27 comments/ 30758 views/ 60 favorites Faith, Hope and Pure Pigheadedness By: MSTarot "What's your name?" Simon asks kneeling down in the wet muck. He lets his knee hover just off the ground. Looking into the lean-to of shipping pallets and scrap plastic sheeting he see a pair of eyes looking back at him from a face lost mostly in shadow. The smell of the place is horrific but he's known worse. He receives no answer. Taking his backpack off, Simon, places the large Ziploc bag next to the opening. "This is a care package. There are a few things in it for you. There is also twenty dollars in food coupons, to fast-food places around here. They will give you free food in exchange for them." Simon pauses then as her eyes leave his face and go to the plastic baggy. "Will you tell me your name?" There is a cough and a sick chuckle from with the shelter. "Stupid Cum Whore," says the shadow, the eyes coming back to his face. Taking a deep breath Simon sits back on his heels. "That's not a name." Again the laughter. "Yes it is. It's my name. I'm the Stupid Cum Whore." The shiny eyes in the mass of tangled hair drop back to the plastic bag. "Guess I'm suppose to say thank you... make you feel all good inside that you have done your good little effort to help the less... fortunate? Well I wont! I don't need your free food! If I get hungry I go down to the back door of the pizza parlor on Laconica and the dish boy lets me suck his cock for all the burnt scraps I can eat. Sounds like a good deal huh? I even got to taste pepperoni the other day. It almost made the cum taste good." "I'm sorry. I'll leave you be. I didn't mean to bother you I'm just trying to help people." Simon says placating the woman's growing hysterical words. "Help? You want to help? Tell you what...Mr. Helper! Come on in! I can still get a man off. Sure there are a few fleas and I stink but I'm sure I'm a good ride. The drunks seem to think so. They come by a couple of times a week! Give me a shot or two of what ever they have to drink and then they fuck me for a bit. How about you? You got anything to drink? No I forgot you're Mr. Helper! You wouldn't drink alcohol. You've got money though right? How about I give you a ride in the old cum wagon for...how about ten bucks? You got that much? Would be the most I've been paid in a long time." Simon stands up with a soft sigh. "I'm sorry Miss. I can see I've upset you. I'll go away. I'm just trying to lend a helping hand." She comes to the edge of her shelter in a rush. Her face, dirty beyond description and her hair a mess of tangled mats frames her face. Her eyes wild and intensive lock on his. "A helping hand? You're so far above me in the world even if you reached down and I jumped up I wouldn't be able to touch your hand! So fuck you...and thanks for all your help." Simon watches her crawl back into the shanty with the little bag clutches to her chest. As he walks away he hears her cackling. Something hit him in the back. Tuning he see the packs of condoms lying on the ground. "Bit late for those!" she screams out at him. Her laughter chases him down the alley. ** ** ** ** ** ** ** "That's Lorena. Yea I know her, hell so do you." Sitting in the little donut shop, slowly sipping at my too hot coffee I watch the man across the table from me wiping bits of donut off his uniform. He takes a sip of his coffee. The coffee is as dark as his skin. "I do?" I ask. Roy nods his head. "You sure do. You just can't place a face to her name. Think back about eight years. Remember Tee Jay? That little harem of hotness he was peddling? Now think about the tall girl with jet back hair. Body make playboy bunny cry in envy! Yea you remember." My breath caught in my throat I try to place the girl from memory with the ragged dirt smeared image from earlier today. "Your sure?" I ask "Yep. She started a down slide when Tee Jay shot that fellow and went to the house for twenty to life. You remember when that went down?"he says. "Yea. I though the cops got those girls off the street. Weren't some of them in the country illegally?"I say. Roy just looks at me for a second. "You know for someone that's been trying to help people on these streets for as long as you have been you are a bit naive still. Simon those girls were sold to Tee Jay! He bought then from guys across the border. Kept them working with the threat of turning them over to immigrations." I sit looking at Roy with a kicked in the gut feeling settling in. "I've heard about that before. I didn't know there was any of it going on around here. Was Lorena..." I ask. "No, she's a US citizen... hell born not to far from here. I think she moved from down near the coast." "So given what I told you can you think of anyway I can help her?" I ask after a moment. "Simon, I wont say there is no way to help her, but damned if I know of a good one. When you get to the point she is... you have to help pull yourself back from the bottom. She doesn't want to. It's almost the way it was with me. Your Dad helped me up but I wanted to be helped. Lorena...she doesn't. I arrested her about a year back for soliciting. If she's as bad now as she was then?" he shrugs. "Probably worse." I say with a sigh. "Then no. She's going to have to want to help herself before anyone can be of any use to her," he says definitively. "So I need to find her a reason to want to help herself," I say more than ask. "Good luck on that one." He says without much confidence. "Thanks." I answer with sincerity. ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** Holding the lease renewal in my hand I stop the pen just inches from the paper as the idea comes to me. In the last four months I've tried everything I can. I have hunted down family...they are either dead, or in the case of her sister glad that she's living homeless. I tried finding people on the same level in life that she is. None of them wanted to help her. They all think she's either getting what she's got coming to her or that she's past helping and that there are other on the street that need help more and want it. I've tried talking to her...but that was worse than useless. I brought her a clean set of clothes and some money to get a hotel room for the night so she could get cleaned up. She sold the clothes for cash and used all the money to get high. Least that's what she told me when I found her still in her box the next morning. Putting down my pen I pick up the phone and call the number at the top of the paper. " I'm not going to be renewing. I'm moving out when the lease runs out on Friday," I tell him when he answers. "You're sure about that? I won't be able to hold the apartment for long if you change your mind." I can hear the greed in his voice. I'm leasing at a lower rate than anyone else is because I've been here so long. "I won't be changing my mind." Looking around my apartment after the phone clicks I start to take in what I really need. What I would carry out with me in case of a fire. A few photos. Some little things, like my dad's old badge, mom's locket. Calling the moving company, then the storage place I get the ball in motion. In the end I decide to send more of my stuff to Goodwill than I would have thought. Come Thursday night the apartment is empty.I sleep on the carpeted floor in my old bedroom. I lay awake