Storiesonline.net
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                             Harry and Dante
                            by Lazlo Zalezac

Copyright© 2006 by Lazlo Zalezac


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Description: Dante is an artist, or at least he was an artist until his girlfriend left him for his best friend. For two years he has been unable to create anything. Then one day, a young man gives him a commission to create a statue. It is not just any statue, but a statue of Happy Harry.

Codes: rom
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Copyright© Lazlo Zalezac, 2006

I'd like to thank Drahkan for editing this story.

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Chapter 1


The man struck the chisel with a hammer and stared as a large chunk of the granite sheered off. Raising the hammer over his head, he brought it down on top of the massive granite block with an angry scream. A third of the block fell to the floor. A splinter shot out and cut his hand.

He threw the hammer to the floor and stomped off. He came to a stop and stamped his foot on the floor in frustration wishing he had something else to throw. Life was not working out for him. It hadn't always been that way. Three years ago, he was a nationally recognized artist for his bronze statues. His pieces were commanding incredible prices. There were interviews in art magazines and exhibits in the best galleries where he was the star. With the fame came huge parties with attractive women and lots of champagne. Life was good.

Then, without warning, his world crumbled at his feet. His girlfriend, his high school sweetheart, had walked out on him. Even worse, she had walked away with his best friend who he had known since childhood. Their parting shot that he was a self- involved asshole had ripped his heart out. Since that day, he hadn't been able create anything.

After a year of one creative failure after another, he had given up working with bronze and turned his attention to stone in the belief that he could work out his pain on solid rock and turn it into art. For two years, he had chiseled away at one block of stone after another. Despite working day and night, he had created nothing more impressive than piles of pebbles.

Frustrated about his art, his life, and his heart, he shook his fist at the ceiling and shouted, "Flawed. The stone is flawed. My work is flawed. I'm flawed!"

"Excuse me. Are you Dante?"

Dante spun around and looked at the young man who had spoken. Two years of working stone day and night had developed Dante's upper body to an incredible degree. He flexed to look intimidating and glared at the young man. In a gruff voice, he shouted, "Get lost kid!"

Unperturbed by the emotional outburst, the young man walked over to the block of marble and touched it. He walked around it examining the surface. After a minute, he stopped and stared at one spot on the stone. Without warning, his fist shot out and hit the block. A huge piece of marble fell to the floor. Turning to Dante, he said, "You are right about one thing. The stone is flawed. You might be right that your work is flawed, but I doubt it. You're wrong about you being flawed."

Dante stared at the chuck of stone that had fallen to the ground. The shock of what he had seen had driven away his frustration leaving him speechless. He swallowed and asked, "Who are you?"

"I'm William Redman Carter."

The name didn't mean anything to Dante. He shrugged and asked, "What do you want?"

"I want to commission you to create some bronze statues," William answered as he wandered over to an example of the man's bronze work.

Dante was afraid that he wouldn't be able to deliver on the commission. Despite needing the money, he chose to refuse the offer. In an attempt to discourage the kid as quickly as possible, he said, "Look kid, that kind of commission costs a lot of money."

"Money is no object," William answered running a hand over the smooth bronze statue. It wasn't the best work the man had done. He'd seen an excellent example of the man's work on display at the Native American College. This piece suggested that something was missing from the creative act.

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"You haven't heard what I want," William countered. He turned to examine Dante and wondered why he was putting up such a fight.

"I don't do bronze work any more. I've moved onto stone." Even as he said it, he knew had been considering throwing together a couple of junk bronze statues. His agent could sell them and the money would tide him over for another year. It didn't matter if the pieces were of ducks or turtles, someone would buy it because of the residual reputation that he had.

"You'll accept this commission because it is too good to pass up."

Shrugging his shoulders, Dante didn't want to admit that he was intrigued by the kid's persistence. He asked, "What do you want?"

William handed him several photographs and said, "I want a bust of the man in these pictures."

"That's John Carter," Dante said recognizing the man immediately. Only one other artist had been commissioned to capture the man's image in an artistic medium. She was famous.

William smiled at the beginning glow of interest and said, "Yes. He's my father. I also want a full body statue of him for placement outside the Druid College."

Dante couldn't decide if William was serious about wanting a bust and a statue. The idea of having one of his pieces placed in front of the Druid College was very tempting, but not tempting enough. He asked, "Anything else?"

William handed another packet of photographs to Dante. He answered, "I want a bust of my grandfather, William Redman. One of the castings will be placed in the Native American College."

"Sure, no problem," Dante replied in a mocking manner. He wondered how the kid could assure placement of those pieces in such prominent locations. He'd heard that the Native American College already had one of his pieces, but he wasn't sure if it was on display or just held as an investment.

"I also want a bust and a statue of another man," William said.

"So let me get this straight. You want a bust and a statue of your father; a bust of your grandfather; and a bust and statue of some other guy. Multiple casting of each, I assume."

"Right."

"Do you have any idea how much that will cost you?"

