Under the Viaduct

by H. L. Anderson

  She fought back tears, wishing she could bring them all back to her tiny, warm apartment. Her thoughts were interrupted by Mama C.

  “You all remember Kaylee.” She looked around at the small group of young people. “She’d like to hear some of your stories, if you’re willing to talk.”

  A black boy who looked to be younger than her little brother, cocked his head to the side and asked, “Why do you want to know our stories?”

  Kaylee cleared her throat. “I…I’m writing a thesis about Mama C and I’d like to…uh…to add your stories in. To show how she’s helped you and how you got here.”

  “That’s cool.” The boy adjusted his beanie. “I’m Demarcus. What do you wanna know?”

  With a quick glance at Blayne before looking back at Demarcus, she asked, “How did you become homeless?”

  “Well, now, ya’ see. My story’s a little different from these losers.” He slapped a thin blonde girl on the shoulder.

  “Demarcus…” Mama C warned.

  “Just kidding, just kidding. Don’t kill me in my sleep, Blayne.” He turned back to Kaylee. “I just mean that it wasn’t really things I did to get me here, but who I am that got me here.”

  “What do you mean?” Kaylee asked.

  “Well, I’m out here ‘cuz I’m gay.” He focused on the flames from which he warmed his hands. His eyes changed in an instant from the sparkling of a teasing teen, to the dullness of someone with a heart full of hurt. “My dad caught me with the star senior of my high school football team. I was a freshman at the time. The dude grabbed his clothes and ran. I don’t really blame him, my dad’s a big guy.”

  The crackling of the fire and the distant hum of cars were the only sounds for several seconds. Afraid to hear the rest, but still wanting to know, Kaylee asked, “What happened then? What did your dad do?”

  He looked at her, a flash of anger coloring his eyes. “What do you think he did? He was furious. He yelled at me. Called me names. Said, ‘no son of mine is going to be a homo.’ And, ‘your mother would be so disappointed, I’m glad she isn’t here to see this.’”

  “Where’s your mom?”

  “Dead. My mom’s dead. She died of cancer when I was six.”

  “I’m sorry. So, your dad kicked you out?”

  Demarcus’s eyes flicked back to the fire. “I knew he was gonna. So I just saved him the trouble of saying the words. I packed up and got the hell out of there.”

  In a quiet voice, Kaylee asked, “How old are you?”

  “Fifteen.”

  “How long have you been out here?”

  “Almost a year.”

  “How did you find Mama C?”

  The tightness in his jaws relaxed, and the anger was replaced with tenderness as he looked at the older woman. “She found me. I’d tried to find a job, but no one will hire you—at least for legal stuff—when you’re under sixteen. I was starving and desperate. I decided to go in search of one of the illegal jobs a fourteen-year-old could do. I was from the suburbs, man. I didn’t know how things worked in the streets. Instead of getting a job, I got myself beat up.” He nodded toward Mama C. “Mama here found me at my worst. All bloodied up, clothes ripped to shreds, near starved to death.”

  Kaylee looked down at her hands to hide the horror she was sure showed on her face. This poor boy. She shook her head and asked one more question. “When was this? When did Mama C find you?”

  He shrugged. “Maybe five, six months ago. She gave me clothes and food and brought me back to be part of her little family.”

  “Tell her about the goals you’ve set, D.” Mama C nodded encouragement.

  “Well, Mama wants me to go back to school, but that ain’t as easy as it sounds when you have nowhere to live. My goal is to get a job when I turn sixteen. Mama’s gonna help me get a state I.D. and some decent clothes to interview in. Until then, Mama’s helping me stay up on my studies.”

  “You do have some other options, since you’re underage—” Kaylee started.

  “Like what?” Demarcus interrupted. “Foster care? No thanks.”

  Since foster care was exactly what she’d been thinking, Kaylee decided it was time to move on to someone else. “Okay. Um, does anyone else want to tell me their story?”

  “Ha. No way,” the thin, blonde girl whispered. “Why would I want to tell you about my shame? So you and your college buddies can judge me?”