long into the night with fear and uncertainty my best friends. The rental of the storage place will eat up my funds in about a year. After that I will have to stop what I'm doing or lose everything to auction. Looking over in the dark I see the bag sitting next to me on the floor. It contains all that I think I will need for the rest of my life if that happens. Because I know then that I will let it all go, I will let everything be sold for pennies if I can not pull her back up. She said I couldn't reach her hand I was so far above her. Okay. ** ** ** ** ** ** ** I spend my first week on the street just moving from place to place. I talk to people I've helped over the years. Some are understanding about what I'm doing. Most think I'm crazy. All welcome me into their homes. Be it a warm grate where a building's heating system dumps it's excess. A bench in the park, a hole in the wall near the bus station. Quickly I find that there is a world that I never even knew about. I come to also quickly see that all that I have tried to do over the years, while not useless, was never even close to enough to what was needed. As this shift in perspective comes around I start to wander into the area where I know she is. I see her but she pays me little mind. I watch her on her knees in a back alleyway getting food from the pizza place. Watching her I soon learn that's by far the better way that she finds it. After two weeks I notice that I'm more and more the object of foul looks from people. There are mutters of 'get a job ya bum' 'God he stinks. Take a bath you filthy bastard' Hunting the back alleyway I find out first hand that life on the street is far worse than I thought. When three young men descend on me. I run till I can't then get one of the first beatings in my life. I'm saved from being robbed by the strangest of things.When they open my bag to take my stuff my father's old badge is on the very top. They run away thinking I'm an undercover cop. That night, sleeping in a doorway, I hurt in places I didn't know I had. Every cough a pain that nearly keels me over. "What are you doing?" I ask myself then. I think back to the reason I came out here. Lorena a woman so lost I couldn't help her. So far down from me I could reach her. Well I'm a lot closer now than I was then. My clothing covered in the first frost of the season I wake to a policeman's boot kicking my foot. "Move on." he says then stops and looks down at me. "Simon?" Shivering I look up at Roy. Sniffling I smile. I take his hand when he holds it out to me. "What are you doing out here? People are worried about you all over the place! You just dropped off the face of the earth," Roy asks his face a study of concern. "I figured out a way to help Lorena," I tell him after a fit of coughing chokes me. I notice the blood on my hand when I wipe my lips. So does Roy. "What the hell happen?" he asks. "The street," I shrug. He understands from those two words. He's been there. He's seen it. "Why?" he ask me then. "For that girl? A drugged out, pimps cast off, giving sex for whatever shit she can hit to burn away some more brain cells! For her! Why in gods green earth?" he asks me with some heat. "Don't you realize how many other people you have been helping? That are having to do without that help while you try to drag her ass out the gutter...that she want to be in!" I look down at his shiny badge. "Something Dad told me. He said if you can help those that want to be helped that great. But if you an help those that don't then you did something worth being alive for." I see Roy's face then. Old memories of his life where I'm trying to survive. The things he did.He understands. He may not like it but he understands. He buys me the best meal I've eaten in weeks. It may have cost him five bucks but to me it's like manna from heaven. I scrap together enough to buy the same meal latter in the week. I take it to Lorena's alleyway. She's playing with a set of child's jacks. She doesn't have the little ball though. Rolling them to the ground, over and over almost like their dice. I walk up, place the bag next to her, and sit down with my back to the wall opposite her. She looks up from the mindless game to the food bag then to me. "What do you want for this?" she asks. I can see that she's willing to do just about anything and doesn't care what it might be. "Nothing. It's a getting to know the neighborhood gift from your new neighbor." She looks at my face then. "I know you. I know, I know you." "Mr. Helper," I say to remind her of the nick name she gave me. I can't quite place the look she gives me then. "What the hell is this?" she ask then. "A burger, fries and a pie." I nod towards the bag. "Been finding lost change and checking vending machines to get that for you. I hope it's still warm," I say. "What the fuck kind of play acting shit is this? You think I'm going to buy this sorry act, Mr. Helper?" she says. "Up to you," I get to my feet. "I saw a large box about two block away. I think It will fit back there a bit snug." point to the back of the alley. Blinking she watches me walk out the alley to go get my box. The crumpled bag is sitting beside her when I come dragging the thing back. I manage to wedge it into the little cubbyhole after a bit of work and go back to where she's watching me. "Saw some carpet scraps over near Sullivan. Want me to bring you a bit for you place? It was in good shape from what I saw."I ask. When she doesn't answer I take it for a yes. She's in her box and only her eyes are gleaming out at me when I lay the square near the opening. "I'm not buying it Mr. helper!" "Well that fine since I'm not selling, Lorena." She's out the box and in my face in a rush that startles the hell out of me. Up close I can see the face of the woman I once thought was so very goddess like. Time and drugs have taken a lot of that away but I can still make out the features of her past. "It's Stupid Cum Whore! That's my name you piece of shit!" she spits in my face. Wiping my face I look her in the eyes. Red rimed with months of grime around them I notice then the faded bruise around one. The split lip that nearly healed. "I won't call you that. It's not a name," I say. "It's my name...Mr. helper. It's the one I earned on my knees!" she laughs. "And other positions. Oh get the fuck out of my way." I move and watch her walk out the alley. When she doesn't come back I track her down. When I find her in a new alley I drag her lean-to and my box the seven blocks and set them back up in about the same position. "I must say this place is a bit nicer. Good choice, The view of the park is wonderful." I place my carpet scrap inside and toss in my much lighter bag of 'can't live withouts' inside. She laughs softly, then really laughs. "I'm glad you like my winter palace, you fuck." She is still laughing when I go out and down to the park to walk and watch the birds. I don't ask for it but people give me about six dollars in change. That I have gotten to look that pathetic is as much a surprise as the way I look when I stare into my reflection in the lake. The fast food manager makes me order my food through the drive through window. I don't really care since he seems willing to take the money I offer. She eyes the bag of food I sit by her box. When she