Page 31

TIME PASSED slowly and in a hurry at the same time. Whatever pill Dennis had given me made it possible for me to stop thinking for a few moments. A lot of moments. I don’t know how much time went by or what happened before the sun went behind the highway, but I didn’t care.

The camp was not a place I wanted to live, but I had a feeling it wouldn’t be long before Felix and I made the move. I hadn’t counted my stash in a few days, but it had gone fast.

The regular crowd gathered at the motel. Because we lived there, Felix and I had become regulars, too. Of course, we had too much to drink—it was our MO. It hadn’t been a conscious decision, but something that had organically happened.

Loud exhaust identified a familiar truck as it slowed beside the ladies on the corner. No one paid attention until Brenda screamed for help. Everyone in our circle turned to find the man struggling to drag her to his vehicle. With his arm around her waist, he pulled, and she kicked.

“Help! Someone, help me!”

I stayed put while Dennis and his friends approached the guy. There was no need to let my anger get the better of me. Unless they really needed help. They scuffled for a minute before Brenda broke away from the man’s embrace.

She hid behind Felix and her friend. “That’s the asshole who raped me last week.”

“You can’t rape a whor—”

Dennis’ fist connected with the man’s jaw before he was able to complete the sentence. “Didn’t you learn anything from the last time you were here?” Last week Dennis had pulled this same man out of the passenger side of a different car because he harassed Brenda’s friend.

The next five minutes contained a cluster of fists, loud voices, and blood. Thuds from punches thrown, then a scream before the loud snap of a breaking bone filled the air.

Felix attempted to pull Dennis out of the mix but was unsuccessful. I rushed in and was able to separate everyone. Before the police could arrive, the crowd had dispersed. With nothing to investigate and no one to admit to a crime, the cops took off with only the names of bystanders.

“All right, y’all. You need to leave. Now.” The owner of the motel kicked everyone out of the parking lot.

Felix and I crossed the lot to chill on the steps, but Quinn wasn’t having it.

“All of you. Out.”

Confused, I frowned.

“Get your shit. You’re out.” He stood with his hands on his hips, not willing to negotiate.

“For good?”

He nodded one. Finality.

Dennis had watched from afar and followed us up the steps to our room.

“Let me help. Y’all can stay at my place.”

FOUR HUNDRED dollars. I arrived in Dallas with close to three thousand; less than two months later, all I had to my name was four hundred.

Shit . How in the hell did I blow through that much money?

Whiskey, food, pills. Repeat. I did pay for a lot of Felix’s food and drinks, but still, I should have at least a thousand.

I stopped counting a few weeks back. Double shit.

Goodwill had a store a few blocks to the east, Dennis led the way. We found a two-person tent, some camping supplies, and a couple of tarps. They were ripped but they would work.

As Dennis suggested, I kept my cash on me in three different places: my front pocket, sock, underwear. I bought what I knew I would need to live outside, just like in Alaska but warmer. Sleeping bag, containers to keep things dry, and a backpack big enough to store and carry a whole lot of stuff.

As we passed the liquor store, I bought two fifths of whiskey; if others in the community shared, I wanted to be sure we could repay the kindness to our new neighbors.

On the first day in our new home, we set up the tent and made our space as non-homeless as possible. After only an hour, we were finished.

Dennis walked us around the neighborhood and introduced us to some of the other folks.

The commentary while we walked from one person to the next explained if the person was good or not so good.

“Not everyone has your back, out here.” He warned us to be careful.

“You’ll need those eyes on the back of your head. ”

“I'm not sure if anyone uses their real names, because who would name their kid Griffin? Seriously. That, to me, sounds like something you would name your dog, but what do I know?” Dennis explained.

“I get that. That’s why Felix calls me Moose. I'm from Moose Pass, Alaska. ”

“See! That’s exactly what I mean.” His eyes lit up. “Me, too. Well, not Moose, but Dennis because I'm a menace. Get it?”

I didn't.

“Ah, never mind. Follow me, I'll show you around.”

Most everyone had the same items stored in their area. A few things were considered community property. Five bikes, stacks of firewood, extra tarps, a large pile of rope, and two dogs.

At one time, these things belonged to an individual who most likely had thrown them in the garbage. Now, they belonged to everyone. It’s true what they say: one man’s trash is another man’s treasure.

