Out of Order Read online

  Chapter 2

  “Pass those saltines over here.” Armando said as he leaned across the stack of well-worn poker cards.

  Man-Charlie pushed him back. “You’re on the cards. You ain’t going to be cheating this time.” He made a show of reaching in Armando’s pocket and pulling out a couple of the cards.

  “Me cheat? Never!” He managed to look hurt.

  He dug out a handful of saltines that Charlotte had bought at the corner market that afternoon on her way back from the garment district. She had almost two hundred dollars in her pocket but thought it best to keep that to herself. Instead she splurged in buying saltines and a six-pack of cheap diet soda that she shared with the poker players. She kept it cheap to lessen any potential questions about how she could afford something expensive.

  “Can I have some too?” A quiet young man named Vince asked. He smiled when she offered him a sleeve of the crackers. “Pass them over to Goliath over there, when you get some.”

  Goliath was one of those nicknames that you get exactly because of your size, not as a sarcastic opposite nickname, like “Tiny” or “Mouse.” Goliath was huge and he filled the entire end of the large cabinet box they were all huddled in around a single small flashlight and a stack of playing cards. They’d found this furniture factory a while back and learned that the cardboard boxes were huge that the cabinet parts were delivered in. They’d assemble a couple of them together and make a nice temporary living space, especially on nights like this – cold, thunder-storming, and too far from the mission to take shelter.

  “Girlie are you going to play?” Man-Charlie asked her. “We can play with five.”

  She smiled and bowed out, “Not tonight guys. I’m just an innocent bystander. I need to learn how to play first before I try to beat you guys down at your own game.”

  “Innocent.” Vince snorted and then choked back his laugh. His attempt at humor drew some glares from the other men.

  “Be nice.” Charlie said. She was sure he didn’t mean anything by it, not really, but he was new enough that Goliath would pound on him if he needed to. Goliath was the reason that no one messed with Charlotte. He was her protector and had beaten up more than one thug who made bad comments to her. She didn’t ask for it and she didn’t necessarily like it, but it was good to feel some security. Fortunately he was a gentle soul and not like the Biblical Goliath.

  “Alright men, here we go, let’s play some poker. Aces, deuces, and one-eyed jacks are wild.” He told her about the face cards having more than once face. Some are full portrait with two eyes while some are in profile, only showing one.

  Man-Charlie dealt the cards out to everyone as the thunder hammered the air over their heads and the rain hammered the cardboard of their roof. It was already starting to feel soggy to the touch.

  They all looked at their cards, and threw down their outcasts. “I’ll take two,” said Goliath.

  “I’ll take two also,” said Armando.

  “I’ll take four.” Vince said, glaring at the dealer. “These are horrible cards.”

  “Looks like Vince has at least an ace in his hand, or maybe a wild card. The dealer is going to take three.” He handed out the desired cards. “Goliath, you can start the bet.”

  He studied his cards and then wagered. “I’ll bet one.”

  Vince cursed and threw down his entire hand.

  “I’ll see you and raise you one. I’m in for two,” Armando offered.

  Goliath threw in his cards, “too many for me.”

  “I want to raise you but I think I’ll call instead.” Man-Charlie offered to Armando who was looking smug and cocky. “Let’s see them.”

  They both laid down their hands, showing their cards. Armando swung his hands, “Are you kidding me?” He had a pair of tens and Charlie had a pair of Queens.

  “I win the first hand! Hand it over!”

  Armando reaches into an inner pocket and pulls out a sharpened pencil. “I believe two was the bet.” Armando nods.

  Girl-Charlie is confused. “You’re playing poker for pencils?”

  Man-Charlie looks at her, “No dear, we’re playing for holes.”

  “Huh?”

  He leans over with the pencil, like he was going to write on Armando’s face. Instead he quickly jabs two holes in the cardboard ceiling directly over Armando. Rain instantly begins to drip onto Armando’s head. “See he bet two and lost. He got two.”

  Girl-Charlie erupts in laughter, the most she’d had since leaving home. Armando sullenly looks at her as twin drips of water hit him on top of the head. “You play next time and we’ll see how funny it is.”

  An hour later, all of them were soaked from the dozen holes poked in the box, including Charlotte who was a good sport and joined in, losing three hands I a row. Her hair was plastered to her head when she relented for the night.

  “Guys, I’m tired and now I’m wet. I want to go dry off and get some sleep.” She kissed them all on the cheek, including Vince, who blushed furiously. “Let’s play again when it’s not raining so hard.”

  “Then it wouldn’t be any fun,” Goliath offered, then, “Goodnight Charlotte,” as she crawled out of the giant box and made her way to her usual doorway.

  She heard Man-Charlie yell from the box, “Say your prayers!”

  “Alright, alright.” She dried her hair with her one clean towel in her pack and then quietly said a prayer, thankful for the people in her life and also for Adrianne who she hoped would find her beauty soon.

  She looked up at the sky outside of the deep doorway and thought for a moment she saw the moon through a break in the clouds. Just like the sun earlier, now the moon was reminding her that there was much more above the rain, you just had to look for it.

  “I wonder if that’s a metaphor for my life,” she said out loud to no one. She uncovered her Louisville Slugger baseball bat that she kept hidden beside the doorway and propped it near her head. She wasn’t totally defenseless.

  • • •

  The sun was shining brightly for a treat of a day. The temperature was comfortable and for a little while, all seemed right with the world. The little group of Charlie’s friends decided to go to the park and try to have a pleasant day and to see about making a little pocket change.

  Man-Charlie left for a little while and showed back up with some of his jewelry making supplies. Everyone knew better than to ask where they came from, because that sort of thing was deeply personal and out of bounds even for friendly lines of banter or questioning. He set up a very small table and right away began to make some small wristlets. He said they were much more than bracelets because they captured a small part of his spirit as he made them, putting himself into their artistry. When he was twisting the copper wires and selecting the perfect beads or bangles, Man-Charlie stopped being homeless and Charlie was able to see him for the artisan he is.

  Goliath turned out to be the surprise for everyone that morning, however. From his dirty old green gym bag, he pulled out a giant box of chalks. In no time at all, he had begun a portrait of Marilyn Monroe right there on the sidewalk. It was so good that the usually rude city people were quickly sidestepping his work instead of treading across it. Some even stopped to watch and commented at his skill. Charlie stood open mouthed at the talent this mountain of a man was exhibiting.

  “Hey Charlotte!” A voice came up behind Charlie. She cringed because she hated being called by her proper name, but turned to see who it was.

  “I brought my guitar. Feel like singing today?” The girl said. Kate, the girl holding the instrument was a local college student who was scrounging to keep her head above water while attending her classes. She wasn’t really any better off than the rest of them other than that she had a purpos
e and a real direction in her life. She would soon have a college degree and a promise of a real career. In the meantime, she would often bring her guitar to the park and play for change from the tourists. If Charlie sang with her, she would split it with her.

  “Sure! I feel sort of left out around all of this artistic skill today! Maybe I can add a little of my own.” She doubted her voice was very good but when she sang, she managed not to be able to hear it. She didn’t know if it was a curse or a blessing being able to ignore her own song.

  Kate tuned her guitar and played a few experimental chords. “I’m ready when you are.”

  “Go right ahead. If I know the words I’ll join you.”

  They all played, chalked, and sold wristlets for several hours. Charlie really enjoyed singing and she enjoyed that it made her smile to sing along with her part-time musical friend. She got lost in the music and often just sat and sang with closed eyes.