William held out a check and answered, "I have a fairly good idea."

Dante looked down at the check and swallowed. It had more zeros in it than he could count. There was no way he could accept a commission this large considering that he didn't think he could deliver on it. He said, "I think that is a bit more than required."

"No. I want two castings of the statue of my father and eight hundred castings of the other statue. I want two castings of each of the busts."

The amount on the check was still almost a million more than he would have charged. He said, "That check is still too large."

"The extra is to pay for the difficulty in getting the other man to pose for you," William said with a smile.

"Who is it?"

"Happy Harry."

The name didn't mean anything to Dante. He looked back down at the check unable to believe the amount written on it. He asked, "Why is it going to be difficult?"

William laughed as he considered the months that Dante was about to experience. He said, "You are going to have to travel with him. He's the last of the Hoboes."

"Do you mean I'm going to have to jump on trains?" Dante asked. He had visions of running after a train with a clay statue and trying to jump onto it.

"No. He has a Roach Coach that he drives around. The problem is that he doesn't stay in one place for very long. You'll have to travel with him and work during those few moments when he's still."

Dante stared at the check. He looked at the pictures of John Carter marveling at the raw power of the spirit that was captured within them. The amazing strength of character in the face of the grandfather beckoned him to accept the job. His doubts in his ability held him back.

William turned to leave. Before he reached the door, he stopped and turned back to face Dante. He said, "I'll be by to pick you up Friday and take you to Happy Harry. His statues are to be the first pieces I want delivered."

"I didn't say I'd take the job."

"Oh. Did I mention that the statues of Happy Harry are going to be placed at locations supported by the Fusion Foundation?"

"No," Dante answered with a frown. He asked, "How can you assure placement of these works?"

"John Carter founded the Druid College and they would like a bronze statue of him. William Redman founded the Native American College and they would like a bronze bust of him. My other father, Ed Biggers, is Chairman of the Board for the Fusion Foundation," William answered.

"Oh," Dante said wondering if he could deliver the commission.

"I'll see you Friday."

Dante looked down at his luggage and wondered how he was going to tote so much stuff around. He had fifty pounds of clay, stands, tools, sketch pads, and his clothes. He looked up when three Huggers pulled into the drive in front of his studio. Once they had parked the car, a couple he'd never seen before got out and looked around. The woman walked over and asked, "Are you Dante?"

"Yes," Dante answered glancing over at the second car. William and a young woman got out and headed in his direction. Another couple had gotten out of the third Hugger. Looking at William, he asked, "What's going on?"

"Bodyguard paranoia. My mother insisted that they come along on this trip. She's afraid that I'm going to pick up hitchhikers or something," William answered. He received a sharp look from Rock for his answer. Smiling at Rock, William said, "Let's get his stuff in the car."

"Uh... ," Dante started to say.

"Allow me to introduce you to Lucy, my wife," William said. "Lucy, this is Dante. He's going to do a bust and a statue of Happy Harry."

Lucy smiled at Dante and said, "You are in for quite a time. I kind of envy you."

"Oh, thanks."

While they were talking, Rock went over and picked up the hunk of clay. Dante was about to warn him that it was heavy, but the man handled the load as if it were no heavier than a pillow. That impressed Dante much more than he was willing to admit. He watched as the four bodyguards loaded his gear into the back of the middle Hugger. While they worked, William pointed to each one and said, "That's Rock, Colt, Nicole, and Natalie."

"Is that it?" Rock asked when he returned to where Dante was standing.

"Yes."

"Let's go," Nicole said. "You ride with us."

"No, he rides with me," William corrected. He said, "We have business to discuss."

"You're the boss," Rock said with a frown.

William got into the front of the Hugger after directing Dante into the passenger side back seat. Lucy climbed into the car behind William and turned to Dante. She asked, "Are you looking forward to traveling with Happy Harry?"

"I don't really know what that means," Dante replied.

William pulled out of the drive behind the Hugger being driven by Rock. He checked his mirror and saw that Colt had moved into position behind him. William started humming a traveling song. He was looking forward to seeing Happy Harry again, but wondered how the old man would react when he dropped Dante off in his lap.

"It means that you are about to get a grand tour of the country with one of the most personable tour guides in the world. He'll have you laughing, singing, and crying all within a ten minute period. You're going the hear stories the likes of which you'd never believe," Lucy said.

William chimed in, "You'll also be getting a new name."

"Huh?"

Lucy chatted with Dante while William followed behind Rock. They'd been traveling for an hour when William suddenly steered over to the side of the highway shouting, "That's Lady Lucy!"

Lucy turned around and looked. A huge smile crossed her face upon seeing the bag lady walking beside the highway pushing her shopping cart. She nudged Dante and said, "Get up front. Lady Lucy will sit back here with me."

Dante stared at the bag lady in confusion. Rather than argue, he climbed out after William had stopped and got into the front seat. William had jumped out of the car and shouted, "Lady Lucy!"

