Authors: Julie Frayn
Caraleen twirled the twisted phone cord between her fingers while she paced the kitchen floor.
“Hello? Hello?” Damn it, just clicks and static. How long did it take to get a damned reporter on the phone?
“Freeman here.”
“Finally! I’ve been on hold for fifteen minutes.”
“Sorry ma’am. What can I do you for?”
“My daughter is in your city. The sheriff has done all he can from here and your police department have all of her information.”
“All right then. Where are you calling from?”
“We’re on a farm not far out of Hubble Falls.”
“Hubble what?”
“Falls.” Caraleen took a deep breath. She would not yell at this man, would not risk her chance to get August’s picture in the Charlesworth Herald. “About three hundred miles west of you.”
“How old is she?”
“Sixteen. Seventeen in just over a month.”
“Oh. Was she abducted?”
“No.” The tremors she had under control overtook her hands again.
“I see. That’s not exactly front page news, ‘teenager runs away.’ Is she special somehow?”
“Of course she’s special!”
“No, ma’am. I mean different, handicapped, gifted. Some angle I can work into the story.”
“Why do you need an angle to search for a missing girl? A girl that’s never been farther than twenty miles from her home?”
“All right, I can work with that. Let me boot up and I’ll get the details from you. Can you email me a picture?”
“We don’t have a computer.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
Caraleen sighed and rested her forehead against the wall. “No, I’m not.”
For more than a week the heat was unbearable and nighttime brought little relief. Despite the swelter, August and Reese found any reason – or no reason at all – to touch. Holding hands, sitting in the park, or walking, his arm always around her shoulder or waist. He reached for her when they drifted, like he was protecting her. Or staking out his territory. But he never made any other move. Never groped her or urged her to do things she wasn’t ready for. Except she was ready now. He hadn’t even tried to kiss her again. He seemed to keep missing her constant cues.
She came to appreciate back alley cuisine. Almost anything was better than the pain of constant hunger. On a good day there were whole pieces of fruit or entire sandwiches that had no bite marks. Reese always let her have those. He said he was used to eating food that had first touched a stranger’s mouth.
One day August awoke to gooseflesh, chills, and pouring rain. She inhaled the smell of wet earth. She shut her eyes and was momentarily home. Wet hay, wet corn, wet Jack, even wet cow dung filled her mind. The farm smelled so sweet after a good downpour - even wet manure was a familiar comfort. But the best part was mud fights with her sisters. Even her dad would join in sometimes. Her mother hated those fights.
She smiled, then opened her eyes to the underside of a bridge deck and a glum and grey sky.
Reese sat up next to her. “Ah hell. I hate rain.” He went into the bush and came back with his jacket on. He laid her hoodie over her. “No Dumpster diving today.”
“Why not?”
“Most of the time they don’t close the lids so everything will be mush.”
“What do we do for food?”
“Don’t worry. There’s always a way. You won’t go hungry.”
They ran through the sopping street and stopped outside an all-night diner, their jackets soaked through. He opened the door for her and she stepped into the warm space, bacon and cinnamon filled the air. She slipped off her hood and shook her head to release wet hair from her cheeks.
He dug in his pocket and handed her two dollar bills.
“You sit there by the window. That should buy you a couple of cups of coffee so they don’t throw you out. I’ll be back soon.”
“Are you going to ‘work’ again?” She sat in a booth and crossed her arms.
“That’s the plan. Unless you want to just not eat for a couple of days, depending on how long the rain lasts.”
She sighed and slid down in the seat.
“All right.”
He leaned over her and kissed her damp hair, then ran out into the rain, jogged down the street and disappeared from view.
A waitress stopped beside her asked what she wanted.
“Tea?”
“That’s it? No food?”
“Not yet. I’m waiting for someone.”
The waitress huffed. “Sure you are.” She walked away and nodded at a man who had just entered the diner.
“How much?”
August looked up. The man stood next to her, a ball cap pulled low, his shoulders hunched, hands inside the pockets of his windbreaker.
“I beg your pardon?”
The man glanced side to side. “How much?” he said through grit teeth.
“For what?”
The waitress came up behind him. “Okay, out. You too little lady. None of that business in this diner.”
