Free as a Bird (15 page)

After that I curled up in a ball like Thomas the cat — that's cause I had a new friend an a dry place to sleep.

chapter 9

After that night Mabel showed me lots bout lookin after myself. Like how ya gotta find lotsa places to sleep at night jus in case somebody else gets there first or the police make you move. She tole me I gotta find places to stash my stuff too — cept I dint have no stuff. An she helped me find a big cardboard box too.

“Boxes are real nice to have now that it's starting to get cold. You better find a place to hide it, though — bound to be somebody try and steal a good box like this.”

So far I got two good places for sleepin — the toilet at Pigeon Park an hind the Bamboo Smoke Shop in Chinatown. But the place I like sleepin best is with Mabel under the stairs — when she lets me.

“The homeless own this city at night,” Mabel told me. “It's the only time nobody bothers us. We can sleep on the sidewalk or under bridges during a storm or even on the steps of the opera house when it's minus weather. And I shouldn't forget to mention garbage dumpsters — they can make a good place too when it's cold. Only, don't let yourself stay too long, like Loose Change Charlie. He didn't wake up on time one morning and got dumped into a garbage truck — poor old guy got crushed to death. Even sadder was how nobody noticed he was missing till his broken old body came tumbling out at the city dump.”

Nother thing Mabel showed me was how to get to the Hastings Street Drop-In on Cordova. “It's okay in a real pinch,” she said. “But you don't wanna go unless you absolutely have to … like when it's freezing cold. Some people think we homeless will take anything, but even we got our limits.”

Mabel started coughin an it got so bad I thought maybe she was gunna stop breathin. After lot more gaggin she finally spat out a big glob on the sidewalk.

“Phew! Now that's better. So anyway … what was I sayin? Oh, yeah — homeless shelters … got too many rules, that's for sure. Besides that they're dangerous — just about every time I stay in one I get robbed or get lice or some kind of disease. Fact, I got this bad chest cold last time I stayed at the mission. That's nearly four months ago — can't seem to shake it.” Then she started coughin some more.

I usually went for somethin to eat at the church soup kitchen. But sometimes me an Mabel sat on the sidewalk an begged for money. When we did that we got to eat at McClucks or got a hot dog from Ernie's On-the-Go. Mabel always kept the money we dint spend on dinner.

“Let's face it, kid, the only reason people give us so much is because I'm brilliant at looking pathetic. I've got just the right sad and hungry look that makes them feel bad. It's only fair I should get to keep what's left over — you know, for being so talented.”

I dint understand all Mabel said bout bein brilliantly pathetic, an I dint care if she kept the money neither. That's cause she was good to me — yup, she showed me lotsa things an she was my friend. An whenever I got money of my own she let me buy things off her — like my cushion an my Panasonic radio.

“Best radio ever made,” Mabel told me.

I liked bein able to rest in the park with all em other homeless people — my head on a nice soft pillow an listenin to country music. Sometimes I wondered if maybe Norval was listenin too.

Nother thing I bought off Mabel was a red backpack. It looked lot like the one Pops gave me — cept it was dirty an the zipper was broke. I could put my blanket an pillow an radio inside an carry it on my back.

Some days me an Mabel was late gettin to the soup kitchen. If that happened we'd go to the alcholics meetin at the church an get juice an cookies. They served hot drinks too while the preacher talked bout God.

One mornin I crawled out from hind the Bamboo Smoke Shop an was hungry — yup, hungry as could be. I told myself, better get over to the soup kitchen fore they run oudda food. It was a good thing I got there on time cause they was givin out hot sausage rolls an tea that mornin … an boy oh boy, it was licious. Dint see Mabel round.

I came back for lunch after spendin time at the park — they was handin out cheese sandwiches an for a extra treat Sister Irene gave out chocolate cake. That was awful licious too. Funny thing, I still dint see Mabel.

I decided to walk round an look for her. Went down Hastings an saw Betsy an John outside the liquor store. Saw Dean too — he was playin guitar for the people out front of the library. An there was Harsh too — collectin money in his tin cup. I went through Gastown an passed Woodwards Store too. But still dint see Mabel — nope, dint see her no where.

It was gettin dark an my tummy told me it was supper time. So I went back to the church soup kitchen an got in line hind Mr. and Mrs. Fay. That night we had tomato soup an bakin biscuits. They was good biscuits, but not so good as Nan's. I slept in the toilet at Pigeon Park, but I was lonely thinkin bout Mabel.

Nex day I went lookin for her gain at some of her best sleepin places — like the Hastings Street parkin lot … hind Fung's Dim Sum restaurant … an the stairwell in the old furniture factory. But still dint find her.

I membered that Mabel told me once she was a nutso. “I can't explain why or how it happens. All I know is now and then I get depressed — and trust me, kid, when I get like that you don't wanna be around me. Heck, I don't even wanna be around me.” She showed me some red marks on her arms. “See these? Got one for every time I've tried to check out of this place. The really crazy thing is that people keep saving my worthless life.”

After Mabel showed me her messed-up arms I showed her my messed-up hands. I had jus as many red marks from scratchin myself year after year. Funny thing bout that … I dint do that so much anymore.

“I can see you weren't a happy camper either, eh? That why you don't talk?” I nodded. “Ever been an inmate at Riverview?” I dint knowed bout Riverview. But there was a river ran passed Woodlands — maybe it was the same one as Riverview.

“Well, it was … twelve years ago. They had me locked up with all the other poor wretches on permanent mental vacation. But the first chance I had to get out of that place … zoom … I was gone. And I've been living on the streets ever since just so they don't catch up to me and put me back there. I guess you could say that's the best part of having no fixed address — nobody can find ya if ya don't wanna be found.”