The bag lady, leaving the cart behind, hurried up to the car. Rock had stopped a mile up the road and was tearing down the shoulder in reverse at twenty miles an hour. Colt had managed to stop behind William and had just missed hitting the bag lady. Seeing William open the door for Lucy, Colt hit the send button on his radio and said, "William. I thought we agreed that you wouldn't pick up hitchhikers."

Hitting the send button on his radio, William answered, "She's not a hitchhiker. She's Harry's girlfriend."

Turning to Lady Lucy, William said, "Colt will take care of your shopping cart. Get in and ride with us."

Lady Lucy didn't answer. She just turned to watch her cart. Colt got out and loaded the shopping cart into the back of his Hugger. Nicole had to get out and help him wrestle it into place. Once the cart was stowed, Lady Lucy climbed into the Hugger. Seeing the young lady, she said, "Lucy Diamonds! It's good to see you and Half Feather. I was getting a little tired of walking."

"Lady Lucy. You won't believe where we're going."

"Where?"

"We're going to visit Happy Harry," Lucy exclaimed.

"That man of mine. You've got to love him. He treats me like a queen."

Dante turned in his seat and examined the bag lady. Her leathery skin was rough and cracked from being in the sun all of the time. Her hair, streaked with gray, looked a lot like a bird's nest. She did have the most remarkable blue eyes, but the scars on her face pulled one's attention away from them. He couldn't imagine anyone wanting to treat her like a queen. He wondered what kind of man this Happy Harry character was. Rather than comment, he watched William get back in the car.

"William is the same way. All I have to do is think I want something and he's off doing it for me."

Lady Lucy nudged the younger woman with a dirty elbow and said, "You know what they say."

"Not sure," Lucy answered.

"Once a man has bedded a Lucy, he'll never be satisfied with a Susan, Jane, or Mary," she said and then burst into laughter. She slapped her thigh and rocked in the seat.

Lucy laughed along with her. After she stopped laughing, she winked at the older woman. She leaned forward and tapped William on the shoulder. In a sweet voice, she asked, "William, is that true?"

William shot a look of desperation in the general direction of Dante and answered, "I'll never know. Once I bedded a Lucy, I never wanted to bed anyone else."

Lady Lucy laughed and said, "You've been around Harry too long. That man can pitch woo like no one else can."

Dante listened to the exchange puzzled by what he was hearing. He knew that William was rich. The young woman with him looked like the girl next door. He couldn't imagine what they had in common with a bag lady. He asked, "How do you know each other?"

Maneuvering the Hugger behind Rock's Hugger, William said, "Oh, I'm sorry. We didn't perform the introductions. Dante, the amazing woman behind you is Lady Lucy. She's the one true love of Happy Harry. Lady Lucy, this gentleman is Dante. He's going to be making a statue of Happy Harry."

She leaned forward and tapped Dante on the shoulder. She asked, "Will it be anatomically correct?"

"Huh?" Dante asked. No one had ever asked him that about a statue before.

"I'd hate to lug around a statue of Harry if it wasn't."

Lucy laughed at the comment. William smiled and said, "The Gods and Goddesses love a randy woman."

"I'm not sure what kind of statue I'll be doing yet," Dante replied. He wondered if Happy Harry was going to be a filthy homeless man.

Lady Lucy asked, "So where's Harry?"

"He's in Cleveland," William answered.

"What a coincidence. That just happens to be where I was headed," Lady Lucy said.

They finally reached Cleveland. Rock led the way to the Homeless Hotel where Harry was supposed to be staying. William followed behind. They were approaching an area filled with old deserted buildings when Lady Lucy tapped William on the arm. She said, "Let me out down here."

William tapped the send button and said, "Rock, pull over. Lady Lucy wants to be let out here."

William pulled over to the side of the road. Lucy said, "Thanks for the ride, Half Feather. You're a good kid. Let Harry know that I'll be staying at the old warehouse. He'll know which one."

"Will do, Lady Lucy," William said.

"Lucy Diamonds, you take care of Half Feather. A couple hours in bed would do you both a world of good," she said while climbing out of the car. Seeing that Colt had managed to get her shopping cart out of the back of his Hugger, she headed over to it. She wouldn't let him go until she had checked every item in the cart.

The arrival of three Huggers at the Homeless Hotel created quite a stir among the homeless. The excitement only increased when William, Lucy, and Dante exited the car. Men and women from all over the site shouted, "Hello Half Feather."

Smiling, William answered, "Hello everyone!"

Dante heard one man ask another, "Is that Lucy Diamonds?"

Another man said, "It's got to be Lucy Diamonds."

"She's such a pretty little thing. Harry said she was pretty, but I didn't imagine she'd be that pretty."

One of the men finally called out, "Hello Lucy Diamonds."

Smiling, Lucy waved and answered, "Hello, guys! I'm Lucy Diamonds."

One of the men pushed Dante out of the way and asked, "Could I get you some coffee, Lucy Diamonds?"