  “Hannah,” Mama C chided. “Kaylee isn’t here to judge anyone. And she asked for volunteers, if you don’t want to be one then don’t. No need to be rude.”

  Hannah sniffed and wiped her face. She backed away from the fire and sat on a sleeping bag laid out a few feet away. Mama C’s eyes followed her, showing only tenderness.

  “I’ll talk to you. I’m an open book.” The older teen brushed his greasy hair out of his face.

  Blayne snorted. “Yeah, a book no one wants to read, Clint.”

  “Yeah, well, it looks like your girlfriend wants to read my book.”

  Blayne’s eyes flicked to Kaylee’s face then back at Clint. “Huh, I wouldn’t date a college girl. They’re too snooty for me.”

  Like I would date a homeless guy, Kaylee thought, the heat rising to her face. Ignoring the sting his words left deep inside, she avoided looking at him and smiled at Clint instead. “I’d love to hear your story, Clint.”

  “Hah! Told you, Blayne.” Clint laughed. “Mine isn’t as dramatic as Demarcus’s. I turned eighteen and left home to pursue legal pot. I couldn’t wait to move to Colorado, where I could partake to my heart’s content and not have to worry about going to jail. I didn’t count on the fact that others of my ilk had the same idea. Or that, even in a state where it’s legal, no one wants to hire a pothead.”

  “Yeah,” Kaylee said. “I’ve heard that many employers still do drug testing and won’t hire you if it’s in your system, even though it is legal here.”

  “Even after I figured that out, though, I was like, ‘no big deal! I’ll just get a job at one of the pot shops!’” He shrugged. “Come to find out, they don’t really like to hire people who might be tempted to try out their wares. Skim a little off the top. Help themselves.”

  “How long have you been here, in Colorado?”

  “About nine months.”

  “Why didn’t you just go home when you couldn’t find a job?”

  “No way to get home. Plus, my parents have a rule—once you move out, you aren’t allowed to move back in. And I doubt they’d bend that rule for me. I was pretty much a douchebag when I left. They weren’t real thrilled about my choice of pot as an antianxiety fix, ya’ know?”

  She knew. Sort of. Her parents would not have taken that well, either. Just one more question and she’d leave. It had become increasingly uncomfortable since Clint’s “girlfriend” remark and Blayne’s tart answer. “How did you find Mama C?”

  “I heard about her. One of the old bums over by the city hall saw me begging a hotdog stand owner for some food. He told me where to find her and that she might be able to hook me up with something to eat.”

  “And he’s been hanging around ever since,” Mama C said. She shuffled over to her upside-down bucket and lowered herself with a grunt. “He’s been off the weed for long enough now that he needs to start looking for a job. Isn’t that right, Clint?”

  Clint ducked his head. “Yes, Mama. I’ll get right on that first thing next week.”

  Kaylee’s phone vibrated in her pocket. She pulled it out. A text message from Allie: Where are you? Thought you were coming to dinner with us.

  “Oh, crap,” she said. “I have to go. Thanks for talking to me.” She turned to Mama C. “When can I come back? I have some follow-up questions for you if that’s okay.”

  “That’s okay. Stop by tomorrow, chances are we’ll still be here.” The old woman raised an eyebrow. “Might be nice if you’d bring some food to share with the group.”

  “Yes, yes. Of course.” Kaylee chastised herself for not thinking o
f that. “See you tomorrow.”

  “It’s about time!” Allie yelled out as Kaylee made her way to their table.

  Kaylee’s face burned as servers and customers looked at her. Allie had never been a good judge of just how far her voice could carry. But, from the smirk on her face, Kaylee thought she’d known this time. She knew how easily Kaylee got embarrassed.

  Max smiled and shook his head before turning to Allie and signing, “Stop embarrassing her.”

  Sliding into the booth across from them, Kaylee caught her friend’s twinkling eyes and showed her the first sign language gesture she’d ever learned—it wasn’t exactly an ASL approved sign, but it got the point across with just the use of a single finger.

  “Where have you been?” Allie asked with a laugh.

  “Working on my thesis project.”

  “Of course. Aren’t you supposed to let me or Max know when you’re going into the dangerous parts of town? You promised, remember?”

