I don’t mind. I can walk and eat.
Laughter caught my ears. I glanced at a table two down from where I stood, where four teenage girls sat. My lips twitched to share in their joke as I looked at what they were laughing at. Horror slammed into me instead.
They sneered and giggled at an elderly homeless man picking up aluminum cans in a trash bag.
I ached for him and the hopelessness of his situation. He was fully aware of the jokes and whispers, doing his best to ignore the girls as he chased a can caught in a puff of wind.
I’d been on the opposite end of homelessness all my life. I’d been born into a role that would ensure I’d never know the pain of cold and hunger. I’d been given so much, and what had I done? I’d run away for the night like an unappreciative teenager.
What was I thinking?
Embarrassment coated my insides. I couldn’t look at the clothes I’d taken from Belle Elle or the food I’d bought with money grabbed from the till. Things I had every right to use but somehow felt like I’d stolen and broken my father’s trust.
The girls continued to laugh as a can rolled out of the man’s trash bag through a tear in the bottom.
I wanted to slap them for their immaturity and lack of empathy. I wanted to forget I’d ever thought I wanted to be a typical girl rather than who I truly was: a capable young woman who would never stand by while another was ridiculed.
Marching toward the homeless man who knocked on fifty (Dad’s age) with a scruffy gray beard and holey beanie, I stopped and picked up the can. “Here you go.”
He froze.
The way he watched with trepidation and suspicion lacerated my heart. His entire body waited for abuse, fearing what other misfortune I’d bring into his life.
“It’s okay.” I urged him to take the dinged-up can.
He did, reluctantly.
Once he’d tucked the can into his bag, I looked at the gauntness in his face and the way he licked his lips at my burritos.
My own hunger vanished.
“Here.” I pushed the plastic bag containing the water and chocolate milk, followed by the burritos, into his arms. “You have them. I’ve only taken one bite. I’m not contagious, I promise.”
His mouth fell open as he cradled the icy drinks and hot food.
Awkwardness fell and tears I didn’t understand itched my spine. The look in his eyes was full of shock and utter gratefulness.
He quickly stuffed the food into the baggy pockets of his jacket and swigged the half-empty chocolate milk until it was gone. Wiping his lips with the back of his hand, he murmured, “Thank you.”
I smiled. “You’re welcome.”
I knew it was time to leave. But I couldn’t walk away—not yet.
Pulling my wallet out, I took the twenties, minus eighty dollars for me (as emergency funds to get home), and placed them into his hand. “Please, have this as well. Eat and have a night in a hotel somewhere.”
He curled his fingers tightly around the money. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything.” I stepped away. “Have a good night. And I’m sorry for those girls laughing at you. That’s terribly rude. We’re not all like that.”
He blinked as if coming out of a fugue.
“Goodbye.” I walked away feeling better and happier than I had in...well, forever.
Chapter Six
ELEVEN P.M. AND the novelty of walking around a bustling city had begun to wear.
I didn’t want to spend any more money on food—just in case a taxi cost over eighty. I had no idea how much transportation would be to get home.
My feet ached from all the miles I’d traveled. My back hurt from not being used to standing. And the crowd steadily became less polite and more disorderly as the night grew later.
The jostling of limbs and pushiness made me nervous, and thoughts of returning to a quiet bedroom where I knew who I was and how to play by the rules enticed me.
Stepping from the curb, I shot across the road (narrowly missing a speeding car), and stood on the corner where a pile of rubbish had gathered from passing pedestrians and shop-fronts ready for collection.
I looked up and down the road, hoping to see the yellow glint of a cab. I hated that only a few hours into my bid for freedom, I already wanted to go home. I truly was a boring girl like the food vendor had said.
But at least I’d explored on my own.
I know now I’m not missing anything.
I can put my childish whims behind me and agree the grass is not greener on the other side.
I stood for a few minutes, waiting for a ride but nothing came. Deciding to change my position, I joined the crowds again and carried on a little further. Once the congestion thinned out, I stood in front of a small alley and resumed my search.
Left, right, look and hope.
I stayed in place so I could raise my arm quickly the moment I spotted a cab.
The world faded around me as I focused on waiting for a ride. The allure of soft sheets and quiet rooms helped delete the chaos I’d been a part of for a few short hours.
I didn’t notice the two men at first.
Perhaps I was too naïve or blind, but I didn’t expect a hand to lash around my elbow on both sides—two men crowding me between them.
My heart leaped into my throat, gagging me from screaming.
My eyes popped with disbelief as they jerked me backward into the alley.
No!
I didn’t comprehend what was happening.
Let me go!
I’d never been handled with such force before.