"That would be sweet of you. Could you please put in a packet of the powdered cream," Lucy replied. She was used to how coffee was served in the Homeless Hotels and knew how to ask for it.

One of the men nudged the one who had offered coffee and said, "You should have offered her tea. Ladies like tea."

Dante couldn't believe the men lining up to help the young woman. He turned in time to see a green robed Druid come out of the food shack. He was carrying a Shepherd's Staff in one hand. An amused grin came over the man's face when he spotted the young couple. He was shocked when the Druid said, "Hello Lucy Diamonds. I see you brought Half Feather with you. I keep hoping to get you alone and you always drag him along. You break an old man's heart."

Lucy laughed and said, "Good news, broken hearted old man. We dropped off Lady Lucy back at the warehouses."

A general murmur broke out amongst the men as they all went, "Oh!"

Harry laughed and said, "That is good news indeed."

Dante had watched the exchange. Although the Druid looked upon Lucy like a friend, he looked at William as if the young man was his son. The Druid stepped over to William and put a hand on his shoulder. He asked, "So what brings Half Feather out here to see me?"

William winked at Dante and said, "Oh, we didn't come here to see you. We came here to see Lady Lucy."

Happy Harry laughed and looked around. His eyes lit upon Dante. Curious, he asked, "And who is this gentlemen you brought with you?"

"Ah, that is Dante. I want him to travel around with you for a couple of months," William answered. Turning to Dante, he said, "Dante, this old reprobate is Happy Harry."

Dante realized that the man he was to sculpt was the Druid. Surprised he said, "You're a Druid."

"Ugly green dress. Big gold medallion. I better be a Druid or else I'm the ugliest transvestite in the world," Harry answered with a grin. He turned to look at one of the homeless men and added, "And don't say that the jury is still out on that one."

"He didn't tell me you were a Druid. He said you were a Hobo," Dante said. He hadn't known what to expect to find, but he hadn't expected it to be a Druid.

"That's right. I'm Happy Harry, the last of the Hoboes." He turned and gestured to one of the men. Turning back to Dante, he said, "Boy Scout will help you settle in. He'll find you some work in camp so you can eat tonight and in the morning. We'll be leaving here after breakfast for Buffalo."

"Huh?"

Harry turned to Boy Scout and said, "Let him put his gear in the wagon. I'll be back after a little visit with Lady Lucy."

Harry walked over to where the four bodyguards were watching the activity. Seeing the tension in their bodies, he paused and leaned forward as if he was sharing some great secret. In a theatrical voice, he said, "Ah, I see the cavalry is here. I hate to tell you this, but you're supposed to be protecting the settlers from the Indians and not the Indians from the settlers."

Unable to help it, Rock burst out laughing and said, "No wonder this job has been so hard. We've been doing it wrong all this time."

Dante found the Druid's comment very funny and started laughing almost uncontrollably. The statement had captured his entire experience beginning from the moment when William had picked him up that morning. It was several minutes before he recovered. By that time, the Druid was gone.

The man who Harry had identified as Boy Scout asked, "Where's your gear?"

"In the back of the Hugger."

Rock and Colt quickly unloaded the gear and carried it into the storage area of the Roach Coach. Boy Scout had watched the two men hustle all of the stuff with a puzzled look. Turning to Dante, he said, "You sure travel heavy. What are you?"

"I'm an artist," Dante answered.

Boy Scout nodded his head and studied Dante for a moment. In a matter of fact voice, he said, "That's a good way to starve. Come with me, Hungry Man."

Dante followed Boy Scout around the camp. When he returned to the open area, he found that William, Lucy, and the four bodyguards were gone. Standing there, he realized that he was alone and surrounded by the refuse of society. He began to get worried.



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Chapter 2


Dante headed over to the fire pit and started to sit down on a cinder block. One of the other men said, "Don't sit there. If Jewels sees you on his chair, he'll hurt you."

"Oh." Dante moved to a different spot and started to sit down.

"Don't sit there. You don't sit on other peoples places," the same man said.

Looking around at the collection of cinderblocks and egg crates placed haphazardly around the area, Dante asked, "So where can I sit?"

"Over on one of the railroad ties. That's the public seating."

Dante sat down on one of the railroad ties while wondering what kind of world he had entered. He went over everything that had happened since that first afternoon in his studio and tried to make sense of it. He was lost in his thoughts went someone nudged him and said, "Hungry Man, he's talking to you."

"Hungry Man?" Dante asked looking at a homeless man he didn't recognize.

"That's your name," the man said.

"I'm Dante."

"You're Hungry Man, the starvin' artist."

When William had said that he'd get a new name, he hadn't realized that the young man was serious about it. Deciding that this was a battle he couldn't win, he accepted the new name. Trying to look a lot more confident than he felt, he shrugged his shoulders and said, "Okay, I'm Hungry Man. What do you want?"

From across the circle, Boy Scout asked, "So what are you doing here?"

"William hired me to make a statue of Happy Harry," Dante answered.