looks up at me I see hate, then something else cross her face. "Why?" She asks after a second. I sit down just outside her box and start to eat my food. The chicken sandwich is cold, the bun stale. He must have given me one that's been sitting under the heat lamp since lunch. Don't care. It's still food. Better than dinner last night. "Why?" she demands. "What the fuck do you want from me, you prick?" I look over at her, smile after a second. "For you to reach up your hand. I don't know how much further down I can go but... I'm reaching out to you will everything I've got," I say. After a moment she laughs her not nice cackle laugh. "You ain't even close yet Mr. Helper,"she says. I take the last bite of my sandwich and put the rest of the fries in her bag. "Okay. I'll try harder." ** ** ** ** ** ** ** The wine is pure sugar and cheep alcohol. It's probably more food coloring than grape juice. I got the bottle for a buck so what the hell. The alcohol is a bitter burn but I feel some of the pains from life slip a bit. I hold the bottle out to her. She eyes it, then smirks. "This is your trying harder? If it was crack or meth you might be trying but this is just entertainment,"she says with contempt. Shaking my head I continue to hold out the bottle. "Sorry can't help you there. I went down that road when I was a teen. Not going back. Not even for you. If I walk down it again I'll never get back from it. The person that helped me back last time is dead so...no." I shrug an apology. She stare at me then takes the bottle. I watch her drink half of it like it's water. She tosses it back to me spilling some of it on my chest. I ponder for a half second wiping the top before I drink the rest ...but then don't She sees the hesitation. "So not for me? You might as well go back to your condo, Mr. Helper." I watch her disappear off into the night to go sell herself for whatever she can get. Not for food but for drugs to get higher than the wine can get her. The last of the wine drips into my mouth bringing with it a numbness that I hate but need so badly right now.With it comes a memory that I hate far more than the numbness. Memories of the six months of hell that I put my family through. My dad crying his eyes out as he held me tight again his blue uniform, in a holding cell while I convulsed my way out of an addiction that had robed me of... me. I had promised him. Promised him I would never touch the stuff again. Do promises to a dead man count more than trying to help someone that's alive? When I see the blood crusted at her nose and the deep black bruise around her eye later that night I decide they don't. ** ** ** ** ** ** ** He didn't want to sell it to me. You know that a bad sign. When a drug dealer doesn't want you to have something because it so fucking bad for you. He tried to talk me into a half dozen other things. Even offered me a hit for free if I would do something else. Really bad sign...but then I know this old demon well. I wrestled it for half a year once. In the end he knew a guy that would sell it. He said he didn't want to handle the shit. The fucker was selling every flavor of street grade shit but didn't want to sell this? Very bad sign. The guy he knew had some...all but gave it to me. Hell the cigarettes cost me more. Sitting in my box, listening to the rain hitting the scrap of blue tarp, I open the little bottle. The ether smell of it is a memory that gives me a shiver. One by one I dip the cigarettes into it, holding it for a few seconds then bringing them out. I lay them down to dry out. Memory tells me it won't take long. I wish I would take forever. The wet work done I take out the lighter and look at my trembling hand. A sound comes to me then. A whimper of pain from the nearby box. I can see only a few of the bruises on her but I can tell by the way she's holding her ribs that there are a lot more under those dirty clothes. Whoever she was with wanted more than sex. He wanted a punching bag after the blowjob. I light the first one. The taste is all I remember. The numbing feeling that comes on so very quickly I remember as well. As I start to drift in the haze of scented smoke I wonder what I was thinking to ever give this up. One by one I smoke away the three cigarettes I prepared. As I puff in the filter on the last I wish I had made a few more. I try to get the little bottle back out but I can't get my hands to work. Blinking I watch the rain slow to a stop! It twinkles in the light from the street lamp, like suspended diamonds they hang there. I try to reach out to them, To take the diamonds from the air but they burst and flow down my hand in a tiny river of light. I watch them hang there for the next hour then just listen to the sound they make when they finally fall. ** ** ** ** ** ** ** "What the Fuck did you take?" Blinking I look up into the face in front of me. Why is she screaming at me? I try to speak but find my mouth filled with the most horrible taste. I realize what it is when I look down and realize I threw up the hot dog I got from the trash can by the park. Faith, Hope and Pure Pigheadedness A hand slaps my face hard. "MR.HELPER!" "What?" I ask looking at her again. She has beautiful eyes. "You have beautiful eyes," I tell her softly. She blinks at me and slaps me again. "What the fuck did you take?" she screams at me. I try to fish in my pocket for the little bottle. When I can' t make my hands work right I just pat the pocket. She reaches into my shirt and pulls it out. I watch her open it and then I smile as the smell of it comes to me when she opens the top. "What the hell is this?" she asks sniffing it. "Angel dust." I tell her then notice that my tongue feels puffy. I place it between my teeth and bite down trying to see how numb. "Stop that!" She forces her fingers into my mouth. I can taste her skin. Then I taste copper and my tongue feels funny. "Damn it stop!" she yells. Blinking I sit back. "What?" I ask. Turning I spit the foul taste of copper pennies from my mouth then look at the red pool it makes. "You idiot you nearly bit your tongue off!" she screams at me. Then she looks down at the bottle. "Angel dust! What the fuck made you do this shit? Where the hell did you get it?" "Got it from a guy...he had black hair...It was cheaper than the last time I bought some." I reach in my mouth and feel the little cut on my tongue. "Get your hand out your mouth, you don't know where it's been." She tells me with a shake of her head. "Why the hell did you take this shit?" "Try to reach your hand," I say looking at my wet red fingers. "You said I've got to try harder so I'm trying." Where did my fingers get bloody? Her hand cups my chin and makes me look up at her. "You have beautiful eyes," I tell her softly. A single tear runs down her cheek. "You said not for me. You said that! Why?"she asks. Reaching up I caress the blue black skin near her eye. I leave a trail of red across it without meaning to. "Someone's got to. Before you die. Someone's got to reach you." I pull my hand back and rub the stickiness from my fingers. Why is my hand numb? "I'm trying. I'm trying. I'm trying. I'm trying." Her hand caressing my face make me look back up at her. She is crying freely now. "Why? Why are you trying?"she asks softly. "You have beautiful eyes," I tell