Mabel told me when she got those dark feelins inside her head she jus hadda be by herself. I wondered if that's how come I dint see her round lately. Boy, I sure missed Mabel — not as much as Nan an Pops — but all the same, she was my friend. I tried real hard not to think bout her or Nan an Pops, cause it jus made me feel awful bad.

It rained that day an after supper too. I got a idea I should sleep in Mabel's best spot — under the stairs at Pioneer Laundry — jus so's nobody else come an move in there. When I got as far as the park I was surprised cause I could see Mabel's cart cross the street. It wasn't there earlier. At first I got so excited my hands an heart started flappin bout. But when I got closer I thought it sure was awful funny that her cart was turned over an all her things dumped out on the ground. Her best blanket was in the dirt, her heart-shaped box smashed flat, an everythin else thrown round. That wasn't like Mabel to let her stuff get messed up. Then I noticed something else — all thrown round were pictures. I bent over an picked em up. That's when I figured somethin pecular was goin on. Those pictures was of me — yup, me an Gramma at Christmas, me with Nan an Pops at the park, an nother one of me an the Ward 33 kids on Canada Day. I wondered how come Mabel had those pictures. Jus then I heard some moanin from under the stairs. I looked inside to see who it was.

“Kid, is that you?”

Mabel was there, but she dint sound so good. I crawled in an sat side her. She had a big cut on her head an bruises on her face too.

“I was praying you'd find me. I've been robbed, kid.” Mabel sniffled an moaned. “The thieving swine dumped my cart and took my money and other things too. I tried to stop them, but they hit me. I fell down and hurt my head.” She closed her eyes an sniffled some more. She dint want me to see she was cryin. “I feel like I'm startin to black out again … I need help … please … you gotta get help.” Then Mabel's hand flopped onto the ground an she stopped movin. I tapped her shoulder, but she dint say nothin — nope, nothin a'tall.

I got awful scared after that — that's cause Mabel looked jus like Gramma fore the amblance took her to heaven. I sat there stabbin at my hands, an priddy soon I was cryin too — yup, cryin like a liddle baby. Couldn't understand why all the people I cared bout kept leavin me — Gramma, Grace, Pops … and now Mabel too. An there was never nothin I could do bout it … nope, I guess on account of me not bein so smart.

“Retard,” I told myself. “Why'd you ever get borned, anyway?” I dug my fingernails into myself as hard as I could cause I was mad an hated myself for not bein like other people.

Jus then Mabel whispered, “You gotta get help … please, go get help.”

After that Mabel went all quiet gain an I sat there feelin awful sad — yup, cause I knowed there was nothin I could do to help my friend. For some reason I membered what Gramma used to say bout me bein a precious gift from God.

I said to myself, “Gramma, I was never really precious — nope, not a'tall. And I could never be a gift from God neither on account of me not bein so smart.”

I waited to hear Morris and Millie in my head sayin, “That's right, she's nothing but a retard.” But that dint happen. Instead it was Gramma's voice.

She told me, “Ruby Jean Sharp, it's time you stopped feeling sorry for yourself. It doesn't matter what others think of you or if they call you names or if they don't know how precious you are — you'll just have to know it all by yourself. And anyway, there are plenty of people who see your true worth — like Grace and Nan and Pops and Mrs. Gentry … and Mabel too. But right now she needs your help. You're the only one who can do it, Ruby Jean.”

I sat up straight an wiped away all em tears. I tried real hard to think what I could do to help Mabel. It was hard cause Morris kept tryin to get back inside my head by callin me names. But I told him to shut up. And that's when I got a idea — yup, I knowed what I hadda do. I patted Mabel real gentle.

“Don't worry, Mabel. I'm comin back.” I crawled out from under the stairs an ran fast as I could — I hadda get to the church an find Sister Irene.

When I got there the soup kitchen door was closed up tight an nobody was round — nope, nobody. I banged an banged an banged on the door for a long time, but nobody came. I said to myself, “Okay, Ruby Jean, now what ya gunna do?”

Then I got nother idea — yup, the idea was tellin me to run round to the front of the church an up the stairs to the big wooden doors. I never been inside that church at night an I was fraid. But I dint stop — nope, I pulled hard as I could on em heavy doors till they opened enough for me to squeeze through. When I got inside — boy oh boy — I dint like how dark it was in there.

At first I was frozen to the spot. I had a hard time breathin too — I guess on account of I was scared. But then I heard Gramma inside my head again. “Mabel needs your help and you're the only one who can do it.” I knowed she was right, so even if my legs dint want to I made em move forward into that dark place.

At first I dint see nothin — nope, only blackness. But slowly it stopped bein so dark in there an I could see somethin shiny. It was comin from the priddy glass windows an the big Jesus hangin on the gold cross. I knowed it wasn't the real Jesus.

It took an awful lotta tryin, but I finally called out, “Sssister … sssister … Sister Irene?” At first my voice was so quiet even I could hardly hear myself. I tried again — louder. “Ssister Irene, Mmmabel needs you! Sister? Help!” Suddenly, the church wasn't dark no more — that's cause somebody put on the lights.

“What's the matter, child? Why are you calling for Sister Irene?”

I turned round an saw a lady wearin the same black scarf an dress as Sister Irene. “Mmmabel … it's Mmmabel. Shhhhe's sick … nnneeds help … Sssister Irene gotta come help her.”

“Try to calm yourself, dear. It sounds like we need an ambulance. I'll call 911. Where is your friend?”