"So you are a real artist. That's interesting. I wonder if Harry knows why you are here."

Starting to wonder the same thing, Dante said, "I assume he does."

The crowd of men chuckled at his statement. He said, "When it comes to Happy Harry and Half Feather, don't assume anything."

"So who is Happy Harry?"

"You met him," Boy Scout answered looking across the circle at Dante with amusement. He figured out that William hadn't told Hungry Man anything about Harry and hadn't told Harry anything about Hungry Man. Things were going to get interesting around camp the next morning. Smiling, he said, "Well, you better get busy earning your dinner. How are you at peeling potatoes?"

"Okay, I guess," Dante answered wondering why he needed to peel potatoes to earn his dinner. He was supposed to be creating a statue of Happy Harry.

"Well, come along with me and I'll show you to the kitchen."

Dante followed the man to the food shack. It was a small place and crowded, but everything necessary in a kitchen was there. Pointing to an egg crate, Boy Scout said, "You can sit there while you're peeling the potatoes. You look like you're a little shocked by everything. The chance to sit here and think while you're peeling potatoes will do you a world of good."

"Thanks. I'm kind of confused. This isn't what I expected," Dante said.

Boy Scout handed him a potato peeler. Noticing the man's hands were all scarred up with huge calluses, he asked, "What happened to your hands?"

"I've been working in stone. It tends to eat up the hands a bit. You bust loose little chips and sometimes they cut you. Holding the hammer and chisel all day tends to produce calluses," Dante said looking down at his hands. He was worried that he'd lost too much sensitivity in his hands and wouldn't be able to feel the clay under his fingers. He wondered if it was too late to back out of the commission.

"Oh. Better get to work on those potatoes. I hate undercooked potatoes in my stew," Boy Scout said as he stepped out of the shack. He turned back and watched as Dante picked up a potato and started to peel it. He wondered why William had chosen him to make a statue of Harry. A second thought occurred to him. He wondered why William wanted a statue of Harry.

While he worked, Dante decided that Boy Scout had been correct about one thing. The chance to work on something as simple as peeling potatoes was a good way to get his thoughts in order. He considered his life. Since the day his girlfriend had announced that she was moving in with his best friend, Dante had been alone. Hiding in his studio, he had thrown himself into his work. The problem was that his work had been uninspired. The pieces he produced were junk. Something essential was missing in his work and he didn't know what it was.

One morning he had woken up and looked at a misshapen hunk of clay. He had been preparing to make a mold of it in order to cast it. It was trash and he knew it. He had realized that he had lost it. Searching for some other direction to pursue in his artistic quest, he had selected stone. After two years of effort, he hadn't created a single piece that he was willing to show anyone. Frowning, he decided that he had learned one important fact. He wasn't any good in stone.

When he reached the last potato, he didn't want to leave the privacy of the food shack. After peeling it, he started to carve it with the potato peeler. The only face that came to mind was that of Boy Scout. Idly, he worked over the potato while his thoughts were still on his life situation. He decided that he was a fraud and that he should give the check back to William. For him to waste such an opportunity while another artist could do a better job just didn't seem right to him.

Finished with the carving, he looked at it. The features of the homeless man had been captured in the potato, but something was missing. It was a representation of the man, but it was lifeless. Even worse, it was ugly. Shrugging his shoulders, he said, "It's just a potato."

Boy Scout came into the food shack and said, "I hope you're done. Jester Bob here needs to peel some carrots for the stew."

Dante stood and put the last potato in the pot of water. Boy Scout noticed the unusually shaped potato. He picked it out of the water and looked at it. After a minute, he said, "Nice likeness of me. Of course the expression looks like someone just stuck a carrot up my ass."

Jester Bob grinned and said, "Now you did it. I'm going to be sitting here peeling carrots, with a hard-on, while imagining a carrot stuck up my ass."

"Jester Bob, you are almost as bad as Merv the Perv," Boy Scout said with a chuckle.

Dante looked over at the potato and considered the comment about it. The criticism had an element of truth about it; he had caught the wrong moment of time in it. Thinking further, he realized that he hadn't caught a single moment of time, but a series of moments for different parts of it. The result had been a hodge-podge of different expressions shoved together.

Shaking his head, he left the shack and returned to the railroad tie. He sat down and looked at the men around him. He realized that he wasn't seeing with his artist's eye. He'd been seeing the superficial features of the people around him. It was as if he was shying away from seeing too deeply into the world around him. Had the loss of his girlfriend and best friend stolen his ability to look beyond the surface? Was he afraid of what he'd learn if he looked too deeply into the soul of his subject? The questions sent chills down his spine.

He tried to remember the features of Lady Lucy. To his shock and dismay, he realized that he just had a general impression of her. All he'd noticed was her skin, her hair, her eyes, and the scars on her face. He couldn't recall the shape of her face, the line of her nose, or her lips. He knew she had ears, but couldn't recall even looking at them. He couldn't say what kind of smile she had or how she looked when laughing. He did recall that she had laughed a lot.