her softly. "My god you're fucked up! Come on Mr. Helper lets have a lie down." I follow her directions and turning I lay down on my carpet scrap. The scratchy blanket the guy from the church brought out to me is a warm weight. The nights are getting colder. "I want you to listen to me now okay?" I nod. "Don't do this shit again. You hear me. I'm not worth you doing this crap." I see the little bottle fly across the alley. It hits a bag of garbage. "Smoke a joint, hit a crack pipe, drink cheep wine till you puke but don't do this shit. You hear me?" "Yea." "Do you understand me or are you too fucked up? Oh never mind I'll tell you again tomorrow when you straighten out. Get some sleep Mr. Helper." "Yea," she starts to walk away. "Hey!" What?" she asks turning to look back at me. "You have beautiful eyes." She stares at me for a second them I see a slow smile come to her face. "Thank you." ** ** ** ** ** ** ** "Hey Mr. Helper!" Opening my eyes I look up at Lorena. She's knelt down next to my box. "You clear headed?" she asks. I ponder the question. Moving my tongue I lick the caustic taste from my teeth. Hacking up phlegm I turn and spit against the wall beside my box. "Yea." I say softly. "You're going to listen to me. You're going to listen to me like you never listened to anyone before in your life. I don't want your fucking help. I don't fucking want it! Get yourself pulled together and get back to your happy condo life. Go back to giving out handouts to the ones that want them. Go work at a soup kitchen if you feel the need to help so bad. But leave me the fuck alone!" I look up at her. Slowly I pull myself to my feet and fight the urge to puke. I look down into her face. "Okay I heard you. Now you hear me." I swallow and wish I hadn't "No." I say the word in a whisper. Little more than the ghost of a breath. For a half second I see a look of incredulousness cross her face then anger burns it away. Her palms slam into my chest pushing me back. "What the fuck is wrong with you? Didn't you hear what I said? I'm sick of seeing you. I was sick of you the first time. What? What you want something from me? Want to get that warm happy feeling from helping me out?" she asks. She drops to her knees in front of me and grabs at my belt. "I'll give you a warm happy feeling. I know all about them."she says struggling to get the belt undone. I pull myself away from her but she follows. Her hands pulling tearing at my pants to get me free. "Let me give you that good feeling so you will leave me alone!" she says. As her hand wraps around my cock I grab her by the hair. I get a little cry of pain as I pull he to her feet by that handhold. I drive her into the wall then with a lot of effort I grab her hands and force then to the side. She looks at me with a grin. "Is this it? Is this what gets you sweaty? Come on! Think I've never been had rough fucked? I was sold for three dollars a fuck one night! Must have been twenty guy went flat broke. I couldn't walk for two days but that didn't matter to Tee Jay The stupid cum whore doesn't need to walk to bring in money!" I feel her stop fighting me. "Why not bend me over? I give just as good from behind. Come on Mr. Helper pick a hole!" she just looks at me. "Take whatever you want and get the fuck out my life so I can get back to..." Turning loose of her hand I pull her into my arms and hold her tight to my chest. "What?" she says confused and then she tries to pull away. I just hold her to me. I have to move my nose away from her hair. Even as foul as I smell I can't take that smell. I realize that someone if not several someone's have pissed on her. She never bothered to wash it off. That tells me more than I could ever learn from anywhere else. I just hold her to my chest as she fights and struggles in my arms. "Let me go! Let me go god damn you!" I just hold her. I feel her try to claw at me but I don't turn lose. I am cussed in words I've never even head before. Several languages of guttural profanity come pouring out of her mouth. I just hold her. Finally she grows quiet. I hear a half sob. "Please just fuck Me." she says in a whisper. I shake my head and hold her if anything even tighter. How long I stand there with her in my arms I can't say. Years worth of tears soak my shirt long before I turn her gently lose and walk with her back to her box. I sit beside the open end as she huddles under her blanket and I take her hand in mine when she starts to cry again. "Please leave me alone," she says in a whisper after I thought she must have fallen asleep. "No." I say back just as softly. I hold her hand long into the night. I crawl my way back into my box when the sky begins to pink. ** ** ** ** ** ** ** She's gone when I wake. I hunt the streets for the next two weeks without so much as a single sign of her anywhere. I finally track down Roy. I ask him to look out for her. The look on his face as he looks me over. I hear the sigh then see the shake of his head. "Simon. Come on, let me get you out of this. We both know the people to go see. I can have you cleaned up and fed in just a few hours. I'll give the wife a call and tell her we will be having a house guest for a few days till we can find you an apartment. She knows you she won't mind." "Roy. Thank you but ...no. Not without her." He just looks at me. "Simon I owe you father and your family and you. I'm begging you to please let me help you. I know the street, Simon. I remember what it's like. I lived it for years. The hardest parts are still to come for you. Please," he begs. "Not without her." "WHY?" he yells at me. "What the fuck makes her so fucking special? I can take you around and show you a dozen people that are just as bad off as she is but would like to be helped. That could use someone to help them. I know what you told me but damn it Simon! Your dad wouldn't want you doing this." I step back and look down at my feet. Then my eyes go to his shoes. Polished shiny black. I can see the world reflected in them. With a smile I see that the guy who shined shoes for a year is still in there some where. I look up at his face. "My Dad helped a homeless black man in the days when no white man would sit next to one on the bus." I see him look down. After a second he gives a nod. "Remember those times, Roy? What the world did and said about your people? My Dad was a policeman from a family of policemen. We go back four generations. He was the only one to ever get a bad conduct mark in his permanent record." Roy's mouth grimaces making the graying mustache twitch. "He slugged a fellow officer when that man made a wise crack about my Mom probably getting her some 'nigger dick'. The Captain tore him a new asshole over you. Said what could Dad expect! Told him that he was a stupid fool for having you in his house. Having a 'colored' man in his house when he was off at work? Might as well hand over his wife to be raped," I swallow to keep from chocking on the bile. I see the expressions crossing Roy's face. He knows that if I were putting names out there these would be people he probably worked with at the start of his career. "That would be when your Dad transferred to the Seventh? Wouldn't it?" He asks then. "Yea. The Captain told him to pack up his badge and walk. Probably because Dad called him a racist son