  “You both perform beautifully!” an older woman congratulated them as she tossed a few dollars into Kate’s guitar case.

  Charlie opened her eyes to thank the woman and her voice caught in her throat. There, in eye contact with her, was the mother of the most evil little girl she’d ever known. Memories of bullying and harassment from years of grade school flooded into her mind. The mother looked at her quizzically, recognizing her, but not knowing from where.

  “I know you.”

  “You do look familiar to me too. I bet I saw you somewhere else today.” Charlie quickly added trying to stop any further attempt to solve the mystery in her mind. She looked over to Man-Charlie and there was Amelia, the bully from school, scornfully appraising his work.

  “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” she said to Kate and quickly got up to go toward the public restroom behind them. Her breath was quick and her heart was pounding in her chest. She couldn’t let the woman recognize her. Her parents would have gotten a call before the night fell. She also couldn’t let Amelia see her. She couldn’t stand the ridicule and the shame of that girl knowing how she was living.

  When she peeked back out from the bathroom, the pair had gone. She went back out and sat with Kate to sing the rest of the afternoon. Like clockwork, just before the street lights came on, two police officers came walking through, stopping to talk to each of the performers, artists, beggars, or just loiterers, telling them the park was about to close. One of the cops, a much younger one, handed Charlie and a few others a five dollar bill. She was quite surprised by his generosity.

  “How can I call you a pig and spit on you when you do stuff like that?” She asked him.

  He laughed and told her that if she were just a few years older, she’d be in real trouble.

  “What? It’s against the law to be in your twenties now?”

  “No!” he protested. “I’d have to ask you to marry me!”

  She blushed realizing that she was being flirted with, and turned away. When she looked back, he had walked on and handed some cash to an old man sleeping on a bench, just before making him leave.

  “Nice guy,” she said.

  “Yeah, he was,” Kate said, closing up her guitar case. “Here’s your cut. We made twenty apiece.”

  Charlie accepted the hand full of change and bills, shoving them in her pocket. “Thanks Kate. I’ll see you around.” Just like that, their business was done and they would start again the next time they saw each other.

  Goliath stood over his completed portrait of the movie starlet and others stood around looking with him. There were oohs and a couple of comments about how life-like it looked. One man said it looked like a photograph. Man-Charlie bragged on Goliath by telling the small crowd that he had drawn it from memory.

  • • •

  “Hey girlie! Let’s go eat!” she heard Charlie yell from around the corner. “I can smell bacon in the air!”

  She groaned and rolled over, reaching for her hairbrush in the side pocket of her pack and her toothbrush. “Give me a minute.”

  “Hurry! The bacon awaits!”

  “That’s just your upper lip you’re smelling old man!”

  “Ha! Not a morning person still, are you!”

  She grumbled some more and shoved her toothbrush into her mouth, reminding herself to buy something other than what the mission handed out for toothpaste. As she sucked on the toothbrush and spat into the gutter, she brushed through her short hair, which was now reaching for her shoulders. “Mom wouldn’t recognize me now,” she thought to herself, considering her hair was incredibly short when she first left home. Her stylist at the time said that boy-cuts were very popular in the cities this summer. She had news for her. She’d not seen the first girl with a boy-cut.

  She hid her ever present baseball bat back in its secret place and straightened up the area. She didn’t want to draw any unusual attention to herself or her sleeping place of choice. Also, she realized that the big red “for sale” sign in the window may one day receive some interest and she didn’t want to discourage anyone from buying the building simply because she chooses to sleep in its doorway when she can.

  “Girlie, are you cleaning up your bed room still?” Man-Charlie said as he walked around the corner, to witness her folding up a piece of cardboard that she lays on. He laughs, “Girl you won’t do but I bet your mama would be very proud of your housekeeping skills.”

  “I have my reasons.” She growled, still not quite in a jovial mood for the day.

  “I’m sure you do, but that bacon is waiting.”

  “What is it about bacon? Why is it such a comfort food? Everything about a pig screams that it’s dirty.”

  “I don’t know but I sure do love it.”

  “Me too, but seriously, ham, bacon, sausage – I crave them.”

  Man-Charlie chuckled, “you think way too much girlie. You should just be thankful and enjoy the flavor when we can get it.”

  “Oh I do!” She slings her pack over her shoulder. “Where are we going to eat this morning?”

  “I thought we’d go over to the Catholic Church on 8th Avenue. They need some work done to get ready for the holidays and I figured I could lend a hand. Doesn’t feel right always taking and not giving.”

  Charlotte clutched at her shirt over her chest and twisted it up in a fist and held her other hand to the air. “Please Lord don’t strike him down! He is sincere in his desire to do good. He’s not mocking a work ethic!”

  Man-Charlie gave her a “p-sha” sound and his practiced evil eye. “Girlie don’t you mock me like that. I do work from time to time.” He looked at his palms. “Just seems that my palms have gotten soft over the years.

  She laughed and patted him on the back. “It’s ok, I promise. We know how it is for you old guys.”

  He looked serious as he studied his hands and then held them up for her to see. “These hands have done lots of things, Girlie. They were once hard with callous. They’ve held riches, and babies. They’ve twisted ropes and bread.” He softens, “They have created and they have destroyed.”

  She hooks her arm in his and walks him down the sidewalk noticing the strange looks from the other pedestrians. She first wanted to let them think that she was an item with this much older man but she realized that there were tears on Man-Charlie’s cheeks. She turns him to her.

  “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings!” She hugged his neck and whispers into his ear, “Please don’t be upset.”

  He squeezed her back. “You could never hurt me Charlotte-girl.” He rarely ever used her name. “The only one who can hurt my heart like this is mine-own self. Memories can be ragged and tormenting. Sometimes I feel like my life is wasting away and I’ve never amounted to anything.”

  “Don’t believe that!”


  “It’s the truth, I promise.” He was reverting to his South Pacific accent. He was really in spiritual pain, she recognized.

  “Let’s go on to that church. I think maybe you need to talk to that Priest, and then do some work for him.”

  “Thank you but that’s not what is hurting me so much.” He takes a deep breath, and looks deep in her eyes. “I think it’s time for me to leave.”

  “Leave, where would you go? You’re not sick are you?”

  “Yes I am sick, but not in my body.” He pushes the toe of his shoe into the street dirt and flicks it up. “I’m tired of the filth. It stops me from feeling pure.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Wait til you hit your forties, Girlie, that’s when the feelings started and I ignored them for a lot of years. You start looking for meaning to your life and you realize how much of your life has already passed you by. It is regret and I regret a lot.”

  “What can I do to help?”

  He smiles warmly at her, as her father often did. She could see love in his eyes, and it wasn’t the romantic type that Vince looked like, although she doubted he actually knew what love was. “You’ve already helped me more than you know. You’ve made me feel like a real person. You’ve respected me and you’ve been a friend to me. I will always cherish what you and I have shared these few months.”

  “You’re scaring me.”

  “I’ve talked to Goliath and one other about leaving, and they want to go to.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “It’s not a ‘we’ thing, Girlie. You’re not like us. You’re smart. You have a future ahead of you if you’ll just reach out and grab it.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “We’ve all got enough money together that we can each buy a one-way bus ticket to South Florida. We’ll probably go somewhere like Miami or Ft. Lauderdale.”

  “I’ve got enough money to do that too! I got paid some yesterday. I just didn’t tell anybody.”

  “Smart girl, never tell anyone when you have money.”

  “I can buy a ticket too.”