He looked at the men and women moving around the homeless hotel. Each was unique in appearance. Some were tall and lanky. Others were short and squatty. A few were fat, but even they were different in how they were fat. There were people who were large all over while others had pot bellies. Some moved with grace while one fellow with a twisted spine moved in a rough rolling gait that was painful to watch.

There were all different kinds of noses; some were bulbous while others were thin. The faces were fat, thin, square, and round. Sprinkled onto the canvas of the face were moles, freckles, wrinkles, scars, and defects. Together, all of those things gave each person a unique face.

He tried to remember the Walt Whitman poem, but all he could remember was the first line, "I sing the body electric." He recalled that it was a celebration of the human body, but couldn't remember the details. He remembered studying anatomy in art school. It had been a dry subject without the kind of passion expressed in the Whitman poem. He wondered if he had ever had that kind of passion about his subjects.

It was hours later when Boy Scout announced, "Come and get it."

Dante stood in line behind a dozen other men. More men lined up behind him. One at a time they received a bowl of stew, a slice of bread, and an apple. The portions were generous. The stew was good, but the bread was a little stale. Turning to a guy seated next to him, he asked, "Why's the bread stale?"

"We get two day old bread here. In some of the richer areas, they get day old bread. This is a poor neighborhood. The folks will buy day old bread to save a little money so we get the two day old bread. We really can't complain, much. At least we get bread," the man answered. He went back to eating his stew.

"You mean we buy two day old bread?"

"Buy? No, the stores donate it to us," another man said. He pointed into the stew with his spoon and said, "They give us the meat on the day it expires. If they didn't give it to us, they'd have to throw it out the next day. Of course, it's still good. We even get stew made with steak rather than stew meat."

Dante stared at the bowl of stew trying to decide what that meant in terms of freshness. Since he never checked the expiration dates on the food he bought, he decided that he'd probably been eating lots of meat that he had purchased on the day it expired. He dug in and ate the rest of the stew. It tasted good.

He asked, "What's for breakfast?"

"Day old donuts, bagels, or fruits. It'll be your choice which one you get," the man said. He turned to study Dante for a minute before he said, "I'm Rocket Man. What's your handle?"

"They've been calling me Hungry Man," Dante answered with a shrug.

"Ah, you're the starving artist. I heard this is your first day on the streets," Rocket Man said.

"Why are you called Rocket Man?" Dante asked.

"I was a janitor at NASA before the booze cost me my job. It was a pity too. It was the best job I ever had."

"So who are the rest of these guys?"

Pointing to the food shack, Rocket Man answered, "You've met Boy Scout. He was an Eagle Scout before he discovered crack back in the day when it was common. I imagine that he'll be moving back into society before long. The Fusion Foundation will help him get a management position in some small company somewhere.

"No one has ever seen Grumpy over there smile despite the fact that he travels around with Jester Bob. I've never understood why they travel together. Why would a man travel with one of the funniest guys in the world if he doesn't know how to laugh?"

"Maybe it is to keep from crying," Dante said wishing that he had a Jester Bob in his life.

"I hadn't thought about it like that," Rocket Man said. He pointed to a man who was seated in a lawn chair and said, "That man nodding off over there is The Speedster. I swear he has to be the laziest man alive. You might have noticed that he didn't even go over to get his own bowl of stew. He claims it is a medical condition.

"The fellow sitting next to him is Cracker Jack; he was dishonorably discharged from the British Navy."

At hearing that the man was dishonorably discharged, Dante asked, "What did he do?"

"Not sure what he did; he's never told us his story. You're lucky to meet him when he's sober. When he drinks, he's the meanest drunk I've ever encountered. When he gets drunk, we tie him up for the night for our own protection."

"Wouldn't it be better if he was sent to jail?" Dante asked. He didn't like the idea of people tying up another person. There were laws about those kinds of things.

"Oh, he doesn't drink all that often. Lock up isn't really a solution. He'd just get out after a while and get in even worse trouble the next time. If we can keep him under control on those infrequent occasions when he drinks, then it is all for the best," Rocket Man shrugged and added, "Harry thinks we should look out for each other. I guess that is all part of it."

A well dressed young man sat down on the cinderblock Dante had attempted to sit on earlier. He had a bunch of gold chains around his neck, rings on his fingers, and earrings with semi-precious stones. Curious to see so many things of real dollar value on a person in the Homeless Hotel, he pointed in the direction of the guy and asked, "Is that Jewels?"

"Yeah. That's Jewels. He sells blowjobs down on the strip to get money. He uses the money to buy gold chains and jewelry. He'll get rolled by a group of faggot bashers and lose it all. After that happens, he'll move to another town and start all over again. He's a tough little bastard, though."

"Faggot bashers?"

"Faggot bashers are a bunch of kids who think it is fun to go out and beat up boys who like boys. Half of the time, they are actually closet queens trying to show how manly they are. The closet queens are the ones that you have to worry about."

