Under the Viaduct

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Under the Viaduct Page 2

by H. L. Anderson


  The clock on her dashboard read 1:25. Holy crap! She’d been there for a couple of hours. Touching the sticky mess at the back of her head, she groaned and remembered Blayne saying she’d need some stitches. She weighed the consequences of just going back to her apartment and dealing with the cut the next day or going to the ER to get it taken care of tonight. She thought about the filthy ground she’d bounced her head off of and her mind instantly turned to what possible substances could be found there. “Ugh. ER it is,” she said. “I probably need a tetanus shot, anyway.”

  It was after four in the morning when Kaylee trudged up the stairs to the second-floor apartment she shared with Allie, the first friend she’d made Freshman year. Her greatest desire at that moment was to go flop into bed and sleep for about twelve hours straight, but the cute doctor that stitched her up had repeated several times that she needed to take a shower immediately when she got home. And then keep her wound mostly dry for the next seven days until she had the sutures removed. Thankfully she didn’t have to work as a TA or go to class that morning.

  After the shower, she stood in front of the small circle she’d wiped clear on the steam-covered mirror, brush in hand. She’d detangled most of her hair—all but the area around the goose-egg and sutures. She gently put the brush to the matted tangles and winced as soon as it tugged. “Gah!” She threw the brush onto the countertop. “Not happening today. Maybe I’ll just get my hair all chopped off,” she whispered.

  She opened the door to her bedroom. She slipped inside and felt her way to the raised twin bed on her side of the shared room, hoping Allie was sound asleep. Kaylee fumbled with the mess of sheets and blankets piled on her mattress. Maybe she should start making her bed once in a while. She crawled onto the bed, laying on her side so as not to put pressure on her aching head, and pulled a corner of her blanket over her.

  Mission accomplished, no movement from Allie’s side of the room. Kaylee sighed and closed her eyes.

  “Don’t think we aren’t going to talk about where you’ve been,” Allie mumbled. “It can wait till sometime after the sun comes up, though.” Covers ruffled as she turned over.

  Why did she have to get stuck with a light-sleeper as a roommate and best friend? The fact that she was deaf didn’t seem to make her any heavier of a sleeper. Kaylee swore she could feel the vibrations in the room like a spider can feel its web jerking when prey flies into it. She smiled and kicked her blankets into a better position. It wasn’t like she didn’t plan on telling Allie everything, anyway.

  “So, let me get this straight.” Allie stopped tugging at the knots in Kaylee’s hair so she could step in front of her and glare into her bloodshot eyes. “You went down there, at night, all by yourself?”

  “Well, yeah, but I was just observing. I didn’t think…” Maybe if I mumble she won’t be able to read my lips, Kaylee thought with a grimace.

  “Exactly. You didn’t think.” Allie put a hand on her hip and pointed the hairbrush at Kaylee’s face. “Do you think your professors would approve of your dangerous methods?”

  “Maybe they’ll give me extra credit for going above and beyond.” Her friend didn’t smile at her attempt to lighten the mood.

  “And, if I’d known that you had a head injury, I wouldn’t have let you sleep so long. Why didn’t you tell me about this when you first got home?”

  Kaylee shrugged. “I didn’t want to wake you up or keep you awake. I know how much you hate early mornings. Plus, I just wanted to sleep.” Although, as exhausted as she’d been, it had taken her at least an hour to fall asleep, her brain refusing to let go of the evening’s events.

  “Well, hopefully you learned your lesson. No more traipsing around downtown by yourself.” She moved back behind Kaylee to continue with the painful process of untangling her hair. “Maybe you should consider changing your thesis to something a little less life-threatening.”

  “Are you crazy?” Kaylee’s eyes met her friend’s in the mirror. “I finally found her! There’s no way I’m backing out of this now.”

  “You have no way of knowing where she’ll be when we get back from Christmas break. You’ll have to start the hunt all over again.” She laid the brush on the kitchen table next to the propped-up mirror. “I got most of them. You’ll just have to get to the rest after the stitches are out.”

