttled his search for his parents until he found some sort of income, which in turn would take up even more of his search time. Steven started feeling sick thinking about it.
"I should have made you come home with us. I so should have," she said more to herself than anyone as she hit the steering wheel with her palm and fumed.
"It wasn't your fault," Steven assured her. Why did she remind him of Sally so much? "Please, don't be upset."
She looked aside at him, wiping a tear from her cheek. Steven looked away. Why was it that women crying made him want to cry too? He rubbed his nose and watched the traffic drive by.
"Well, that's not going to happen again. Do you understand me?" Sarah said firmly. Steven looked back at her and nodded. What else could he say?
They pulled into a basement garage and got out, she went around behind the car and plugged a cable into it to charge it. Steven struggled to get up out of the car and she helped him. His legs took a very bad beating and it was getting harder to make them work. Slowly, they walked over to the elevator as she put her arm around him to steady him. It occurred to Steven that he didn't even notice the outside of the building since she drove by so fast and really didn't know where he was. But he figured he'd address that later.
Once they got to her floor, she fumbled with her keys and opened the door to their apartment and ushered Steven in. He looked around, amazed. There were paintings everywhere, stacks leaning against every wall in the apartment, paintings hanging on the walls, huge canvas
es with drop cloths under them on various easels and paint everywhere.
"You weren't kidding about painting," Steven said as he scooted past one of her stacks.
"I'm getting ready for a show, so it's a bit of a mess right now." Sarah said apologetically as she followed him with his backpack.
He noticed Charley typing on a laptop in a corner where he had a small desk. He looked around and waved.
"Whoa, what happened to you?" Charley got up quickly and came over to help Steven through the paintings.
"He got robbed. Some imbecile took all his money!" Sarah exclaimed, crying and blaming herself.
"Over here." Charley guided him to a bedroom at the back of the apartment.
Steven stumbled a little on some art supplies but caught himself. Once he was up for a while his legs didn't hurt so bad. But he knew he'd be sore later on. He felt a little shell-shocked from the abrupt change of scenery. Sarah came up behind him and put his backpack on a nightstand beside the bed. The bedroom looked like it had been recently cleaned and organized. The bed was freshly made. It was a stark contrast to the rest of the apartment, and Steven was surprised it also wasn't full of paintings. But he could smell the paint in there and guessed that they had recently moved paintings out. He looked at Sarah and Charley.
"I cleared it out for you last night. I just knew that you would call and wanted to be ready for you," Sarah said as she looked around. That would explain the piles of paintings in the living room.
"I'm so sorry. I don't want to be a bother." Steven felt bad that they had to do so much work just for him.
"Don't be silly!" Sarah said. She looked around. "This was my younger brother's room. He's gone now. So now it's yours." Sarah stood there looking into the room, crying.
"Gone?" Steven looked at her, discerning the deeper meaning of that word.
Crow - The Awakening Page 26