Hope Is Love

by Hubbard, Sylvia

  The neighborhood was semi safe and the neighbors kept the grass down on the back and the front.

  In the basement's far wall, she had built basically a fort where there were batteries stocked and some necessities where she could stay when it was really cold outside or just a place where she could camp out without getting messed with or other elements.

  Getting the side door opened, she found the stranger completely passed out on the ground. With what strength she had left, she managed to get him inside and down the stairs to the fort.

  There was a battery attached to a low voltage heater that usually could power throughout the entire night. Once he was in there, she closed the side door of the abandoned home and locked them in again.

  Soon as she returned to him, he was laid out in the middle of the fort on the ground. Kneeling down to him, she almost thought he was dead because it didn't even look as if he was breathing.

  Jona wanted this night to end and the whole thing with this stranger to go away. Why the hell hadn't she left him in the dumpster?

  Chapter 4

  Pressing her fingers to his neck, she had to hold her own breath to really listen and feel a pulse under her finger on his neck.

  He cannot die! Not here and not right now.

  After a moment, she felt a rhythm under her fingertips and she sighed in relief. The thump was very faint.

  Her stomach cringed but it wasn’t because of her panic of seeing him laying down. She knew the cramps would be with her for a while. They warned her, but these were exhaustive cramps and she wished they would just go away.

  Suddenly, his eyes open and seeing him in good light was even more breathtaking. Those eyes seem to swirl making her feel warm all over, and forget her present discomfort.

  "Are we home yet?" he asked.

  She only shook her head. Her stomach cramped up again, but she had to be tough and not dwell on her own pain. He served as a good distraction.

  He reached up and cupped her face. "What's your name?"

  "Everyone calls me Jona.” To test his memory, she asked. “What's yours?"

  He had that confusing frown on his face again and then shook his head. "I really don't remember anything. Not with this bad headache. Can you help me? Can you make it better?"

  Leaning over his face, she unwrapped the shirt she had used on his wound. Suddenly, he reached up and cupped her face to press his lips against hers. Though they looked thin and cold, she was able to feel softness and warmth, but not just from his lips. She felt heat far below in her gut in places she had not ever felt before. The kiss was over before she could show her reproach for his actions.

  Jona was caught completely off guard. The kiss felt as if happening in slow motion, yet the motion was too fast – over before she could truly analyze what had taken place or what she had truly felt.

  "Thank you, Jona, my friend," he whispered before his eyes closed and his hands fell away.

  This time he really looked dead, but one more check of his pulse assured her that he was just faintly hanging on.

  Getting the bloodied shirt off of his head, she saw the wound was semi clotted. Getting the first aid kit, she found bandages and cleaning solution. After wiping her hands down with alcohol swabs, she cleaned the wound quickly and then wrapped up his head again. She even took the time to push away his hair out of his wounds before wrapping a clean t-shirt around his head again. Once she was assured the wound wasn’t trying to bleed out again, she checked his feet. Pulling off the shoes and socks completely, she was surprise at how good his feet had taken the cold, but also how well manicured his toes were. Clearly this was a kept man who took good care of his body.

  Her fingers and palms touched all the way from the back of his ankles to the tips of his toes several times to assure herself there were no severe cold spots and also to warm them up a little. Looking up at his face, she caught a smile on his lips and she shook her head, but also noticed how his smile made her heart double beat.

  With a large storage of good socks, she put two fresh pairs on his feet to keep them warm and another pair with the rubber soles on the bottom.

  Just because she had the heater on, didn’t stop the drafts that sometimes swept through the basement depending upon the weather outside. Tonight Jona knew the elements were going to be wicked and she didn’t want to take any chances.

  Another cramp hit her stomach just as she was standing away from him and she took a moment to hold her gut, doubling over and breathing through the pain. Once the cramp alleviated, she stood fully and decided to make herself comfortable. Leaving the fort, she took off her coat and left it over some junk. Since the smell was so bad from the coat, she often left it away from where she slept because sometimes even she became tired of the odor. Yet, for the past couple of months, the coat had protected her from the evils of men who choose to hurt women like her. Pushing thoughts of hurt from her, she took her boots off back inside the fort, where it was starting to get warm.

  The stranger was still where he had fallen and her back hurt too much to move him. Getting a bottle of water from the bottom of the bag, she knelt again at the stranger and pressed the open bottle to his lips. He drunk hungrily until the water was almost all gone.

  He hadn’t opened his eyes this time, but smacked his lips content. She decided he would be fine at least until she could get her own water and then something to eat. He had been enough distraction for her to forget she had been hungry too.

  Using a hot plate connected to another battery, she warmed up water to heat the soup and hot chocolate. There were sandwiches in the bag from the church and she hungrily ate one, but forced herself not to eat the other one. Once he awoke he needed food to save his strength. The food hopefully would help keep the infection away, because if he became sicker, she wouldn't know what to do with tomorrow being the holiday.

  You might have to use that money you just got.