  “I thought I told you,” Kaylee stammered. “You must have forgotten.”

  Allie tapped a finger to the side of her head. “This mind is like a steel trap. Once something goes in, it never lets go. Try again.”

  Kaylee sighed. “Fine. I forgot to tell you. I guess I should tell you I’m going down there again tomorrow.”

  “Are you all done with finals, then?” Max asked.

  “Yes, thank goodness.”

  A male server stepped up to the table and smiled at Kaylee. “I’m glad you made it, your friends were starting to worry. Can I get you something to drink?”

  “I’ll have water with lemon, please.”

  “Okay. Are you all ready to order?”

  They ordered, and when the server walked away, Max asked, “How are things going with your thesis project?”

  “Slow but good. I made some progress breaking into the inner circle today. I have a feeling the hardest story to get is going to be Mama C’s. Most of her crew seem more than willing to talk about themselves.”

  “You might have to take off your interviewer hat and put on your investigator hat.” Allie took a sip of her Diet Coke.

  “Yeah.” Kaylee looked down at the table. “I might have to.”

  “Pizza and breadsticks.” Kaylee handed the hot pizza box to Demarcus then shrugged a shoulder and smiled at Mama C. “I brought some fruit and canned goods, too, for later.”

  Mama C took the bags from her, her eyebrows forming a V as she studied Kaylee. “Thank you.”

  Kaylee looked around, a small heartbeat of disappointment fluttered when she didn’t see Blayne among the group.

  Mama C chuckled. “He’ll be around shortly. I sent him on an errand.”

  “I…uh…I wasn’t…” Heat rushed up her face in stark contrast to the freezing air.

  “Of course you weren’t.” Mama C laughed again. “Let’s eat and then you can start grilling me with your questions.”

  The older woman looked around at Demarcus, Hannah, and Clint. “Who’s saying grace?”

  “I will, Mama C.” Hannah glanced at Kaylee with a look of defiance.

  The group moved away from the fire barrel and held hands in a circle, Mama C grabbed Kaylee’s hand on one side and Clint grabbed her other one. Kaylee bowed her head slightly like the others, but as they closed their eyes, she squinted out at them.

  “Heavenly Father,” Hannah began, “we’re thankful for this food we’re about to eat. Please keep us safe and help us be strong. Amen.”

  Kaylee said “amen” a heartbeat behind everyone else as she was a little lost in her thoughts. What do these people have to be thankful for? They’re homeless. No family to help them.

  As if she’d read her mind, Mama C looked at Kaylee with a raised eyebrow. “Yes, Miss Kaylee, even those of us on the streets have much to be thankful for.” She handed Kaylee a slice of pizza and then took one for herself. “For one,” she took a large bite and continued talking as she chewed, “I’m thankful that you have good taste in pizza. Pepperoni, it’s the only way to go. If you’d have shown up here with pineapple on this pizza, our little interviews would have been over.” She smiled and winked.

  Kaylee laughed and took a bite of her slice. Returning to her previous thoughts, she decided she’d been wrong—about a couple of things. They did have a family, they’d made one out of this ragtag group of misfits, all thanks to the strong, strict, laughing woman standing at her side. Kaylee had to know her story. More than just for her thesis project, her investment had grown deeper than that. What made Mama C who she was? She had to find out. She took another bite and chewed thoughtfully. If Mama C wouldn’t crack to her questioning today, she’d take Allie’s advice and go into investigator mode.

  “Save a couple of slices for Blayne.” Mama C broke through Kaylee’s train of thought.

  Kaylee finished her slice of pizza, wiped her hands on a napkin, and threw it in the fire.

  Mama C wiped her mouth on her sleeve and nodded to Kaylee. “Okay. Let’s get this interview over with.”

  They moved off to the side, near the slanting wall that rose up to the bridge above, and sat across from each other on five-gallon buckets.

  Kaylee took a deep breath and looked the older woman in the eyes. “What’s your name?”

  Mama C raised an eyebrow and leaned in. “I’m pretty sure I already told you it’s Claire.”