  “I don’t want you to come.”

  “But why?” She was starting to cry herself. “What have I done wrong?”

  He thought about it for a moment, wrestling with the right way to say what was on his mind.

  “What have you done wrong? I don’t know if I’d say it that way, but you have a chance at a real life and a good future. You’re abandoning it. People are starting to realize that, although you never tell anyone.” He takes a deep breath to continue, “You are different Charlotte.”

  There he goes using her name again. This was serious. “We all recognize that you’re not like us. Back in the back of your mind, you know it too.” He sees the tears on her cheeks and gives her a fatherly hug. “It’s time for you to go home. Winter will be here soon and it’s not fair what you are doin’ to your mudder and fadder.”

  “This is my home. I want…” He shushes her.

  “No dear one, this is not your home. This is not your home at all. You do not belong here.”

  “I’m not going anywhere!” She yelled this and stomped off down the sidewalk, not looking back to see if he was following her. “He can’t dismiss me from this city like that. He just can’t.”

  She wipes the tears off of her cheeks with the backs of her sleeves. She was surprised that she let him get so close to her, emotionally. She never intended to ever be vulnerable to anyone, certainly not a man, a fatherly man.

  Man-Charlie didn’t go after her. He had seen her stick out her bottom lip like that before and he knew that there was no chance of him changing her mind right then. He’d have to work on her and get her to think it through. They hadn’t planned on leaving for Florida for a few more days anyway. He’d lost his craving for bacon for the morning.

  • • •

  Charlie wandered through the garment district again, gazing into the windows and seeing things that she would do differently on a variety of the outfits being shown off behind the glass. She would use a different pattern here or a different cut there. She would use a different stitch pattern here.

  “What’s wrong with them? Don’t they realize that the stitches they are using won’t last long?” She chuckled at the idea of a runway model finding a loose thread while on the runway, and tugging at it. The dress would just fall apart on the stage. That would be too funny, she thought.

  She wandered through the truck loading area and saw Mrs. K outside of her door. She waved at Charlie and smiled, her lipstick like a neon sign on her face. Charlie just smiled and waved back, keeping on walking through the area. She needed time to think about what her friend said to her. He said she needed to go home.

  She intentionally didn’t think about her parents or her home because it stirred up too many feelings inside of her, most of them unpleasant. There were a few that were good feelings, hidden well behind the memories of why she left home to start with. She did miss her few real friends and wondered where they were. She thought that they would probably be getting ready to go to school. None of them were quite like her and able to graduate early.

  They would be passing each other in the hallways. They would laugh and enjoy each other and then go to their classes where they would sit and learn things from people supposedly smarter than they are. They would eat lunch in the cafeteria, from plastic bags or colorful lunch bags and talk about what they were going to do that weekend, who liked whom, or what other gossip older teens engaged in.

  They wouldn’t be walking a big city street alone, with dirty clothes, only getting a good shower maybe once a week, getting their food from charity kitchens or wondering what menace would loom out of the next dark alleyway. They got to be kids. They had dreams. She didn’t and it made her angry.

  Once she miscarried the baby she subconsciously stopped planning for the future. She didn’t realize it until this morning when Man-Charlie talked about moving to Florida, presumably for the winter, that she never made any plans beyond the next few hours. She remembered a time when she had plans and goals that spanned years, not hours.

  “What have I become?” She thought to herself out loud.

  She kept on walking down the street and saw Adrianne’s tiny little car pull into the parking lot in front of her. She didn’t know she had a car. She just saw her behind the wheel and walked up to her when she parked.

  “I didn’t know you have a car.” She said as she opened the door, startled by her quiet approach.

  “Oh! Charlie! How are you?”

  “I’m good, how are you?”

  “I’m good too. Going to go check out the new design mall. You got me to thinking about opening my own place there.”

  “That’s great!”

  “Mrs. K didn’t think so, at first. I had to promise that if I ever did get my own shop, I’d have to still do design for her.”

  “That’s job security.”

  “She said that she loved my edgy fashion sense.” She smiled shyly.

  “See! I told you that you were the only one who thought badly of your work.”

  “We’ll see how it all goes.”

  She put her arm through Adrianne’s just like she’d done Man-Charlie earlier and walked toward the building but Adrianne stopped her. “Do you want to put your backpack in my car for now? Those people in there might try to judge you for living in the street.”

  Charlie was stunned to silence. She didn’t know that Adrianne was aware of her living situation. She started to stammer out an excuse.

  “Hey don’t sweat it. I’ve known since I met you the first time.”

  “I’m embarrassed. I don’t know what to say.
”

  “It’s okay. It was none of my business and still isn’t. Those people in there,” She points toward the glass building, “will pretend to make it their business and turn up their snobby noses at you.”

  “Sure,” she took her pack off and handed it to Adrianne who locked it in the trunk of the car.

  “We’ll get it back when we leave.”

  “Ok.” She realized that she had just locked all of her worldly possessions in another person’s car. If she left, she could lose everything not that she thought Adrianne would steal her stuff. She didn’t have anything.

  “Do I look ok to go in?” She became self-conscious now that Adrianne had revealed what she knew.

  Adrianne moved a stray lock of hair from Charlie’s face. “There, now you’re perfect. Remember, shabby is chic these days.” She smiled.

  “I’m certainly chic then!”

  They approached the front of the mall and Charlie noticed that there were security cameras everywhere. “They sure have a lot of security for a bunch of clothes stores.”

  “Not just clothes. It’s the diamonds. There is a brokerage in here now.” She leans close to Charlie’s ear. “I heard that they want to be the biggest diamond broker and have a ton of loose stones in a safe in the back.”

  Charlie shrugged, not really impressed. She’d always been more of a sapphire type of girl, never one to be turned on by diamonds. “So they are for the rich people? Is that what you’re saying?”

  “Not really. I think they want to be a source provider and sell to the jewelry stores and designers. You can look at their store but only by appointment and you can’t actually browse.”

  “That really is snooty!” Charlie used a posh accent and pointed out her pinky finger.

  “There is a small window you can look at, but it’s usually nothing more than decorative boxes or a poster.”

  Charlie laughed, remembering the poster of the nearly nude woman and the diamond bracelet. “I know exactly what you’re talking about!” She laughed some more, “Duct tape and a sea shell!”

  Adrianne looked her puzzled, “How did you know? Have you been here already?”

  “No, there are others…”

  “Well let’s go in.” They pushed through the large and ornate revolving door. They could feel the air pressure change as the large door revolved. Bright lights lit them from above, obviously for the security cameras visible everywhere.

  The two young women walked in to the large atrium-like lobby of the fashion mall. There was a security guard by the door. He was armed and Charlie noted that too. “Fashion police? She asked, barely able to contain another laugh.

  Adrianne snorted and then choked it back, trying to maintain her decorum. “Please! I want to be a peer here some time, not a giggly girl!”

  Charlie stopped grinning so largely at the security officer who probably thought she was flirting anyway. “Yes, ma’am. I’ll try and be more proper.”

  They walked around in a large circle, taking in the marble, glass and brass that seemed to be the primary source of opulence. “Look how everything around the mall is sort of dulled, drawing your eyes to the display windows of the shops. They are advertising and drawing you in without you even being aware that they are doing it.

  Charlie was amazed that she hadn’t caught that. It was true. The farther you got from the windows, the less flashy and more mundane everything looked. It made you focus on the windows. “That’s too cool! I never would have noticed if you hadn’t said something.”