  Christmas break. That would be a problem. Finals started on Monday, tomorrow, and then school would be out for weeks. Her parents expected her to come home during those weeks between semesters. “Thanks.” Kaylee absently ran her hand down the hair at the back of her head. “Maybe I’ll just stay here for the break.”

  “Oh, your parents would love that.” Allie’s voice overflowed with sarcasm.

  “No, I’m serious.” Kaylee leaned toward her friend. “You and Max will be here most of that time, right? Because Max has rotations he has to complete?”

  Allie narrowed her eyes and answered with a drawn out, “Yeah. Why?”

  “You’ll be able to keep an eye on me.” Kaylee smiled. “Make sure I don’t do something else stupid.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Sheesh. Do you remember when I was the one who needed to be babysat?” Her sophomore year had been a rough one. Too many alcohol-fueled frat parties. Kaylee hadn’t dared let her out of her sight.

  Kaylee nodded. “I’m so glad you grew out of that rebellious stage.”

  “I blame Max. He’s such a good influence.” She slumped into a chair and looked down at the table. “Seriously, I wouldn’t be graduating from nursing school in May if it wasn’t for him, and for you.”

  Kaylee patted her friend’s hand, waiting for her to look up. “You would have pulled out of it, eventually. Now, how do I tell my parents I won’t be coming home for Christmas?”

  Allie raised an eyebrow. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”

  Nodding, Kaylee answered, “I am. After meeting Mama C last night, I think I’d want to find out more about her even if my thesis didn’t depend on it. There’s something very different with her and her little gang.”

  Her parents had taken the news about as well as she’d expected. Kaylee stared at the follow-up text her mom had sent after the tearful phone call.

  I’m sorry I got upset. You do what you need to do for school. We’ll see you over spring break. I’m so proud of you. Love you. ~Mom

  Kaylee smiled at the last part. No matter how many times she told her mom she didn’t need to sign her texts, she still did. Just like the little notes she used to leave her. She typed out a quick response before heading off to take her first final.

  It’s okay. Spring break for sure. Love you too.

  The crumbs from her toast would have to wait until she got back to be cleaned up. She shoved the last piece in her mouth and wiped her hands on her jeans before grabbing her coat and backpack.

  Her test didn’t go as well as it should have. She had a hard time concentrating. The ER doctor had told her that might happen because of the concussion. But besides being a little foggy, her mind kept wandering to Mama C. And Blayne. And the others whose names she didn’t know or couldn’t remember.

  She signed off the computer at the testing center, gathered her belongings from the bored-looking proctor there to keep students from cheating, and started the long trek back to her car. I should go home and finish grading the Psych 1100 papers. She looked up at the clear sky, the sun just past its peak. It would be hours before it started to get dark. My thesis is more important than getting those papers back quickly. I should go talk to Mama C while she’s still where I can find her. Hopefully.

  She’d made up her mind before she reached her car. There would be plenty of time to grade papers later, and there was no telling how long Mama C’s group would be at the viaduct. She’d hate to have to start her search all over again.

  This time Kaylee parked where she’d still be able to see her car from the fire barrel. She walked with caution toward those gathered there, searching for the familiar faces from
Saturday night. Heart pounding in her throat, she stopped and stared down at the bloodstained gravel. She glanced over her shoulder, paranoia gripping her chest as she half expected her attacker to be there, leering at her. She released the breath she’d been holding when she saw that no one lurked there.

  Turning back to the ragtag group, she caught Blayne’s eye for a split second before he looked back down to continue his task of shoving things into his well-worn backpack. “You came back,” he called, without looking up.

  “Yep.”

  “How’s your head?”

  She touched the still tender but healing cut held together with seven stitches. “Getting better.” She stopped several paces in front of him and looked around. “There are a lot less people here than there was the other night. Where is everyone?”