  Looking down at her hands, Kaylee said, “I was hoping you’d maybe tell me your last name, too.”

  She straightened up and grunted. “Why are you so intent on knowing my last name? It makes no difference to you or your paper.”

  “I don’t know. I guess I’m just wondering why it’s important to you to keep it a secret.” Kaylee looked up at her and shrugged, smiling to soften the words. “What are you trying to hide?”

  A flash of sorrow passed through her eyes. “I’m not trying to hide anything. I just want to keep my past in the past. Some things are better left to lie. Sometimes dredging up the past only serves to increase pain and sorrow.” She shook her head. “Bringing those deeply buried memories to the surface can crush a scarred and crippled soul.”

  The others had all wandered off after eating. Kaylee was thankful for that. Thankful they weren’t there to see Mama C’s words bring tears to her eyes. She swallowed, determined to continue in a soft voice. “Okay. No last name. Will you tell me where you came from? Are you from Colorado?”

  “I am not from Colorado,” she said with finality, closing the door on that line of questioning.

  “How did you get here?”

  “By bus.”

  That was a tiny bit of information to go off of. “Do you have any family that might be worried about you?”

  “No. And again, you are wandering into dangerous territory. Where are you going with this line of questioning? Why is it vital for your thesis?”

  “I just feel like your background is important in order to explore why you’re so special. What makes you who you are. Like, where do you get your money from? You buy food and things for these kids, but I’ve never seen you panhandling.” Kaylee wrung her hands in her lap.

  “Another thing that’s none of your business. You’re walking a tight rope here, Miss Kaylee. I am who I am. Helping and loving others has always been a part of my soul. None of those things came about because of the misfortunes in my life. In fact, I think the important thing for you to note, is that those things—love and caring—remained a part of my life in spite of what went on in my past.” Mama C’s eyes lifted to gaze above Kaylee’s head and a smile touched the corners of her mouth. “Blayne. I’m glad you made it back. We saved a couple slices of pizza for you.”

  “Uh, thanks.” He looked down at Kaylee. “Can I talk to you for a minute, college girl?”

  “Umm, sure.”

  “Over here, Mama doesn’t need to hear this.” He gestured to a spot fifteen yards away, on the other side of the viaduct.

  Kaylee glanced at Mama C then pushed up off the bucket to stand
and follow Blayne. When they reached the other side, he spun to face her, eyes narrowed. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “I’m…I’m just asking questions for my paper.” She wondered how long he’d been within listening distance.

  He leaned in closer to her face. “Yeah, questions you aren’t supposed to be asking. Questions you promised me you wouldn’t ask.”

  Oh, yeah. She had promised him. “I…” She looked down at her hands. “I’m sorry. She’s just so fascinating, I forgot my promise.” She raised her head to meet his eyes, but he was no longer looking at her. Following his gaze, she gasped as three dark figures tramped toward them. Blayne pushed her behind him and she looked to where Mama C still sat. Another dark figure approached her, a baseball bat in hand.

  “Blayne,” she whispered, “Mama C.”

  He looked her direction and then back at the trouble in front of them. “What do you want?” His voice carried to all four of the intruders.

  A shorter guy slapped a tire iron against his hand and stepped forward, the other two flanking him. “We want whatever you got. This looks like a real nice place, too. Protection from the wind, cover from the rain and snow, a nice barrel for fires. Real nice. So, we’re gonna take over here for you, too.”

  “They have food and a coupla’ nice sleeping bags over here,” yelled the man standing over Mama C.

  “We don’t want any trouble from you boys.” Mama C pushed herself up off the bucket she sat on. “You can have it all. We’ll just be on our way.” Her voice remained steady with a touch of resignation—as if she was getting tired of the game. As if this had happened too many times to count. “Come on Blayne. Kaylee. Let’s leave these boys to it.”

  The guy with the tire iron perked up and leaned around Blayne. He raised his eyebrows and licked his lips when he saw Kaylee huddled behind him. Blayne’s hands curled into fists at his sides and he stepped sideways, blocking the guy’s view. “Go collect your spoils. We’re leaving,” he growled.