  “I bet you want some hot chocolate right now, too.”

  Charlie thought about it for a moment and then agreed, “Yes! How did you know?” She looked around for some sort of obscure subliminal messaging.

  “Turn around.” She did.

  “That little coffee shop is using the same type of merchandising tactics. They have a couple of small fans that blow outward from the store. It carries the smell out into the atrium and draws you in. They have my favorite; mint-hot chocolate.”

  “You come here a lot don’t you?”

  “I started coming here while it was still under construction. I met one of the engineers and he told me about a lot of the design.” Her cheeks turned a little pink while she talked.

  “Ah, you had a crush on him.” Charlie caught on.

  “No! He’s married.”

  “Doesn’t change anything. You were crushing!” Charlie danced away from her, toward the coffee shop. “Come on. I’ll treat to hot chocolate while you tell me everything.”

  Adrianne hesitated. “I didn’t have a crush on a married man.” She smiled. “He was just very smart and liked what I had to say. It was all professional. I promise.”

  “I was kidding! I know you would never do that! Come get some chocolate with me.”

  They sat at the wrought iron table and drank their hot chocolate. Adrianne bought some Italian coffee cookies which they both enjoyed. They spent probably an hour sitting there, noticing a couple of celebrities that tried hard to not be noticed. Adrianne also pointed out all of the shops and told Charlie about the designers that ran the products in them.

  “That one right there,” she pointed to one in the corner, “is a fraud. I know that designer and there’s no way she’s making what they have in their window. Her greatest creation was a custom painted tennis shoe. Mrs. K thinks that they are using “interns” to do the work.” She made quotes in the air with her fingers when she said interns. “They bring in students with hopes of working for a large design house, challenge them, and then steal their ideas.”

  “How do they get away with that?”

  “They call it a work product. They have them sign all kinds of waivers to intern. The interns are happy to just be working and having someone look at their designs. They don’t care what happens to them as long as they get to climb that career ladder.”

  “Did you do that?”

  “No, Mrs. K, rescued me from the street and when she saw I could design a turtle neck sweater that didn’t scream ‘old maid,’ she offered me a job.”

  “You were homeless?”

  “Yes and no. I was a runaway. I had a home to go to but thought I was too good or too smart for them so I stayed in the street.” Adrianne looked at her waiting for a response.

  Charlie, on the other hand, thought that Adrianne knew more about her than she let on and was taunting her or trying to teach her a lesson of some sort. It made her mad. “What are you trying to pull?”

  Adrianne blinked. “What do you mean?”

  “Are you trying to play some mean game with me?”

  “Why in the world would you think that? I’ve never told anyone about where I came from. I thought maybe you would understand.”

  “Mrs. K didn’t put you up to it?”

  “No! She doesn’t know I’m here. She’d probably fire me if she knew I spent so much time here.”

  Charlie began to calm down greatly. “So what about your shop? Where would it go?”

  Adrianne quickly raised her hand to point over Charlie’s head, “Right there!” It’ll be above the diamond broker. That place is so mysterious, people will have to look up to the second floor and see my place. That’s what that merchandizing engineer told me, anyway.”

  “It makes sense to me. Can we go see it?”

  “It’s not mine yet.”

  “I know that. I just want to see what it looks like from up there.”

  “I’m pretty sure that the upstairs is still locked off since they’ve only completed the ground floor.”

  “Oh come on, I sleep in the street. I can handle sneaking around a construction site.”

  “I may be a bit rusty.
”

  “I’m sure you’re remember just fine.”

  The two young women found a fire-stair that was unlocked and sneaked up to the next floor. The stairwell was packed with construction supplies and several really large new-looking duffle bags. Those got the girls attention but they walked past to go out on the landing of the next walkway to look down. They leaned over and looked down into the atrium. It wasn’t too high but the marble floors made it look much taller than it really was. They only jumped back when the security guard looked up at them.

  They crouched behind the railing. “Do you think he saw us?” Adrianne asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “I don’t want to get in trouble in this building.”

  “Just act like you belong here. Soon, you will.”

  They both stood up and looked over. The security guard was still staring at them. He winked at Charlie and she waved back coyly.

  “Well we’re busted.” Adrianne said. “Right there is where I want my shop to go.” She pointed at the doorway beside them.

  “That’s awesome! It’s right in front of the revolving doors. It’ll be the first thing you see when you walk in. You’ll need neon!”

  “They won’t allow neon. It’s too gaudy but I’ll figure a way to draw your attention.”

  “I’m sure you will.” She looked back at the security guard who was still staring. He gave a subtle head gesture for them to come back down, so they did, not wanting to push their luck.

  Back in the stair well some equipment stored there caught their attention. Having both lived on the street, the presence of the black bags bothered them. They were too new compared to all of the old equipment stacked up and strewn around the area. Adrianne speculated that there was some great marvel of merchandising hidden inside of them. Charlie was just curious. Their curiosity getting the best of them, they were about to open one of the bags when the stairwell door began to open below them. The security guard stuck his head in. “Ladies time for you to come down, please.”

  They both laughed, “We’re on our way.” They went down the stairs and turned sideways to sidle past him holding the door open. Adrianne introduced herself as a designer planning on opening up a shop at the shop above them. She pointed to where they were standing.

  “I’m pleased to meet you.” He shook her hand, his own swallowing hers. “Are you a designer too?” He asked of Charlie.

  “Me? Heavens no. I don’t have a creative bone in my body. I just wear the clothes she makes.”

  Wanting to carry on the quasi-ruse, Adrianne jumped in. “She’s a model! She models what I design.” The guard looked at Charlie again, his eyes widening, apparently he’d been skeptical at first, considering how Charlie was dressed and looked.

  “I can see her modeling. She has striking facial features.” He looked closer at her. “How old are you?”

  Charlie was about to concoct a lie for him but Adrianne again jumped in. “She’s old enough to know better than to get mixed up with the likes of you!” She winked and punched the guard in the large bicep. He laughed.

  “I have to lock up so if you’ll excuse me.” He turned, producing a ring of odd looking keys. “Extremely high security, you know.” He locked the door. “I hope you’ll keep your excursion upstairs to yourselves.”

  “Mum’s the word,” Charlie offered. “By the way, where is the little girl’s room?”

  The guard pointed between two large potted palms. “You’ll go over there. The little boys room,” he snickered, “is across the atrium.”

  “Me too,” said Adrianne.

  “Figures,” said the guard, his chauvinism showing, “you all move in herds.” He returned to his post by the revolving door.

  • • •

  “Oh my goodness!” was all Charlie could say as she pulled open the door to the women’s restroom. She was bathed in a while light that reflected off of the ornate fixtures and marble floors. “This looks like a ball room!”

  Adrianne followed her in, “yeah, it’s nicer than where I live.” She stopped suddenly, realizing that she’d just complained about where she lived, knowing that Charlie didn’t even have a roof to sleep under. “I’m sorry.”

  Charlie waved her off as she walked in looking the place over. “This sink is huge. I could wash my hair in here and not touch the sides.” She put her hands in the sink and warm water automatically came pouring out. She put her hands under a different looking nozzle and a scented foam soap poured out for her. She looked up searching for some way to dry her hands.

  “Just hold them there. I did this the other day myself.” Adrianne offered, and Charlie did, waiting. Soon a blast of heated air came from the same faucet that gave her the water. She rubbed her hands briskly.

  “Too cool!” Charlie exclaimed walking toward a toilet stall.