of a bitch," I say. Roy flinches. "The drop in pay grade." He says more than asks. "Yea. He was all but blacklisted for six years after that. He never once complained. He said it was the cost of doing the right thing and that he would pay it triple if he had to." Roy looks down away from my face as I hear a sniffle from him. "I think one of the proudest moments in his life was when you made the force." I tell him softly. I reach out to take his shoulder then see how dirty my hand is. I hold my hand just off his shoulder till he looks up. His eyebrow quirks seeing it hovering there. I look at the filth that covers my skin. Then grin at him. "Can't get the blue's dirty," I say with that silly grin. Roy's hand catches mine and he pulls me into his chest in as hard a hug as I've ever felt.' "Help her if you can, Simon." He says fiercely by my ear. "She may not be worth it but you sure as fuck give it your best try." "She's worth it." I say after a few moments. Roy turns me lose and looks me in the eyes. "How can you tell?" he asks softly. After a moment I give my head a shake. "I just can," I say. Roy finds her for me. ** ** ** ** ** ** ** Compared to the alley the new place is a far step down. The building must have at some point burned down. That hasn't stopped people using it for years. The graffiti is layered upon layer. I see gang signs from people that are a decade gone. Tags from dead people peek out from behind the tags of the soon to be dead. The sewer smells of the place, the cold wet stench from the river. I squat down next to the door and offer the guy sitting there a cigarette. His hand shakes as he takes it. I look up at the tan BDU cap with the old Gulf War markings on the side. I steady his hands with mine as he uses my lighter to light the cigarette. He just looks at me and after a moment smiles. "Thanks son." He hands me back the lighter then takes a long drag. "You're welcome and thank you." I get to my feet leaving him with a puzzled look. I step around over and through the piles of trash and building debris. I feel my clothes snag more than one on the old nails that hang from every surface. The rusty remnants of long burned away drywall. The room may have been a janitor's mop closet at one time. There is a hole in the wall where copper was scavenged maybe decades ago. They took the sink for scrap metal maybe. Lorena is huddled in the corner on a pile of rags. I can see that her clothing is far worse of than it was. Like it's been torn from her...maybe more than once. The blanket she huddles under was for moving furniture with once upon a time. I do not speak. I sit down and lean back against the wall. The old tile is cold and damp. I notice that the sewer smell is heavier here. Like maybe it's coming up from the basement through the hole in the wall. After a moment she looks up. Her face is a mess of new and old bruises. Somehow her mouth, swollen as it is, can still make a smile. "What I got to do Mr. Helper? Do I have to leave the whole god damn state?" I hold out a bottle to her. The pale blue flask was a buck and a half at the store down the road. The clerk slide it out to me through a wooden drawer. The four-inch thick plexi glass between me and him so scratched and scared I couldn't make out his face. "Entertainment?' I ask with a smile. She chuckles. "YOU, are one pigheaded shit fuck you know that?" she asks. I nod. "Yea, Lorena. I do. Come back home." I say when she takes the bottle. She nearly chokes she tries to drink so fast. Either that or her laughing does it. "Home? What the fuck is that, Mr. Helper? Is that the alley I was first in or the one I had to move too because of you? This is home. This piss smelling place is as good as any,"she says. I look around the small room. "Might be warmer." I say after a moment. "Not much room here though. Want to see if we could get a bigger place in the next burned out building down the road?" She gives a half chuckle. "Sorry can't. I have a year lease I have to see paid out or I'll lose my deposit," she says without much humor for all the laugh. She hands the bottle back to me. I take a sip without wiping the top and hand it back to her. The cheep stuff burns all the way down and tasted like grape soda mixed with pine sap. I pull my knees up to my chest. The tile is colder after the warmth of the drink. "Lorena..." I start to say. "Please don't call me that." She says softly. "My name is..." "Hey cum slut!" I glance up when the guy comes walking in. His hand is at his belt pulling it open. One hand already going to this zipper. "Rents do bitch..." he looks down and sees me. "Who the fuck are you?" I start to pull my way up to my feet but make it only just a bit when his foot hit 's my chest. Then he kicks her! "I told you no one else gets your cunt! You stupid fucking bitch, I own that hole and all the others. I rent them out... not you! You understand?" he asks leaning down towards her. His hand connects with the side of her face in a loud hard slap! "You understand slut?" he screams at her. I try to push myself up to make him stop. Seeing me he gives a harsh chuckle and starts to deliver kick after kick into my side. The old work boots he's wearing hit with the unyielding feeling of their steel toes. Groaning I do all I can which is just to curl up and try to protect my hands and face as the boots land harder and harder. The shattering of glass in the small room is terribly loud. So is his scream! I manage to look up enough to see him reeling back clutching his face. The broken wine bottle drips red from the jagged edges. With a snarl she goes back in on him! I clutch my ribs and lever my way to my feet trying to stop her, protect her, get her out of here. Or any combination of them. I see the knife for only a half second then I hear her scream. I grab a piece of scrap fire blackened wood and swing at him with all my strength. The rusted nail catches him in the back of his hand and lays him open to the elbow. As he staggers off screaming in pain I get her under my arms and hurry out the burned building. The first gun shot hits the metal lamp post next to us. I look back to see the bleeding man pointing and two others with guns held high aiming at Lorena and me. The pop, boom... pop, boom is muffled. Not their guns...? I realize that at the same time I see them drop. Still bleeding like mad the first guy turns to look back towards the building. I see the flash of light from by the door this time. The man hits the sidewalk with no further worries about bleeding to death. There is a shadow by the door. I see a cigarette butt come spinning end over end out the shadow by the door. Clutching her to me I drag us down the street as fast as I can. After about a block or so I stop and start to look her over. I notice the bloody bottle is still clutched in her hand. "Were did he cut you?" I ask when I can't see any place on her. She moves her let hand from beside her ribs and I see the red stain. "It's not bad." She says when I go to take a look. "I screamed because he hit bone." "He hit bone and it's not bad? Let me see!" She shakes her head. "Not here," I see her look up at me. "Take me home please." Nodding I get us moving. About a mile latter is a homeless shelter I've worked at many a day. The guy that runs it remembers me. He