The man brushed past the waitress and stepped out into the rain. He glared at August through the window on his way by.
August looked from him to the waitress. “What business?”
“Go pick up tricks on the corner like the rest of them.”
August stared at her. “I wasn’t doing that. I’m not a prostitute.”
“Yeah, sure you aren’t.” the waitress rolled her eyes and walked away.
Two hours later, after another tea bag and three hot water refills, the last of her weak drink was gone. But still no Reese.
“A dollar eighty three.” The waitress slid the bill on the table by her elbow. “Pay at the counter.”
“I have to wait just a bit longer.”
“Look, we’ve got paying customers who want to eat. You go wait outside.”
“I’ll have a burger with everything. Fries too. And a Coke.” Reese stood behind the waitress, his hair soaked. The aroma of soap and shampoo cut through the pungency of his wet clothes. “What do you want, August?”
She beamed at him, then turned to the waitress and smirked. “I’ll have the same please.”
The waitress looked at Reese. “You got cash?”
“Of course.”
“Fine. Two burgers coming up.”
He took off his jacket, shook it and hung it on a hook on the end of the booth. He slid into the seat across from her and pulled napkins from the dispenser, running them over his hair, then squeezed dripping rain out of the long ends.
In no time the waitress came back, a big tray balanced on one palm. She slid the food and drinks in front of them, grabbed bottles of ketchup and mustard from a nearby station and deposited them on in the middle of the table.
August took a huge bite of her burger. Melted cheese, tangy tomato, and hot onion married the meat and ground joyfully in her mouth. Never had food tasted so good, elevated to a religious experience. Fresh burgers were heaven. Used sandwiches, hell.
With her stomach on its way to sated and Reese close by, all other concerns melted away.
They ate in silence. Reese stared at her while he ate fries one at a time, each drenched in ketchup.
She stared right back at him. His blue eyes flashed and sparkled, even on the glummest day. Her entire body flushed with warmth. Sometimes he stared with such intensity that she couldn’t hold his gaze. But in that moment she couldn’t look away.
He wiped his mouth with a napkin and reclined in the corner of the booth. One long leg rested on the seat, his ankle and foot hanging off the end.
“So, tell me again why you’re here?”
“To eat great burgers.”
“Seriously. I know you said your mother drives you nuts, but there’s got to be a better reason to come here and be alone.”
“I’m not alone.”
He smiled. “No. Not now. But you could have been. What was so bad? I mean, no offense, but Ricki was right. You’re not one of us.”
She shoved three fries in her mouth at once, stared out the window at the pouring rain, and chewed slowly. “Not much reason I guess. Nothing like Tanya had to deal with. And probably nothing like you did.” She turned back and looked at him. “I know your mom died, but don’t you have family or something? Why are you here?”
“I was born here.” He grinned, sat forward and took one of her hands in his. His smile disappeared. “I have an aunt somewhere. She gave up on Mom when I was four. She wanted me to go live with her, but I wouldn’t. I wanted to be with my mother. Then.”
“Not later?”
“She was a total addict. I didn’t matter to her. I was… ” He stared out the window and chewed his bottom lip. “Let’s just say I was useful to her. She needed me. But she didn’t love me. Didn’t take care of me. Hell she didn’t even feed me.”
“She must have loved you.” August ran one finger across the scars on his forearm. “All mothers love their children. In their own weird way.”
“You’d think so. But no. She didn’t. So when she died, I left. Been in foster care before and that sucked. Better off alone.”
She smiled at him and entwined her fingers in his. “You’re not alone.”
The waitress appeared at their side and started clearing dishes. “Anything else?”
“A piece of apple pie with ice cream, please.” Reese squeezed August’s hand. “And two forks.”
Reese pulled August along, dashing from the shelter of one awning to the next. He stopped under the last one and stared ahead at three blocks of unprotected sidewalk. Rain fell in sheets from the storefronts.
He lit a cigarette and leaned against the building. With weather like this, not even under the bridge would be dry. He’d have to hunt for new cardboard. That old stuff would be stinking from muck and mold before it ever dried out. “Maybe we ought to crash at Harmony House tonight.”
“What’s Harmony House?” August rubbed her hands up and down her arms.