  “Wait till you see the stalls...” Adrianne said just as she threw the door open to reveal the small room behind. Charlie was amazed. There was a small sitting area before you even got to the toilet.

  “Hey there’s a bench in here with a full length mirror – and a toilet!” She laughed.

  “This is a fashion mall. A lot of people will come in here and change clothes to wear their new purchases outside to show off.”

  “Why don’t they change in the stores?”

  Feigning being affronted, “Are you kidding? That would be so gauche to wear something out of the dressing room. You change in an exclusive public restroom instead!” She laughed, making air quotes when she said “public.”.

  Charlie laid back on the bench. “This is comfortable! I could take a nap here.”

  “No, that’s why the walls don’t go to the floor and you can see under. People can see if someone is in there and it prevents anyone from staying too long.”

  Charlie bent over and peered under the door at Adrianne, “You mean these are for the voyeuristic?”

  “Absolutely not!”

  “But you said people come in here…oh wait, never mind. Ugh, I know what you’re saying.”

  Adrianne laughed again. “You’re such a country mouse!”

  “Squeak, squeak,” She replied, quite mouse-like.

  • • •

  “So there is an armed security guard at the door and cameras everywhere. It’s an amazing place.” Charlie excitedly told Man-Charlie about what she’d seen that day. “I think I know how to spend the night in there.”

  “You don’t want to go to jail for something like that, Girlie.”

  “Well, if you’re going to run out on me and not let me come along I have to do something!”

  “I’m not running out on you. You need to go home and you’re not going to do it if we all stay here with you.”

  “So that’s it? You’re all going to run away so I’ll feel abandoned and run away myself?”

  “No, it’s not like that…”

  “Yes it’s exactly like that. You’re going to abandon me just like he did. You’re going to leave me all alone just so you’ll feel better about yourself.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, girlie, but it’s got nothing to do with feeling better about myself. It’s just the right thing to do. Besides, I want to be able to take my shoes off and walk along the ocean. I want to be able to wear my short pants all the time. I’m not made for cold weather. I’m an Islander, remember?”

  “So you want to just ease your guilt because you’ve made me reliant on you for support and you want to run away. ‘Go home girlie, so I don’t have to feel guilty about leaving you to go to the beach’ is exactly what you’re trying to tell me.”

  “It’s not like that at all!”

  “Yes it is!”

 
“Your immaturity is shining through Charlotte. You need to take me at my word. I have a bus ticket for tomorrow night at nine o’clock. You need to go get one to take you back home. I’ll pay for it for you.”

  “Who do you think you are? You can’t make me leave if I don’t want to! I came to this city without you! I can surely live here without you!”

  “But I don’t want…”

  “I don’t care what you want. You stay away from me. Go on to Florida. Take your friends and you run away. Don’t look back at me.” She grabbed up her back pack and went around the corner and got her baseball bat, hiding it uncomfortably under her jacket between her back and her pack. She made for the park. No more dentist office doorways for her. No more Man-Charlie, Goliath or whoever the other one going with them is.

  “Good riddance,” She screamed into the night air.

  She walked deep into the park and without realizing it began to emerge from the other side which was very near the fashion mall that she and Adrianne had spent the day in earlier. She began to hatch a plan to make her way inside for the next night. Tonight she would be sleeping under the stars. “I’m glad it’s not raining.” She said to no one.

  As she walked down the sidewalk, she noticed blue and red lights strobing in the trees overhead. It created a bit of a surreal carnival atmosphere with the lights bouncing around the leaves. She crested a small rise and saw a police car parked behind an ambulance, both with their emergency lights on. She approached behind the small crowd that had gathered behind the hastily erected police tape.

  “What happened?” she asked of a man holding a small posh looking apartment dog.

  “It was brutal!” He shook his head. “I got here right after it happened. He was so brutal!”

  “What happened?” she asked again.

  “That girl was beaten.” He pointed to a shroud draped shape.

  “Is she dead?”

  “As a door nail!”

  “Who did it?”

  “They don’t know. They haven’t caught him yet,” He looked around conspiratorially, “but I saw him. I saw him sneak away.”

  “Did you tell the police? What did he look like?”

  “He had on a short sleeve white shirt that had a gold piping around the cuff of the sleeve.” He paused, “He also had on black pants and black tennis shoes.”

  “A stripe?”

  “It was one of those polo shirts like the fashionable kids wear. Like a polo uniform.” He rambled, “I hope you stay away from him. He punched that girl three or four times and then ran away.”

  He pointed back towards the perimeter street. “The cops won’t believe me. They say I report too much.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I tend to call the police too much. They say I’m a paranoid.”

  “I understand.” She said, now wondering if he was a crazy guy. “I have to go.”

  “You be careful out there! Say your prayers tonight!”

  She spun on him, “What?”

  “Be careful out there!”

  “I will.” Maybe she just imagined the older man telling her to say her prayers like Man-Charlie was so fond of doing.

  She found a small nook next to a utility box. It was humming quietly and was warm. She put her back against it and laid down under her specialty store blanket. As long as it didn’t rain, she would be just fine for the night. Her baseball bat was in her hand as she slept, just in case the guy who beat the other girl came back. She said a quick prayer before closing her eyes for the night. “It must be an old guy thing,” she thought to herself.

  • • •

  Charlie woke up stiff and angry. Her body ached from sleeping directly on the hard ground instead of her usual cushion of stacked cardboard. She was angry that she was now officially a “park person,” someone she swore that she would never become. The park people were those who were like you see in the zombie movies. They just seem to wander about aimlessly with no destination in mind or any kind of purpose. She’d always planned on where she would spend her nights and disliked the spontaneity of sleeping next to the humming utility box. She was especially uncomfortable now that the illusion of her male protectors was gone.

  The killing in the park left her shaken, even though she had no idea how it happened, who did it, or who the victim was. She preferred to think of it like the news broadcasts always promoted it, “A drug deal gone bad.” So far, the drug deals she’d witnessed were swift, silent and with as little drama as possible. Those that had the chance to go bad as the news would say, or involve such violence probably involved territorial arguments, large transactions or outright robbery. She doubted that her baseball bat would dissuade anyone from coming after her if they were truly interested in doing her harm.

  She pulled her backpack from under her head and dragged out her toothbrush and smeared on some of the chalky toothpaste. She shoved it into the back of her mouth and held it with her back teeth as she closed the top of the pack. She decided to keep covered up in her blanket for the time being, not wanting to let the sun shine in on her just yet. She was angry and wanted to be angry for a little while at least.

  As she scrubbed at her teeth, sans water, she thought back over her life of the last two days. She’d made some good money wearing fancy clothes, lost her best friend because he thought he knew what was best for her, lost her sleeping spot, became a park person, and saw a dead body, albeit under a covering. They started off ok, and ended in a rotten way. Was Man-Charlie right? Was it time for her to go home? She shook her head as she peeled back the edge of the blanket and spat the toothpaste into a bush. She squinted her eyes and looked around. She didn’t see anyone lurking to do her harm, other than a jogger dressed head to toe in yellow spandex who looked more like a running banana caricature than a desperate killer of young women.

  Standing, she stretched out her arms and then twisted her back at the hips, working out the kinks. She shook out her blanket marveling how dirt never seemed to cling to its “magical” forest green and gray surfaces. She first thought it was ugly when she bought it from the outdoor store, with the clerk explaining that it was intended for a “non-environmental impact” use by the owner, which included not introducing “offensive colors” to the outdoors. It worked well for her, when sleeping in doorways. The dark gray side had effectively camouflaged her in the shadows and the dark green side helped her blend in with her surroundings this night in the park.