gives us a ride across town without a single question asked. I see the look in his eye when he pops the trunk. He hand me two of the big Ziploc bagged care packages then leaves without another word. I understand as he drives away. Don't ask for this kind of help again. "Sit here." I tell her guiding her to the curb by her lean-to. She nods without caring, obviously in pain. I kneel down in front of her and pop open the Ziploc bag. I smile as I realize it just maybe one of the many hundreds I helped pack at the place last summer. The little first aid kits came from the dollar store. Hardly worth what we paid for them but they do have a few things that will help. When we packed a curved needle and dental floss into them I had considered it unneeded. After all anyone hurt badly enough to need stitches would just go to a free clinic's emergency room right? I know without asking she wont. She doesn't even seem mildly interested when I undo the bread ties that are holding together her shirt. I don't have to ask what happen to the buttons that were there the last time I saw her. The cascaded layers of bruising going from black to a sick green tell me she's been on the other end of the same boot I was kicked with. The lack of bra doesn't surprise me. The size of the gash just under her breast does! "Good god, Lorena! You should have told me it was this bad! I would have stitched you up at the shelter." She shakes her head. "They would be required by law to ask how it happened." I feel my testicles cringe at the site of the blood that oozes down her side. I will my hand not to shake as I thread the needle. When I get that done I look up at her. "I don't have anything to give you for pain other than a few aspirin. I'm sorry." I say and mean it. "Look there." She points to a rock sitting next to her shelter. When I move it I see it covers a small pothole. There are a few things hidden there. A couple of joint ends in a big Ziploc baggy, one off the care packages I gave her no doubt. I see the little glass vial. Now my hands truly do shake. I've fought the cravings for the shit for the last few weeks. Since the morning after in fact. When I pick it up I notice her eyes on me. "I thought I might could sell it to a few of the crack heads. They wouldn't even touch the shit," she says. I chuckle at that. "How do you use it?" she asks. I fish out my remaining cigarette and dip it in. I hold a bit of cloth to her side while the drug dries into the paper and tobacco. "Just smoke it?" she asks. I nod. Faith, Hope and Pure Pigheadedness When it lights I have to fight to not snatch it from her and drag half of it to ash in one long toke. After a moment I see her eyes flutter. "Damn...this is some strange shit." She says after a second. Puff after puff I let her finish the wet. That I can slowly stitch her up without so much as a whimper tells me that my money weeks ago was well spent. As I sew I can't help but look at her bare breast and the incredibly dark nipple that sits far to low on it. I remember how she looked years ago when I first saw her. She was much bigger breasted then. Time has taken a lot from her. The street had taken more, I think as I look at the mass of bruising. "Like the view?" she asks me softly. "Hey no boxing the booby!" she says when my hand brushed her breast as I pull the stitch tight. I smile and continue my sewing. I have to make my mind go to a place where the blood is just another liquid, the skin just fabric. The woman just a thing. Pausing I take a deep breath as I tie off the last knot. I pull the disposable razor from the bag and use it's edge to slice the dental floss. She gives the stitches a curious look. I have to stop her from poking it. "Lets get you to bed." I say softly as I pull her shirt back down over the padded bandage I made from paper-towels. She gives a cackle of a laugh. "I knew you were just a man. One little look at my tits and your already tying to get me in bed." I smile. "Come on, Lorena." I go to pull on her arm to help her to her feet. It takes me more than a few minutes to convince her that I want her to just lay down not to get naked and fuck. When she finally comes to understand I honestly think she's a bit disappointed. I watch her snuggle down in her pile of old scrap clothes and donated blankets. "Why are you trying so hard to help me, Mr. Helper?" she asks softly. I sit down just under the edge of her shanty. "Because you need help." I tell her as I take her hand. She looks at my fingers curiously like she has no idea what they are. "But I don't want it." "That's why you need it the most." I say with a smile. "You're one pig headed fucker." I nod. "I wish I knew why..." her words trail off as she drifts off to sleep. Looking down at her sleepy face the years roll back to the summer of 1997, sixteen years. To part of me it feels just like yesterday. To he rest it's a lifetime ago. Lifting my hand to her face I brush back the dark hair. I see the strands of gray where once was a black so dark it looked blue. I caress her cheek, now bruised and battered, where once smiles had hung from. Flirty smiles directed at much younger man...from a much less world-damaged woman. "She sure is a looker hu Kid? You got a hundred buck you can do a lot more than look." With that voice echoing up from memory I get up and go to my box. I shiver as I crawl into the smelly blankets. The nights are getting so very cold. Winter is coming on. What the hour of the night is I do not know. I'm awaken by the silence. Looking out I see it's source. The first flakes of winter do not know that is still Fall. They care not that Halloween has just past and that Thanksgiving is still a week and a half away. They simply fall. I drift back to sleep watching it. A crunching of snow partially wakes me but the cold wet snowball that hits the top of my head does the rest! As I struggle to get up a second one comes raining in. Rolling up I see Lorena grinning at me. A true grin of joy as she send a third snowball into the box. Covered in the wet white I scramble out and give chase when she takes off running. I scoop up enough snow to pack and send one into the back of her head just as she tries to turn the corner. "Damn it!"she yells. Laughing I round the corner and catch a face full of powder. I look through snow covered lashes to see her running off down the street holding onto the side I stitched up last night. Smiling I look around. The city looks newborn. It's grungyness covered in a soft white blanket. A sudden shiver tells me that it is far less warm than a blanket though. Going back to the box I pull out my bedding and give it a shake. The snow flies out to disappear into the powered underfoot. A layer of dirt and dust joins it to mare the perfection of white. I look around then and see not the winter wonderland of a few seconds ago but instead a cold world turning harder. I think back to Roy saying that the hardest parts were still to come. My eyes come to rest on the little shelters we have. Suddenly my shipping box on its pallet covered with a blue tarp doesn't seem like so very.... Very what? Safe? It never has been. Comfortable? Not even close. "Home?" My eyes go to her lean-to of pallets and tarps. "Only because she is near." Grabbing out one of my blankets I go to try and find some