He put one arm around and her pulled her close. “It’s a shelter for homeless kids. We can have a shower. They even give you t-shirts and shoes if you need them. I go there when I’ve grown out of stuff. Beds are crap, but it’s better than the cold, wet ground.”
Better than the top floor of the condemned building he used to shoot up in and wait out the rain. It was a haven when he was floating on speedballs – a cold, concrete cell that stunk of human waste when he was sober.
“Why don’t we just stay there all the time?”
“Because they’re a religious joint. I mean, they’re nice and all, but eventually they try to save you. I don’t need to be saved.”
Four blocks and a good drenching later, they stepped into the busy lobby of the shelter. Guy, Amber, and Ricki were ahead of them in line. When Reese whistled, they all looked up.
“Reese-man, where the hell have you been the past two days?” Guy walked over and they clasped hands.
Reese put his arm around August. Her shoulders trembled. “We’ve just been hanging. Is there enough room?”
“It’s pretty tight, but you might get lucky.” He looked at August and faux-punched her arm. “Or maybe you already did.”
Reese pushed him out of line. “Fuck off, you perv.”
At the front of the line an overweight woman sat at a counter with a sign-in book. “Name?” she said without looking up.
“Peter Parker.”
She glanced up, one eyebrow raised. “Using alter egos now? Not Batman today?” The woman grinned and shook her head. “You still seventeen?”
“Yes Mother Mary. Until January.”
“I’m not your mother, sweetheart. Sign here. How about you, dear, what’s your name?”
“August Ba
i
”
“She’s Mary Jane Watson.”
“Sure she is. Seventeen too?”
“Sixteen.” August said.
“Sign here.” The woman looked at Reese. “The rooms are full. You’ll have to sleep on mats in the common area. Girls on the left, boys on the right.”
She handed them each a pillow, a blanket, and a sandwich. They walked through a double door into a large room filled with mats lined up side by side. The smell of wet clothes and dirty teenagers permeated the air.
August tugged on his sleeve. “Why did you lie about our names?”
“Because if anyone is looking for you, they’ll find you.” He scanned the room until he found Amber’s shining hair near the back wall. “Let’s see if we can get a spot with the family.”
He grabbed her hand and pushed his way through dozens of kids. Most of them were familiar faces, long time street runners. But a few newbies stood out from the crowd – the ones who looked confused, scared, and alone.
He slid on the concrete. His damp sneakers sent an ear piercing screech through the room. He dropped onto a mat between Ricki and Guy, pulling August down beside him. “I call this one. Ricki, move over, let August have that one.”
Ricki grunted. “Fuck you, I got here first. What’s the matter, can’t be an extra five feet from her, lover boy?”
“Stuff it, Rick.”
“Stuff it yourself, dick.”
Amber sat cross-legged on a mat kitty-corner across a narrow aisle. “Now, now children, play nice. Come on Ricki, move.”
“Fine. Here princess, take mine. Please.”
“Thanks, I think.” August sat up. “What’s that yellow line about?”
“Magic force field,” Ricki said. “Keeps Romeo from feeling you up all night.”
“It’s because there’s supposed to be separate rooms for guys and girls.” Reese sat up and took August’s hand. “But on nights like this, there’s not enough space. The line keeps us apart.”
“Yeah?” August raised one eyebrow. “How’s that working for them?”
He smiled. “There’ve been… incidents.”
Amber stood and stretched. “I’m going to grab a shower. Maybe see if there’s some new threads. August, you want to come with?”
“Sure she does. Me too.” Reese stood and offered August his hand.
They dug through the used clothes and chose t-shirts and jackets. Mary approached Reese with a folded pair of jeans.
“Here you go, superhero boy. These longs came in and I thought of you.”
“Thanks, Mary. You’re a peach. Now I can trash these shitty things.”
Mary placed a hand on his sleeve “Yeah. Just don’t be so hard on them, less cutting, okay?” She patted his shoulder and walked away.
He turned back to find August watching him, her face softer than usual. Her eyes were so green, her skin so clear. He looked down at his feet.
“She really cares for you,” she said.
“I’ve been staying here off and on for years. I guess you get used to some people.”
“Yeah.” Amber held a shirt up and inspected it. “And they still don’t know your real name.”