  “Oh, you know, out goofing off. It’s a carefree life we homeless live.” He looked up at her, one eye nearly closed in a scowl. “What you really want to know is where Mama C is.”

  “I want to know that too.” She had no idea how to respond to his obvious annoyance with her. “I just…are you…am I bugging you?”

  The zipper on his pack stuck as he tried to close it. He yanked on it then cussed when it broke off in his hand. “Yeah, you kind of are.” He sighed and stood to face her. “Look, I don’t know what you think you’re going to get out of her, what you think you’ll gain by digging into her business then going back to your cozy little dorm room or whatever. Back to your safe little world where daddy’s credit card takes care of your every need. But Mama’s doing good things here, and she doesn’t talk about her past or why she’s homeless. It takes her to a dark place. And these kids need her to not be in that dark place.”

  “What about you? Do you need her?” Kaylee decided to ignore his jab about her daddy’s credit card. If he only knew how hard she’d worked to get and keep scholarships so her lower-middle class parents didn’t have to worry about supporting her.

  He slung his backpack across his right shoulder. “No. Not like I used to.”

  “Then why are you still with her?”

  “To protect her.” He stared down at Kaylee, the piercing blue of his eyes nearly knocking her to the ground. “And because she’s home to me.”

  “Home?” Kaylee caught up and walked alongside him as he stepped away.

  “Yeah. Home isn’t always a place. Sometimes it’s a person.”

  They walked in silence, Kaylee glancing behind her as the distance from her car increased.

  Blayne stopped and looked down at her. “You aren’t going to let this go, are you?”

  She shook her head, mesmerized again by the clear blue eyes peeking out from behind his straggly hair.

  “Fine. Then I have some rules for you. One rule, actually. Don’t push her to tell you about her past.”

  “Okay.” She nodded to reaffirm her sincerity. “Okay. I won’t.”

  He stared at her for a few seconds then continued walking.

  “Wait.” Kaylee looked back at her car again. “Where are you going?”

  He turned and walked backward, raising an eyebrow. “Why do you want to know?”

  “Can I buy you lunch?” she blurted out, warmth flooding her cheeks as she clamped her mouth shut on the words she hadn’t meant to utter.

  “Lunch?”

  “Um, yeah. I…I’d like to ask you some more questions.”

  “For your thesis? I thought you needed Mama C for that?”

  “She’s the main focus, but the paper will involve your whole group.” She jerked her head back toward her car. “Come on. We can go wherever you want—on a poor college student’s budget.”

  Blayne licked his lips. “Aren’t you scared to be alone with me?”

  “Should I be?” She probably should be. Why wasn’t she? Was it because he’d saved her a couple of nights ago? Was it the tender protectiveness he showed for Mama C? Was it the ocean-blue of his eyes?

  “Yeah. Not because I’m planning to hurt you, but because you don’t know that I’m not going to hurt you. You don’t know me.”

  “I’ll take that chance.” What was she thinking? “Where do you want to eat?”

  He looked down at his dirty, worn clothes. “I’m not exactly dressed for a restaurant.”

  Kaylee bit her lip, thinking. “We can do pick-up and eat in the car where it’s warm.”

  He stepped toward her and pulled on his beard. “I haven’t showered in, like, a while. You sure you want that stench in your car?”

  “I have an air freshener.” She grinned and shrugged. “Come on. Where do you want to go?”

  Watching the endless line of cars parading down the busy street in front of her, Kaylee reached for another fry. “So, you haven’t eaten at a restaurant for who knows how long, and you choose McDonald’s?”

  “They have the best fries.”

  She couldn’t argue with that logic.

  He chewed then swallowed a large bite of his hamburger. “Go ahead and ask me.”

  “Ask you what?” She’d been stalling. She had so many questions for him but was afraid of insulting or annoying him. She really didn’t want to rekindle the anger she’d seen from him earlier.

  “You know. ‘Why are you homeless?’ ‘You look normal, why don’t you have a job?’ ‘Does your family know where you are?’” He took a long draw of his drink. “That’s what this lunch was all about, wasn’t it? Because you want to ask me some questions?”