money to get some food. Or find some food. In whatever way that I have to. My understanding of her is growing apace with the winter. After that one morning of smiles Lorena is back to her old self again. I try to be nice, to be understanding. The snow melts faster than she does. The wet slushy mess of it soon is covering the street. I notice that the air smells cleaner though. The washing of run-off takes away some of the dirt. Bruising heals, all be it slowly. I ask once to check her stitches, she laughs and wont let me see them. Says that would cost me at least two bucks. So I go scrape together two bucks worth of change. Then, five dollars for some antiseptic ointment. The red blistered look too it scares me but she seems to not care. Again it snows. Lighter this time. She doesn't wake me with snowballs this time though. She just sits looking out at it sullenly. The cold has us now and the last days of summer are a distant memory. I sit watching it then get to thinking. I slowly smile and get to my feet. She watches me walk away without caring. It's more than a few miles walk to the shelter but I manage it. "Simon?" I must be asked that at least once by every worker there. Most of them know me. I've worked in here more than a few years on these blustery days. The old man in charge is an ex drill sergeant who can get the most out of a crew no matter what they are. He knew my father. Served with him in fact. He looks at me then drags me into his office and makes me explain what I'm doing. Like Roy and most I've talked with he thinks I'm a fool. Oh he understands but... The canvass bag I walk back to our shelter with started it's life carrying shopping for people at Target. Today it carries two Styrofoam plates, plus two loafs of bread and a jar of peanut butter. My stomach is already stuffed from the turkey and dressing that I was all but force-fed. Lorena looks up as I walk back into the alley. I don't think she has moved. Sitting down in the front of her shack I pull out one of the plates and hand it to her. She looks up at me. "Thanksgiving? Who am I supposed to say thank you too on this year? You? God?" she asks not opening it. "The dozen people who gave up their holiday to work today giving out food to the homeless at the shelter I got this from would be a good start. They could be home with their families watching the Macy's day parade and football but instead they are handing out over 500 meals today. Most of them donated more than half their pay checks last week to help buy supplies." I hand her the plastic fork and napkin pack. "So yea if you should thank anyone... that would be who." She looks at the white box. I can see the temptation to throw it at me but at the same time I know she can feel the heat of it through the ragged gloves she's wearing. I watch her eat slowly at first then she begins to stuff it in as fast as she can. Taking huge bites that threaten to choke her. When that plate is empty I pull out the second. She looks at me with tears at the corner of her eyes. "This one you can thank me for," I say when she takes it. Getting up I go to my box and stretch out. The canvass bag a comforting presence next to my hip. It tells me hunger at least won't take me for a few days. I pick up the little paperback I found in a dumpster. "That book has no cover. That means it was stolen" she says softly. "You could go to jail for possession of stolen goods." "At least it would be warmer," I say with a chuckle. "Yea till the middle of the night when they decided that you were their bitch." She cackles. I look up at her from the book. "At least it would be warmer." Her laughter rings out the alleyway. ** ** ** ** ** ** ** Cold! The world feels so frozen it would shatter if you taped it with a hammer. So very cold! Huddling in my box I try anything to get warm. The layers of clothing, the layers of blankets, the piece of shipping foam I have under me. Oh dear God the cold! The cough racks my chest sending red flashes before my eyes. I feel faint for a half-second then another round tears through me. I clutch at the blankets and try to hold in any heat. So very... I double up as my lungs try to hack out what every has then so inflamed. "Come on Mr. Helper." That I'm being helped to my feet is something I'm only half aware of as the blankets are pulled off me and the shocking blast of chilled air tears into me. Then I'm under even more blankets. They are warm and carry a different scent about them. Then mine are piled on top and I shiver. The coughing buckles me up on myself. I clutch at the warmth of her next to me when it appears. She draws me in tight to her and holds me as I cough. "You're sick Mr. Helper. Do you understand me? You have a fever!" She gives me shoulders a shake even as she's rubbing my back. "Mr. Helper?' "My name is Simon." I manage to croak out of my raspy throat. Hands brush at my face. They drag through the beard, I've let grow to help stay warm. Through the tangles of my hair grown to a ragged length. "You're going to die out here!" she screams at me then. "Do you hear me Mr. HELPER? You probably have p-monia! Go home! Go get you help from one of your friends and go home!" "Not without you." I croak my voice a ragged whisper. That little effort tears huge choking coughs from me. "Why? Why? WHY!" she shakes me by my jacket. "What the hell am I to you? Some lost soul in need of helping? Some way of redeeming some little wrong you did in your life? I don't want your help! This is my home. This cold hell of a fucking street! This land of pimps and junkies..." tears are pouring from her cheeks. "This is where I belong for what I've done. This hell is my home. Now please save yourself...Simon." I swallow past the hot fire in my throat and shake my head. I try to draw in a breath to speak but I only cough. When that stops I look up at her. Her face is tracked with tears. "Who am I to you that you would be willing to die out here in the cold for?" she ask softly. I manage to lift my hand from under the blanket and brush the salty trails across her cheeks. "You were my first." I say with a wheeze. "You always fall in love with your first." The coughing that took to say leaves my head swimming and little lightning bugs dancing across my eyes. My head is pounding as I drift off to sleep. I awaken to that silence that snow brings. Turning my head I look out the lean-to and see it piling up. When I look back I see her looking at my face. "I've spent half the night just looking at your face. Trying to remember you. I hate to say that I can't." she reaches down and brushes my hair back out the way. "I've been with so many men that the faces have all kind of blurred together. Sorry. When was it?" I swallow. Damn.... I hadn't meant to tell her. "Simon?" I look up at my name. "When was it?" she asks softly. "Just before summer...back in 97... somewhere around May. I was eighteen. I had just cashed my first real paycheck. Came walking out this little cash a check place and stopped. There was the hottest and strangest looking purple car sitting out front. A Plymouth Prowler. I saw it only for a half second then I saw the most beautiful woman I had ever seen in my life leaning against the door smoking a cigarette. She looked bored as hell. I was far too tongue tied to even think of