  “Ok, I admit it. I love it.” She said out loud, validating the sales clerk’s pitch to her months earlier. “It sheds water and dirt too. You’re welcome!” She sighed, giving final validation for the clerk, although he had no idea she was saying it to the shrubs beside the utility box. Passers-by would think one of two things if they saw her do this: she was talking on a blue-tooth telephone device or she was stark-raving mad talking to imaginary people.

  Her stomach growled angrily in protest to being empty for the night. She hadn’t eaten the previous evening when she ran away from Man-Charlie and his fatherly over-tones. She stalked around the city and the park, preferring to be angry and ignoring her needs. She wanted oatmeal and bacon and decided to go to the church on 8th for the breakfast.

  She knew she would run the chance of seeing her “old gang” but at that point, she didn’t care. She was mad at all of them. They’d decided to move on, without even talking to her. Even worse, they’d made the decision that she should go home, without even talking to her. Man-Charlie just decided that he was going to impose their will on her, without regard what she thought she should do.

  She slid the pack on her sore shoulders and headed across the park toward the 8th avenue outlet. She walked past the place the girl was killed the night before. She took a mo
ment to consider her mortality – not her own, but of the dead girl. There was no chalk-outline, there was no police tape or warning cones with signs saying “A girl was tragically murdered right here on this very spot, last night.” She was dead and the city moved on, oblivious that her life was snuffed out. She considered the baby she’d lost and felt a hitch in her chest. Where was the zest and love for life that people were supposed to have? Where was the respect?

  There was a small stain on the asphalt walkway, about the size of a walnut. She kneeled down, and touched her hand to it. Was it blood or was it just a stain that had manifested over the years of pedestrian traffic? In a brief fit of melancholy she took off her pack and sat down where the dead girl lain the night before.

  She looked around and no one was paying any attention to the homeless girl sitting in the middle of the large walking avenue. She knew that to the ordinary people, she was invisible and those that did see her tried their best to ignore her. They were ‘above her.’ She knew that because she’d been just like them in her past life which seemed like years ago instead of just a few months.

  She laid back, where the dead girl had been just hours before, and stared at the blue sky above through the interlaced leaves of the tall Alder and Beech trees that the small conspicuous park signs identified them as. Clouds scudded across the sky occasionally casting more dancing shadow. She could feel the rough pebbling of the asphalt sidewalk under her. She thought back about the girl. Was the last thing she saw the moon over head or the face of her killer? Was she face up or face down when the end came? She turned her head and looked at the asphalt and wondered if the stain came from a trickle of blood from the girl’s nose or mouth. A tear threatened to slip from her eye to crawl across her cheek. She grieved for the unknown girl, knowing that if her own life didn’t change, she’d die just as anonymously. She never intended to be an anonymous nobody. She thought that a harsh and cruel fate.

  A man pushing a trash can with a large sidewalk broom stopped to look at her. His drab gray uniform had patches identifying him as a parks and recreation employee and his name on the other side, “Hank.” On his name, someone had used a ball-point pen and crossed out the ‘a’ in Hank and written in a ‘u’ transforming him into a “hunk.” Charlie laid there looking at the man and the ridiculousness of the situation broke through her sadness and she barked out a laugh and rolled over on her side.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  “Yes, I’m fine.” She stood up. “Did you know a girl was murdered right there last night?” She pointed at the spot where she was laying.

  “No, well, yes, I did hear that someone died in the park last night.”

  “It was right there.”

  He stared at the spot and at the stain, withdrawing a small hand broom from his cart. “Turn around,” he ordered.

  “What?”

  “Turn around, I’ll dust you off.”

  She complied and very much the gentleman, he used the small broom to sweep dust and an errant leaf part from her shoulder. “Thank you, Hank.”

  “You’re very welcome.”

  “Or…should I call you Hunk?”

  He laughed. “My daughter did that the other morning. She didn’t realize that it wouldn’t wash out.”

  “I think it’s adorable. It made my day a whole lot better. You make sure to tell your daughter that it made a sad, homeless girl laugh.”

  His handle-bar mustachioed upper lip curled into a smile. “I’ll tell her exactly what you said.”

  She put her pack back on and put her ball bat in his trash can as he began sweeping at the area with the large broom. He stopped long enough to give her a parting goodbye.

  “You never know when you’ll encounter an angel.” He looked at the bat handle sticking out of the can, “or a ball player.”

  She looked back. “You’re right.” She blew a slow kiss to the spot where the girl died and gave a fingertip wave to the street sweeper.

  Some unknown power had intervened in her day, turning it around. The interaction with Hunk, which made her giggle at every thought of the scrawled “u” on his patch, had lifted a huge weight from her shoulders.

  She remembered doing small things like that for her father and how much fun she had poking fun at him from time to time. He was such a good sport and would endure no ends of humiliation by her machinations and would always act so proudly toward her. She thought back to the hurt look on his face when she told them that she was pregnant. She’d tried many times since then to interpret that look and failed. Was it disappointment? Was he ashamed? Most recently when she considered it, she began to realize that she was wrong about it. Her parents were frightened for her and for what her future held. They loved her.

  The walk to the 8th avenue outlet was less of a burden than her trek into the park the night before. The park was such a beautiful place and under different circumstances was a haven for people to feel safe and enjoy their time outdoors, either alone or with others. To her it was like an oppressive prison that she had to escape. She wanted to stop being a park person, even if for only the one night, and wanted to become a park visitor.

  She crossed the street in the cross-walk, amid the throng of people rushing to get to work. She was an example of contrast amid the suited pedestrians and uniformed police officers that were at the street corners this time of the morning. She stopped at the little Indian-owned news stand and spent $5 on a telephone calling card that claimed to allow calls to India or Mexico for 60 minutes. She’d decided to try and call her parents after she ate some breakfast. Although she wasn’t sure what she would say, she owed it to them to let them know that she was doing fine and not to worry. She also owed it to herself to remind herself from time to time that she really wasn’t alone in the world and did have true roots somewhere.

  • • •

  The door to the church kitchen area was closed and locked. The sign on the door said that there had been a water leak the night before and there wouldn’t be any breakfast served this morning. It also gave directions on how to contact the church administration if you were in desperate need of food and they would make sure you were taken care. She shook her head knowing full well that she wasn’t in desperate need having eaten well the day before. She wouldn’t become more of a parasite on their resources than she already felt. She did understand Man-Charlie’s attitude about wanting to work for is hand-outs. They stopped becoming charity at that time and were earned. He was a proud man at some point in his life and he tried to maintain his pride in his current state of lifestyle disrepair.

  Turning away, she almost runs into a pretty young woman approaching the kitchen. “They’re closed,” she said to her as she passed. “There’s no bacon for any of us this morning.”

  The stranger ignored her at first, and then snapped her fingers. “I know you don’t I? You’re Adrianne’s pin cushion?”

  “Sometimes I am. She says I fit her patterns well.”

  “Me too. I wear them at the shows sometimes. First you wear them, then me. Kind of neat meeting up like this.”

  Charlie realizes that this girl is one of the designers show models. Why would she be here getting a free breakfast when they get paid so well?

  “Are you here for someone?” She asked her.

  “I come here when I can to try and help out. I have a friend who ran away to come to the city. I sort of hope that if I’m here enough, she’ll turn up and I can take her home. The free breakfast is usually awesome besides, just don’t tell anyone you saw me eating any of it!”