  No, she didn't want to do that. It was the first time she had something on her that she could really save up. Maybe use it to get a hotel room, with a hot shower. That could be her Christmas gift, after she dumped the stranger off somewhere safely.

  His groan interrupted her thoughts just as she finished eating. Smacking his lips just a little reminded her he had been thirsty earlier.

  Jona found another bottle of water in the bag from the church and moved over to him. Carefully lifting his head by his neck, she put the tip of the bottle on his dry lips. Soon as the moisture touch his skin, she watched as his instincts took over and began to drink the water hungrily again as if he had not had any beforehand.

  Would he try to kiss her again?

  You will stop him the next time. You shouldn't want something like that. Not from this man.

  Why did she wish she was the bottle and she could kiss him again?

  Stop that, Jona! Stop being fanciful. He didn't know what he was doing.

  Closing her eyes to focus her thoughts back to where they needed to be, she let him finish the whole bottle and even gave him some pain medicine from the first aid kit before she put his head down.

  There was an extra pain pill, but she didn’t take one for herself despite what was going on in her gut. He may need another one later. They were a “we” for the time being and she had to think about that consciously all the time now.

  She then took the blanket and covered him. Moving to the other side of the fort, she laid down on the pallet she had with another blanket she already had. Before getting comfortable, she set the soup and hot chocolate out just in case he woke up hungry for something while she was asleep.

  * * *

  He wasn’t sure how long he had been out and his head hurt like a son of a bitch. On top of that when he opened his eyes, he was looking at the most beautiful lips on a woman ever.

  Oddly, they were on a black woman. That fact took him aback, but he couldn’t understand why he was surprised to see a nice looking black woman lying next to him. On top of that, he had this deep seated feeling he
had fucked up again.

  How had he fucked up? He wasn't sure, because he couldn’t remember how he'd fucked up the first time. He just knew he'd done something wrong.

  Sitting up partially to look down at the woman lying with him, he frowned deeply because he didn't know who she was, nor did he even know what he had done wrong in order to make himself feel that he'd had done something wrong.

  Instead of being interested in his surroundings, he was more interested in the woman close to him.

  Her oval shaped perfect face was flawless with a strong nose and stubborn chin. She had a natural slightly thick poutiness to her lips and long brown eye lashes. He knew her natural hair color most likely had to have highlights in them from the coloring in her lashes. Yet she was wearing a thick black hat over her head, which was pulled down tightly to her ears. Her clothes were thick and worn and he leaned down to see how she smelled for some odd reason. Surprisingly she was clean. He could smell a hard soap, but no bad odor permeated from her like he thought he would smell.

  Who the hell was she? Where the hell was he? And-

  She stretched and yawned. He watched as her eyes slowly opened and she looked a little out of it as she looked up at him, but then a certain recognition came to her and he looked relieved. "I guess you're feeling better since you crawled over to lay here with me."

  "Who are you?" he questioned imperiously.

  She sat up frowning. "I should be asking the same from you first. Do you know the trouble you've caused me?" She winced and grabbed her stomach and back at the same time.

  He looked thoroughly confused. "What do you mean?"

  Just as she was about to speak, it looked as if something had stabbed her in the back. She sucked air between her teeth as she gripped her back. "You’re heavy like an ox, you bleed like a stuck pig and you eat like a damn gas guzzling SUV. I’ve lost time, clothes and money because of you."

  It didn't look as if she was going to answer his initial question, so irritated he decided to ask another question. "Who am I?"

  She shrilled and jumped up. "You don't know that?"

  "I wouldn't have asked-"

  She shrilled again. This time there was a higher pitch in her voice, "Do you know what I had to do? Do you know what I’ve just put up with?"

  "Would that be the reason your back hurt?"

  She stomped out the lighted area they were in.

  He surveyed his surroundings. In the corner was a stack of vehicular batteries, from cars, trucks and he even recognized a lawnmower battery. There was a cord running from two of them with some very dangerous wiring to keep a heater on and there was another battery being used for light and connecting a hot plate.

  They were both laying on the ground above wooden pallets with three king size comforters thrown over them with a blanket on top of him. There were boxes around with pots and then other boxes with miscellaneous junk. He was very aware of the items and knew what they were called, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember his name or anything else personal about himself and damn if his head was starting to hurt real badly.

  He touched the side of his head where his head hurt the worse. Cursing from the pain he had initiated, he looked around for a mirror. There was a broken one hanging on a wall and he went over to it. There was a shirt wrapped around his head and he inspected the side of his head where the pain was throbbing from. Someone had bandaged his head tightly, but there was blood soaking the bandages on the left side of his head.

  Panicking, he started to unwrapped his head quickly and gasped at the huge gash on the side of his head.

  "Stop!" she shouted running over to him and slapping his hand away. She had to stand on her tiptoes and then had difficulty wrapping his head.

  Even though he was tired of her screaming, he did like the fact that she started to affectionately tend to him. "Would you like for me to sit down?" he questioned.

  "Ya think?" she sneered, wincing as her arms were getting tired from reaching up.