talking to her so I was about to walk past when a hand came down to rest on my shoulder." I shift under the blankets. "Here was this guy dressed to the nines with his hair slicked back till it gleamed. At first I thought I might be about to get my ass kicked for starring at his girl then he smiles at me. His mouth full of gold." I look at her. She has a half smile on her face as if memories of better times are making her happy. "He told me that for a hundred dollars you would get naked, let me touch you anyway that I wanted and then give me a blowjob. He said that hell you would even swallow. A hundred bucks? Hell I had three of those in my wallet!" I see her slowly shaking her head. "I went to the hotel he pointed to down the street. Paid the man behind the desk the twenty bucks for a room. The nines guy led you in. I was afraid he was going to stay but he just checked out the room then smiled at me. Told you to make sure I had a very good time, then told me that you would be better than any girl I had ever had. I said I had never had any girl." Lorena starts to chuckle. "He told you too..." I start to say. "He told me... to give you the ride of your life." She says with a grin. "You remember?" I ask surprised. She shakes her head. "No, that was what he always did with virgins. It's the same thing as giving your best drugs to a new customer. Gets them hooked with the good stuff then slack off on the quality and tell them it just them getting use to it that they need to up the dose. He said 'Pussy' was the same." She smiles "I did it didn't I? Pulled out all the strings, went the whole young innocent girl just in the trade thing. Had you thinking I was fresh as a summer flower." I nod. "I remember that car." She says after a moment. "He wouldn't let me smoke in it. I had already been working for Tee Jay for four years when he got that one. Hell I think I made half the money for it myself." She gives her head a slight shake then she looks me in the eyes. "So you fell in love with me because I was your first?" "Yes. I was young, hell straight out of high school. I had only ever kissed a girl before. The one time I ever tried to feel one up she slapped me." Lorena laughs. "And then there was you." I reach over and brush back her hair. "My god you were so beautiful. I would have given the hundred just to sit there and watch you take off that skirt and top. I would have counted it as money well spent. You were the source of years worth of fantasy nights." Lorena laughs and shakes her head. "I was too shy to even touch you. So you took the lead and showed me how to do everything. I never knew that so simple a thing as touch could be so wonderful. You let me just explore your body finding every curve. Again I would have thought it money well spent had it ended then. But oh my god. The feeling of your mouth, then how warm and wet you were when I slipped into you. I could have spent a lifetime just holding you with me inside." I chuckle then. "It was far less than a lifetime, I hate to say. I must have cum in just minutes but you just kissed me and called me a man. You said that it would be wonderful to be with me again someday." She nods. "It's all sales pitch. I used it a lot back then to try and lure in more customers." She shrugs. "Some times I meant it. I can't say if I did with you or not. I truly can't remember you. Did I ever get back together with you after that?" "No. I tried to find you but I found out that you and Tee Jay had left. Come here in fact. I found that out just a little while ago though. The day after I saw you here for the first time." I take a long slow breath. " I didn't recognize you that day. A friend told me who you were and then I could see it." She chuckles. "Kind of like having your memories of a steak proven to have been Spam." She smiles and shrugs. "I was beautiful once. I was sexy and had a killer body, but in the end that was as much a curse as if I had been born ugly. I'm a whore Simon. I was a whore when you met me back in 97, I was a whore when you saw me back in the fall. I'm a whore right now. I will be a whore tomorrow and tomorrow after that. The only thing that changes is I get cheaper to fuck" I try to protest that but she places her hand over my mouth. I watch her swallow. "Thank you Simon. Thank you for trying to save the beautiful girl from your memories. It was worth the attempt...but you need to let her go. She died a long time ago. This is just a hollow shell of that girl. So I'm begging you...Simon...I'm begging you to please just go. Go get help, get yourself off these streets while you still can. Stop trying to say a girl that drugs and the street killed a long time ago." I catch the back of her head. I pull her to me till out foreheads meet. "Lorena.... I'm not trying to save her. I know that she is gone. She lives only in my memories now. I'm here for you. For the woman that life has kicked so many times that she no longer cares where the boots land. I will not leave you here in this cold to die. I will sit here and shiver next to you till the spring comes. Then I will be here with you all the way through summer and into the fall and then into next winter. I will be here year after year till I get you to let me help you." "Why? Why Simon? Why?" she asks. "Because you threw snow balls at me. I saw the laughing smiling woman that you could be then. I loved the sexy woman from my youth. I used memories of her as my fantasy for years to get me off. Her I would cross the street to help. Her I would empty my wallet to help. For her sake I would do a lot..." I look up at the falling snow. "But I would not endue this for her." "Not for her?" Lorena asks me softly. "No." I shake my head. "But I will for you." She goes quiet then. I open my arms and feel her snuggle into them. I hold her to me and then hold her tighter when she starts to cry. ** ** ** ** ** ** ** I awaken feeling warm. I open my eyes and look out under the cloth flap at the piles of snow. The world is so buried in it that the little shanty has gotten a good insulator around it. Between that and the warm of us under the blankets it's comfortable. She stirs and turns to look at me. She slips herself around till she's pressed up against my chest. I gently brush her hair. Slowly she looks up at me. I see the tears starting to form at the corners of her eyes. "Simon." "Yes Lorena?" She takes a deep breath. "I'm going to do something but I need your help," she sniffles. "I'm going to jump up... just as high as I can. Please catch me!" I pull her to me then. I feel my eyes flood with tears as she clings to me. "Catch me please Simon! Please." "I have you. I have you and I'm never letting go," I say as I start to rock her. "Please don't let me go. Hold as tight as you can. I may slip, I may even try to fall... I know I will. But please don't let me go," she begs softly. "I never will." Looking out into the snow I hold tight to her. I know that it will be a long cold walk to the shelter. I will have to call in dozens of past favors to get us off the streets. I will have to put old job skills back to work. It will be a struggle up hill all the way. As I feel the longings for the drug gnawing inside me... I know it will. But we will make it. We will...because of one little thing. "I never will let go."