  “Wow, you must be a really great friend for her.”

  “I do what I can. I don’t mind the work. The lifting does keep my biceps in shape.”

  Charlie smiles at this. She thinks to herself that
it has to be a full time job to stay looking good like she does. She sticks out her hand to shake. “I’m Charlotte, but my friends call me Charlie.”

  “Hello Charlie!” She shakes her hand warmly. “I’m Angie. My friends just call me Angie.”

  They both laugh for a little while, exchanging gossip about the designers. Soon Angie decides it’s time for her to go to work and try to make a living.

  “Keep up the good work with Adrianne. You two make me look good.”

  “I’ll do that!”

  “You know, you should give modeling a shot. I bet Mrs. K would let you.”

  Charlie waves a hand dismissively, “No, not this kid.” She was inwardly proud to have someone like Angie say that too her.

  “See you around! Say, we could meet up. Do you work here often?” Angie offered.

  Charlie didn’t feel up to sharing her living conditions with her new friend. “Something like that.”

  • • •

  She stopped back by the same news stand that she’d visited earlier and bought a new-age, ultra-healthy, guaranteed to make you live longer type of granola bar. The small stick, the size of a regular candy bar, felt like it weighed a pound. “At least it’ll be filling,” she thought as she tore the wrapper open and bit into the carob coating. She strolled back through the alleyway and saw Mrs. K on her loading dock haggling with someone else. She waved at the older Asian woman.

  “That woman argues with everyone!” Charlie said to herself.

  “You girl! Come here!” she yelled with her exotic accent.

  Charlie walked over to her, “Hi Mrs. K. What’s up?”

  The old woman virtually vaulted down from the four-foot ledge of the loading dock and hugged Charlie fiercely around the neck. Her pancaked makeup was streaked with tears. “I was so worried about you Charlotte love! We heard a girl was killed in park last night.”

  “It wasn’t me! I did go by there not long after it happened though. I met a man you’d really enjoy having coffee with.” She told the older woman about what she saw the night before in the park.

  “I don’t want you sleeping in the park anymore.”

  Charlie blanched, “I don’t sleep in the park?”

  “Isn’t that were all of the park people go?”

  Charlie cringed at the title. She’d been there one time and now Mrs. K was already labeling her that. “Um, Mrs. K. I don’t live in the park.”

  Unbelieving, she pulled Charlie close to her and hugged her again. “Sure you don’t.” She pushed her back at arms-length still holding her by the biceps. “Charlotte you promise me. You promise me that if you need a place to stay, you come find me and let me take care of you. You’re a good girl and a good worker.”

  “Like you did Adrianne?”

  “Yes!” She squealed, “Just like Adrianne. Look at how successful she is now. You let Mrs. K help you when you need it.”

  “Thank you but I don’t have any talent like Adrianne has. She’s amazing. I just happened to fit what she makes.”

  The old woman pulled her close, putting her hand on her stomach, just as her mother did when she last saw her, feeling for the baby inside; only Mrs. K wasn’t looking for a baby. “You too skinny!” She said, “You need to eat more.”

  “I’m fine! I promise.”

  “You promised, now you do it.”

  “I will!” Charlie laughed. “Is Adrianne here yet?”

  “No, I not see her yet this morning. She comes and goes as she pleases lately. She wants to open a boutique over in the new mall.”

  “I know! She told me about how much you were willing to help her. I think it’s great!”

  “Yes, as long as she still design for me, I’ll help her.” Her bright red smeared lips broke into a big smile, “I’m very glad you’re alive Charlotte, but I have to go back to work. You come back and see me soon, okay?”

  “I will Mrs. K!” She gave the woman a quick hug and walked on toward the front street and toward the new fashion mall. She’d hoped to find Adrianne there and ask her about calling her parents. She wanted the other girl’s opinion before she did it. It was natural to want to call home but she was also very nervous about making the call. She’d gone for several months with no contact and was sure that her folks would be justifiably angry. Thinking back now, she regretted putting them through so very much. She realized that her precocious intellect still lacked maturity. Man-Charlie pointed that out to her often, it seemed.

  “They are leaving tonight!” She said out loud to herself. “I can’t forget to go see them.”

  She pushed through the rotating door of the mall, not worrying about her backpack since the security guard now thinks she’s a high-fashion model. She looked around the atrium and didn’t see Adrianne. “She’s probably still at home.”

  Looking at the security guard standing just outside the revolving door, she realized that it wasn’t the same one who eye-flirted with her the previous day. He wore his black blazer like it was a coat of armor, with his chest all puffed out. “I bet he has a kung-fu grip,” she snickered to herself. She couldn’t see if he was armed like the other guy but given the posh element of this mall, he probably was.

  Not knowing if he was going to tolerate her presence or her stares, she quickly made her way to the coffee shop and noticed that the scent of hazel nuts was wafting out. Their smell marketing was very effective because she now wanted some hazel nut coffee and she didn’t even like hazel nuts or coffee. She bought a steaming hot cup of decadent chocolate and an overly large sugar cookie and took it to the “outdoor” café tables to enjoy. She grabbed a local weekly trade newspaper from a nearby table and thumbed through it looking at the pictures of the runway models. “I could do that but I’m too smart.”

  She again chuckled at her own wit. Here she was claiming to be too smart to be a model while she was homeless, surviving off of hot chocolate and sugar cookies, using money she made doing exactly what she claimed to be too smart to do. Oh the irony!

  Finishing her expensive breakfast, she gathered up her pack and made her way toward the bathroom, pulling the door open ready to enjoy the opulence. Instead she was greeted by a smelly man holding a toilet plunger on the way out.

  “Oh sorry, missy, the toilets are out of order for a little while.”

  “What about the sink? I really need to wash my hands.”

  “He looked back in. Just don’t go in that one with the plastic around the bottom. We had some water problems last night.”

  “Yeah that’s contagious.”

  “Huh?”

  They passed in the doorway, her trying hard not to rub against him, not wanting to get any plumber’s by product on her clothes. Despite sleeping in the street and in the park, she had no desire to encounter other people’s waste.

  She washed her hands using the hi-tech sinks, enjoying the experience just like the day before, and looked at the out of order bathroom stall behind her in the mirror over the sink. The plumber had taped a sign on the door that said “out of order” and then taped black plastic all around the bottom of the walls to prevent anything from creeping from the damaged plumbing into the adjoining stalls. She pushed open the stall door and looked in, curious for an entirely unknown reason to look inside at his work.

  The small dressing area was spotless and the only sign he had been there was the black plastic sheeting that was taped to the walls and to the floor. There were a few pieces of galvanized pipe fittings laying on the floor beside the commode fixture, but other than that it was clean. She picked up what looked to be an extra, or scrap, piece of the galvanized pipe fittings. It still had a bar-code sticker on it so she deduced it wasn’t used in sewer. It fit well into her backpack pocket. Now she was stealing
plumbing parts.

  She shrugged and headed back out the door, only to be met by the same plumber, now shouting into a cellphone that the part wouldn’t be available until Monday, two days later and then yelling that he’d just close the stall and come back Monday with the part. She smiled as she walked by. With her friends leaving for Florida tonight, she would sneak back in and spend the night in the dressing room on that cushy bench, at least until he repaired the toilet on Monday, giving her the weekend to herself.

  • • •

  She strode around the corner into the alleyway where she found Man-Charlie, Goliath and Vince sitting on a wooden stair case that serviced a closed Thai restaurant. They all stood up when she approached, each smiling.