  Yep. Those were the questions that had been racing through her mind. “Why don’t you just tell me whatever you’re comfortable with, and I’ll ask some follow-up questions. And you can answer the ones you want and ignore the ones you don’t want to answer.”

  “Okay.” He wiped ketchup off his beard with a napkin. “Don’t you need to take notes or something?”

  She peeked in the back seat. She hadn’t brought her backpack with her. “I have a pretty good memory—as long as I write everything down as soon as I get home.”

  His eyes bore into hers for several seconds before he turned away to stare out through the windshield. She released the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. His eyes. So clear. So deep. She could sense strength and intelligence in their depths—not at all what she expected to see in the eyes of someone living on the streets.

  “I’m homeless,” he started, “because I left home before my parents had to make the choice to kick me out a few years ago.” He turned his head to look out the side window. “They should have made me leave so much sooner.” His haunting voice grew quiet.

  “How old were you?”

  “Nineteen.”

  That made him just slightly younger than her. “Why?” she whispered.

  “Drugs. I was a druggie.” He turned back to her, searching her eyes as if trying to decide how much to tell her. How far to go. He closed his eyes and blew out a breath. “I put my little sister in danger—I could see that even through the haze of the drugs.”

  Again, Kaylee thought about how clear his eyes looked, how coherent he spoke, how strong he’d felt when he’d helped her to stand in her semi-conscious state the other night. None of those things fit with what she knew about drug addicts. “You said you were a druggie, past tense.”

  He popped another fry in his mouth and waited until he’d chewed and swallowed it to answer. “I didn’t mean to misrepresent myself, here. Once an addict, always an addict. But I have been sober for about six months.”

  Each of his answers brought more questions to her mind. “That’s great. I mean, that’s really great. How…”

  “How did I stop?”

  Kaylee nodded.

  “I met Mama C.” He smiled. “Her number one rule is that if you want to stay in her gang, you have one month to get clean and stay clean. She doesn’t tolerate any slip-ups.”

  This was the trail she needed to follow for her thesis. She forced the other questions down and asked, “What drew you to her? What does she do for you and the others that would pers
uade you to stop? I mean, if you wouldn’t stop for your family, why for her?”

  “I don’t know.” His chin rested on his chest as he stared down at his hands. “I wasn’t ready before. The drugs had such a hold on me, all I could think about was where I was going to get my next fix.” He paused, lifting a finger to his mouth to chew on his nail. “I was near starved to death when Mama C came across me in an alley. I have no idea how long it’d been since I’d last eaten anything. Days. Weeks, maybe. I hadn’t shot up in a couple of days and the withdrawal was horrible. I honestly just wanted to curl up in that alley and die like the worthless piece of shit I am.”

  “No.” She reached for his arm.

  He flinched away from her touch. “Mama wouldn’t let me. She brought me food. A sleeping bag. A coat. She sat with me and nursed me back to health.”

  “Why does she do it?”

  Clearing his throat, he sat up straighter. “You’ll have to ask her that.”

  His tone of voice suggested that his cooperation with her questions was coming to an end. She tried for one more. “Now that you’re clean—why don’t you go home?”

  He barked out a short, humorless laugh. “Thanks for lunch. I need to get going now.” He opened the car door and ducked to get out.

  “Wait. I can take you back.”

  “Nah. Thanks, but I feel like walking.”

  “When will Mama C be back?”

  “She doesn’t keep a regular schedule, college girl. You’ll just have to keep checking back.” He slammed the door and shouldered his backpack as he strode off.

  Kaylee slumped down, pressing her back into the seat. One of the first rules of psychology was to not get emotionally involved with your patients, or, in this instance, with the subjects of your research. Stay detached. Always look at things from the outside. With the first interview, she’d already broken that rule. She closed her eyes and tried to breathe through the tightening of her chest.

 

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