WE HAD SET up between Dennis and another of the longtime residents named Jed.

He wasn’t one of the regulars in the motel parking lot, so we didn’t know of him, but he wanted to be helpful.

“I saw y’all come in last night. You look like bad news.

” He chuckled and held out his hand. “Welcome home. Newbies build the fire on their first full night.” We instantly connected.

I was well aware of how to start a fire, Felix, not so much. He was a quick study, though, and picked up the technique quickly.

Jed handed us firewood once we got it stoked. “You know, this doesn't have to be permanent. If you want to get out of this situation and change your life for the better, just put your mind to it. You'll be able to do it.”

“If that’s true, then why are you still here?” I genuinely wanted to know. For some reason, Jed felt familiar. I saw a piece of me in him.

Lawn chairs placed in a circle around the firepit allowed us to sit and enjoy the warmth.

Jed sat in one and told us his story. He had lost his wife and son in a car accident.

“I tried to live a normal life again but ended up in mental institutions. I couldn’t get a grip, couldn’t keep a job or friends.

So, this is my life now and I’m just fine.

I make money where I can and if I can't, I take what I need and only what I need. I’ve never hurt no one. ”

Most of the camp residents would congregate at the firepit after dark. While daylight remained, only a few of the community members gathered. “How did you end up here?” Jed truly wanted to know my story.

“My parents died when I was fourteen. I lived alone for the summer before the cops realized I didn’t have any supervision.

I never had a job because my entire adult life has been spent behind bars—or outside with a bottle of whiskey in my hand.

Like you, Jed, I never hurt anyone; I made sure of that.

” Eliminating portions of the truth was still a lie, but more to myself than Jed.

Clearing emotion from his throat, Felix joined in the storytelling.

“I never thought I would follow in my mom’s footsteps.

When I was twelve, she died of a drug overdose.

The state split up my family and I bounced around different foster homes until I was old enough to get out. Been living here and there ever since.”

“I’m from Minnesota, originally.” Dennis’ voice startled me.

“A little town outside Minneapolis. My best friend talked me into smoking crack with him one night and I never went back. I lost everything. I couldn’t save my marriage and my parents don't want anything to do with me.” He sighed and pursed his lips.

“So, here I am. Making the best of my shit life.”

Trying to stay upbeat, Dennis switched gears.

“Y’all’d be surprised how much a person can make standing at an intersection with a styrofoam cup.

Lots of people give a dollar and if I can get ten, I can buy my food and drink.

That's all that matters.Don’t need money for rent or electricity.

No car payment, no TV. It’s the best of both worlds.

If I wanted a job, I could probably get one, but then I couldn’t do all the other things I want to do all day.

Like drink.” He held up his bottle and gulped. “Or chill.”

One of his pills appeared in his hand and he popped it into his mouth.

It didn’t hit me until we were in forced proximity: Dennis babbles like Bubba Gump when he's high. I wondered who he got his supply from; he always had a stash of pills. He’d been here for a while, so I was sure he had his connections.

“Eighty percent of the people standing on the corner with a sign drive away in Beamers. The rest of us do anything we can to make a buck.”

KENNEDY RARELY left my mind. It had been difficult to watch the man who took her behind the counter dominate her. My dad had treated Mom that way, like she was less than him. She wasn’t, by any means.

Felix had teased me about Kennedy being someone who would be perfect for me. The more I thought about it, the more I wanted someone to love. It hadn’t been the right time or place for Kennedy to be the one.

During a particularly bad day spent feeling down on myself, I wondered what to do next with my life. We had been to Elaine’s a couple times the previous week and when one of the guys mentioned food, I suggested the restaurant where Kennedy worked.

Looking forward to seeing her smile, I decided to splurge. I didn’t really have the extra funds, but I wanted to see my pretty waitress. Maybe she could lift my spirits.

Disappointed that Kennedy wasn’t working, I asked the owner about her. “Elaine, where has Kennedy been? The last few times we’ve been in, she hasn’t been working.”

The simple question was met with a shrug.

“She just up and left one day. Husband came in and pulled her out by the arm. Haven't seen her since; one day she was here, the next she was just gone. Didn’t even pick up her last check. To tell you the truth,” she leaned closer, “I'm a little worried about her. I went to the address on her application to see if maybe she was sick. The office manager at the motel said they had checked out two days earlier. I hope she’s okay.”