  “There you are girlie!” Man-Charlie said walking toward her.

  Goliath grabbed her up and hugged her, not saying a word while Vince stood behind him waiting his turn.

  “We heard a girl was killed last night in the park but the cops wouldn’t tell us who it was and we couldn’t find you.” Vince whined.

  “Girlie, we thought it was you. We were worried.”

  Charlie got defensive and chastised all of them, “If you’re so worried about me, then why are you running off to Florida tonight without me?”

  The other two men looked at Man-Charlie. Goliath asked, “I thought you said she was going to go home to her family?”

  He shrugged. “I tried to convince her and she wouldn’t listen to me?

  “Then she needs to come with us.” Vince piped up. “She can’t be here with a murderer running around.”

  “Since when do I need you guys to make decisions for me like I’m not standing here?” She fumed. She put her hand in her pocket and pulled out the calling card and showed them. “Know what this is?” They just looked on.

  “It’s a calling card. I’m going to call my mom in a little while.”

  “There ya go Girlie! You call your mama and papa. You tell them where you are.”

  She whirled on Charlie and pointed a finger at him, “don’t you lie to them either. I told you I could buy a ticket to go to Florida with you.”

  Vince whined on, “But you won’t. You don’t want to be with us.”

  Charlie knew that Vince had a crush on her but he could really push too hard at times. “It’s not about that Vince. I wasn’t invited and I was also told you didn’t want me to be with you all.”

  “You are supposed to go home to your family.” Goliath said. “You have a family. You have to go home. It’s not fair.” She realized that Goliath was upset. She didn’t really know anything about him. He as always just “there.” He was ever present and always just the quiet sentinel. She put her hand on his large cheek and wiped away an eyelash with her thumb.

  “Big guy, you’ve always been so good to me. You’ve never asked for anything. I don’t even know your real name.” He blinked his eyes but stayed silent. “I know you always look out for me.”

  “Girlie, we have to leave at nine. I hope you make that call soon. I’ll feel better knowing that you won’t be on the street tonight.”

  She couldn’t help but give Man-Charlie a malevolent look even though she knows in her heart that he only wants what is best for her. It made her heart hurt for the second time in a day. It doesn’t do to be so emotional all the time living on the streets. “I’m going to go make my call.”

  Putting her pack back on, she waved a goodbye to the guys. “I’ll try to make it to see you off tonight at the bus station. If not, enjoy your fun in the sun.” She was overly cheerful and obviously faking it as she walked toward the corner.

  “Hey Charlotte!” Goliath yelled to her.

  She stopped and waited.

  “It’s Bill! My name is Bill!”

  She gave him a cheerful smile and a large wave, “It’s nice to meet you Bill.”

  The other two looked at Goliath. They never knew his real name either.

  • • •

  The electronic voice prompted her to push the buttons. “For English press the number one. En Espanol oprima dos” She pressed the one button. “Please enter your sixteen digit calling code followed by the pound sign.” She followed the directions of the computerized operator and put in all of the numbers necessary to call her mom and dad. The voice said, “Please hold,” followed by several clicks and then the phone on the other end began to ring.

  Charlie could feel her blood pressure going up right along with her anxiety of talking to her mother. She secretly hoped that they weren’t at home and the answering machine would pick up, just as much as she wanted to talk to them. The phone continued to ring, three rings, four rings, five rings, then a click and another voice came on the line. She recognized it as her mother’s but she sounded so desperate.

  “Please leave a message after the beep. Charlotte, honey, if it’s you, please let me know where you are. Your father and I are so worried about you. We haven’t heard from you in so long and we are so worried about you.” Twice she said she was worried. Charlie felt terrible as the message continued. Her father came on the recording taking the telephone away from her mother who could be heard sobbing in the background. “Punkin, please call us. We don’t care what has happened. We love you and want you home.” A beep sounded, telling her it was her turn to leave a message.

  She waited for a few breaths, not sure what she was supposed to say.

  “Uh, hi, it’s me, Charlotte. First, I’m very sorry I haven’t called in a long time. I am ok. You don’t have to worry. Uh, I’ll call, I’ll call you back another time.” She quickly hanged the pay phone receiver into its cradle and took a really deep breath.

  “They sounded so desperate to find me and to hear from me. Good grief, that message had been on their machine for no telling how long. How many people, over the months, had listened to them begging their ill-behaved and disrespectful daughter to call?” She thought to herself.

  She felt about two inches tall and she understood what if felt like to feel small. What had they done to ever deserve to be treated like that? She made up her mind to call them tomorrow after the guys were gone to Florida and then just let whatever happened, happen.

  She realized that she had yet to take her hand off of the telephone receiver. It felt like if she released her hand from it, her contact with her family would be forever severed. She took another deep breath and let go, putting her chin to her chest. She promised to call back tomorrow. Maybe the guys were right. Maybe it was time to go home after all.

  The bus station was brightly lit and Charlie didn’t feel up to going to say goodbye to the guys and listening to their lecturing and whining about her needing to have already gone home. She walked around outside and looked through the windows a few times. She heard Vince’s voice before she saw them and she ducked back into a shadow, letting them walk past. They were all wearing new T-shirts and not wearing coats.

  “Those bozos really aren’t coming back. They aren’t even taking their coats with them,” she observed. They stood around the door for a few minutes but the chill in the air drove them inside. They had over an hour to go before their bus left and she didn’t want to watch them stand around.

  Man-Charlie went to the ticket window and then called the other two over to him. They all reached for their pockets. “Pony up boys,” she imagined him to be telling them, “I am not paying for your tickets too.” They each handed the attendant some cash and their IDs and then brought back their tickets.

  They stood around in a small circle at first, looking around, probably not sure what to do with themselves for the next hour. Charlie saw Man-Charlie look straight at her, but she knew he didn’t see her outside, even if the eye contact looked right through her. They turned and went through the metal detecto
r and let the agent there wand them with a hand held detector. She saw Vince make a comment to the agent and then step back quickly. Yes, a smart comment had to have been made.

  She went back out under the street lights to make her way to the fashion mall before they locked the doors a nine. She was getting used to approaching that building and wondered if Adrianne would hire her to work in her boutique when it opened. She quickly dismissed that idea because she knew in her heart that when she called home again in the morning, her parents would convince her to come home. Or, she wondered, had she already convinced herself?

  She slipped through the revolving door, apparently avoiding the attention of any of the security guards and made her way to the coffee shop where she bought a bottle of chilled coffee for way too much and a stale sugar cookie, probably from the same batch she bought the one that morning, again for way too much. She watched the security cameras panning back and forth and then slipped unobserved into the bathroom, quickly pulling the door open and slipping inside.

  She looked under the doors of all of the stalls and saw no feet. Good, she was alone. She opened the door of the stall that was out of order and stuck her pack and coat in there on the bench. She then went into an adjoining stall to take advantage of the working toilet. While she was in there, the lights overhead dimmed slightly and she heard a canned but melodious voice over the public address system, “The venue will be closing in fifteen minutes. We ask that all patrons and visitors conclude your business and exit the building. Have a pleasant night and we hope you will visit us again.”

  “Good,” She thought, “in fifteen minutes, I’ll have the place to myself.” She finished up her business and went into the other stall to hide. The plastic sheeting taped to the floor would protect her from being seen from below. She locked the door to the changing area and was surprised to find a double lock. She turned them both. These people didn’t take any chances did they?

  Chapter 3