"So Jewels is gay." "Gay doesn't really describe Jewels. He'll sleep with anything, boy or girl, young or old. Hell, I imagine he'd even have sex with a goat. I don't think it is really a sexual thing at all."

"Why does he do it?" Dante knew that a lot of individuals who hung around with artists were bisexual, but that it was often a lifestyle decision that had very little to do with real desire. Occasionally sleeping with someone of the same sex was one way that pseudo-artists tried to demonstrate their artistic nature. He always found those individuals rather shallow. There were some who definitely liked their own gender. He didn't know what to think about it, though.

"Hang around and you'll hear the tale from his own lips," Rocket Man said. He didn't like to tell other people's stories. Shaking his head, he said, "You stay around here long enough, you'll hear enough stories to last a lifetime."

It started to get dark and Boy Scout started a fire in the fire pit. More men wandered into the Homeless Hotel. Most sat down on the railroad ties while a few sat down on cinder blocks or egg crates. Once the fire was going, one of the men said, "Half Feather and Lucy Diamonds were here today."

"You don't say. What does she look like?" Jewels asked.

"She's the cutest little lady you'd ever want to see. I got her a cup of coffee. Hard to imagine, but she said please and thank you. She's a real lady," the man answered. He was silent for a moment and then added, "She hugged me before they left."

Dante turned to Rocket Man and asked, "What's with how people talk about Happy Harry, Half Feather, and Lucy Diamonds? You'd think they are royalty or something."

"Happy Harry says that everyone is as valuable as anyone else. That's not exactly true though. Happy Harry is probably one of the most special people in the world. He's the one who set up all of these Homeless Hotels. He helps us out when we need it. He's a Druid and the Goddess has truly blessed him. She blessed us through him. We're nothing compared to him."

"Druids are important people, but what about Half Feather?"

"Half Feather was just eight years old when he started traveling around with Harry. The young man is special in the same way as Harry. He might not be a Druid, but the Gods and Goddesses have touched him. Most people flinch when one of us puts a hand on them. Half Feather has never had that problem. He accepts us, he helps us, and I really believe that he cares for us. You don't know how important that is.

"We can't do much for people like Harry and Half Feather, but we can try to protect them from folks who mean them harm. When Half Feather declared that Lucy Diamonds was his one true love, we pledged that we'd protect her so that Half Feather wouldn't lose her.

"Bottle Cap made that promise on our behalf, but that was before we got to know her. Even if she wasn't the one true love of Half Feather, we'd have promised to protect her. She's just as good of a person as Half Feather. She looks you in the eye like you are an equal. She'll help clean you up when you've been sick from the drink. She'll feed you and take care of you when you've got a real problem. She's a saint."

Dante had seen how Lucy treated Lady Lucy. There wasn't even a hint of hesitation in talking to, touching, or hugging the bag lady. It sounded to him like the man knew Lucy Diamonds. He asked, "So you've met her before?"

"Never saw her, but I've heard all about her," Rocket Man answered. With homeless men traveling around the country, stories about good and bad people traveled with them. The exceptional people became known across the entire country. The homeless person who hurt one of the special people could count their life span in minutes.

"So I guess Half Feather and Lucy Diamonds are unique."

"No. There are others who are just as special. There's the Chicago Angel, the Miami Knight, the Duke and Duchess of Dallas, and the Seattle Saint."

"You've met them?"

"I went to the wedding of the Chicago Angel. She was really lovely that afternoon. I have to admit that I cried like a baby when she said, 'I do.' She'd just gotten her new knees and could actually walk up to where the ceremony was being held," Rocket Man said shaking his head while losing himself in his memories.

"There's a whole world that I know nothing about," Dante said. He listened to the men tell their stories. It didn't take long for him to figure out that they were sharing news of things that were happening across the country. There were stories about events in Los Angeles and a gang that had been harassing the homeless. There was a story about a person who was killing prostitutes in Memphis. They hadn't caught the man yet, but people were looking for him.

Dante was learning more about what was happening across the country than he could learn by listening to the news on television. He was hearing eye witness accounts from folks the reporters would never put on television. A few accounts of events were first hand, but most were second hand.

A man wandered over to the fire carrying an egg crate. Putting it down on the ground near the fire, he sat down and looked around at the faces. He cleared his throat and said, "Hello everyone. I'm Lucky Eddie and I just got in from Dallas. I've got news."

The announcement caused a bit of a stir. Jewels asked, "How's the Duke?"

The man said, "He's doing fine. His wife, the Duchess, had a baby girl yesterday morning. I heard about it just as I was leaving town."

Dante watched in shock as men settled bets. He couldn't believe they'd bet on the gender of baby born across the country. Boy Scout said, "I bet they named her Amy."

"Amelia," Lucky Eddie said.

"Makes sense," Boy Scout said nodding his head. Everyone else nodded their heads in agreement.

Dante leaned over to Rocket Man and asked, "Why does it make sense?"