  He lowered to his knees in front of her and asked, "What happened to my head?"

  "A bullet said hello," she answered sarcastically. "One moment you were sitting in a car, the next you were being shot, and thrown in a dumpster."

  "Who did this?"

  "I don't know." She was highly agitated by the sound of her voice. "I just know what I just told you. I was behind the dumpster when you got shot and I didn't see anyone. All I know is you were with a lady and you were talking about some pickup and meet up with someone else. And then a car pulled up. No, it was a van from the sound of the engine and someone got out. They knocked on your driver's window, where you were sitting. You seemed surprised they were there meeting you and then the gun went off before you got your whole sentence out. I didn’t see anything because I didn’t come from my warm hiding place."

  She started to move away, but he grabbed her arm to hold her there in front of him. He came only to her mid-waist and he knew with ever fiber of his being he would never be like this in front of a woman, but that didn't make him move out of this position.

  "I don't remember anything you told me. I don’t even know my name. I need help."

  "We can go into the police in the morning," she said calmly. "Don't be scared. They'll help you figure all this out."

  "Thank you."

  She walked away and he watched as she started warming up some water.

  "Where are we?"

  "In an abandoned home on the Westside of Detroit," she answered.

  "Why are we here? Why couldn't we go to your home?"

  "This is my home"

  He looked shocked. "You live in a shack?"

  "Actually this is a house. I've taken over an abandoned house and made my own house in the basement so as not to attract any attention."

  "But why? Can't you get a house?"

  "Ah no, I was too busy standing in the government cheese line and forgot to get into the free house line," she said.

  Her sarcasm was refreshing. "You aren't very funny."

  "I wasn't trying to be.” She looked around nervously. "There's the can if you need to go. I’ll be right back. Don't go out of this part, it's freezing as hell and you don’t have enough clothes on. We can’t have you getting sick up in here, because you’ll make me sick." She walked out of the makeshift fort to give him a moment of privacy.

  Chapter 5

  A can! A literal coffee can was her bathroom! He looked at the can in disgust, but he really didn't have to go. The idea of peeing in a can seemed beneath him and even if he had to go really bad, he knew he couldn’t go.

  Just as she told him the fort was made up of paneling and on the outside, someone had stapled insulation to keep the heat inside. He'd say the space was basically about seven feet wide by twelve feet in length, with a little over six foot high ceiling that he found himself having to duck slightly. He peaked out the curtains covering the door and felt the cold air close in on him. Stepping away from the doorway remembering her stern warning, he decided to listen to her advice because he didn't have a coat or even shoes on. Looking around he saw a paper bag and looked inside. There was a coat and some other items inside.

  She walked back in and he guiltily moved away from the bag.

  "It's yours," she said. "It’s not like you're stealing from me.” He saw her have her own guilty look in her eyes. “The church gave it to me, but that was all they could help me with."

  “If I wanted to leave right now, can I?"

  "You could. I'm not holding you hostage, but I should probably use the last of the bandages and give you some clothes to stay warm. They said it might be a storm."

  "I should go now." He didn’t want to be there anymore. This place was filthy and despite her having nice lips and a cute face, this wasn’t home and he just wanted to be somewhere familiar.

  She rolled her eyes and walked over to an old dresser. After pulling out a t-shirt, pants, long johns and two pairs of socks, she brought them back over to him."You need to change your clot
hes and clean up."

  "Where is the bathroom?" he asked looking around.

  With slight frustration and noticing the can was empty, she snarled, "There isn’t one. There's a drain out there, but no running water. I use reserves for cleaning." She pulled out two containers from a box behind the heater. "They aren't cold, and there's some soap."

  He looked in disdain at the clothes, the water and then at her. The fact that she wanted him to do something so barbaric seemed way out of normal for him. None of this felt right. "I definitely didn't come from this, did I?"

  "I don't know."

  "And you did?"

  "All my life."

  "Why?"

  "Why? Because I was born in the streets and I've lived on them all my life. Unless I plan on turning tricks or finding a sugar daddy, I don't think anyone’s going to give me a job."

  "All you need is a high school diploma."

  Without revealing she had one, she said, "And for that, you need a permanent address. I wasn’t going to be mistreated by a foster family in order to get that."

  “Didn’t your parents care you weren’t getting an education?”

  She looked at him as if he had lost his mind. “What rock did you crawl out from? My parents? My mother died when she had pneumonia and in her delirium ran out in the street and was hit by an unknown driver who just kept going. This happened when I was three and my father, after he tried to trick me out a couple of times, was taken away to prison for trying to steal a can of fruit cocktail from the convenience store. He died in prison from complications out on the street.”

  "That's sad and very pathetic," he said.

  "Don’t fucking pity me,” she growled. “I do what I have to do to survive. And for your information, I have my GED, but without an address I can’t get a job and without any money I can’t afford an address.”

  “That’s like a Catch 22.”

  “A what?” she asked confused.

  “A Catch 22,” he said as if that was obvious.