"The Chicago Angel found the Duchess after she'd been raped. She took her in and helped her out. She actually kept the Duchess in her own home until she was strong enough to get around on her own. Harry introduced the Duke to the Duchess and the rest was history. They cleaned themselves up, got real jobs, and finally opened their own restaurant. They never forgot their origins. They've been taking care of the homeless in Dallas for five years now. They feed hundreds of us every holiday. They organize food drives. They give people who are ready to get back into society jobs and work experience."

"So why did they name the girl Amelia?"

"Ah, the real name of the Chicago Angel is Amy," Rocket Man answered.

"Oh," Dante said. He was quiet for a minute and then asked, "Don't you guys have anything better to do than gossip?"

Rocket Man laughed at the question. He answered, "What else do we have to do except gossip?"

The fire burned down and men wandered off to bed. Dante wasn't tired, so he stayed where he was. When it was just him and Boy Scout around the fire, Boy Scout said, "You might want to head off to bed. Morning comes early around here."

"Where's Harry?"

"He's off with Lady Lucy, but he'll be back before breakfast time. What? Are you afraid that he went off without you?"

"Yes."

"The Roach Coach is still here. Even if it wasn't, you wouldn't need to worry. If Half Feather asked Happy Harry to take you with him, then he won't leave you behind."

"Thanks."

"For what?"

"Telling me that I didn't need to worry," Dante said.

Boy Scout shrugged his shoulders and headed to the storage shack. He slept in it so that he could hand out blankets if anyone showed up late. It was also a lot more comfortable than a section of sewer pipe.

Dante got up and headed to the section of sewer pipe in which he was supposed to sleep that night. The sound of snores echoing through the night made it easy to find the bank of sewer pipes despite the dark. His bed was on the second row and third from the end. The blanket was where he had left it at the opening.

He climbed in, hitting his head in the process. The wooden platform was hard, but it kept his body off the cold cement. He covered his body with the woolen blanket, hitting his head a second time when he tried sitting up to adjust the blanket around his feet. He laid on his back staring at the concrete above him. He sighed and said, "It's going to be a long night."



-------

Chapter 3


Happy Harry stood outside the section of sewer pipe and looked at the feet hanging out the end. Using his shepherd's staff, he nudged the man on his side. The man rolled over and sat up with the result that he hit his head. Dante swore, "Damn! That hurts."

"Got to be careful in there," Harry said with a grin.

Dante rubbed his head where he had hit it. He groaned and asked, "What time is it?"

"Sunrise. Breakfast will be in ten minutes. We'll leave after breakfast."

"How do I get out of here?"

Harry shook his head while wondering what kind of problem William had given him. There had been no hints about the need to learn respect for the homeless or social responsibility. William had said nothing, but it was clear the guy was going to be a problem. Until he knew more, he'd let it ride. He answered, "You'll figure it out."

Feeling like a worm, Dante inched his way down the length of the pipe. When his legs hung over the edge, he rolled over on his stomach and inched back more until he could lower his feet to the ground. When he straightened out, he hit the back of his head on the edge of the pipe. He swore and said, "That hurts."

Looking around, he didn't find Harry. Other men were climbing out their beds. They handled the exit with much greater ease than he had. None of them had hit their heads. He folded the blanket to return it to Boy Scout since he was leaving after breakfast.

He wandered in the general direction of the food shack. A number of men were already standing around drinking coffee and waiting for the food to become available. A couple of men were walking off with trash sacks. He wondered what they were doing. His curiosity was satisfied when he heard Boy Scout tell another man, "You know the rules. Earn the food first and then you can get the food. Take this sack and fill it with trash."

He went over to get a sack figuring that he had to earn his breakfast. Boy Scout looked at him and asked, "What do you want?"

"Aren't I supposed to pick up trash to get breakfast?" Dante asked.

"You earned it yesterday peeling those potatoes. Don't you remember that?"

"Oh. I'm still waking up," Dante said in a lame attempt to hide his ignorance. "Here's my blanket."

Boy Scout looked at him for a good ten seconds and then said, "I don't want your dirty blanket back. For all I know, you pissed on it in your sleep. It's yours to keep."

"Oh. So what am I supposed to do until breakfast?"

Pointing to a coffee urn, Boy Scout said, "There's coffee over there."

Dante went over and got a cup of coffee. He stood in front of the urn and took a sip of out of the cup. He was savoring the rush of caffeine when Jewels growled, "Move out of the way, Hungry Man."

Dante stepped over to the side. "Sorry."

Harry walked over to Dante and stood with crossed arms staring at him with a frown on his face. Boy Scout had told him a strange tale about an artist who was going to create a statue of him. He exhaled loudly through his nose. It was close to a snort, but it was not quite short enough to qualify as one. He said, "Hungry Man, William put you up to this, didn't he?"

"He hired me to do this," Dante answered realizing that Happy Harry had not known he was there to create a statue of the man.

"He hired you?"

"Oh yes. He's paying me a lot of money to make a statue of you," Dante said. He wondered if that information would free him from having to work around the Homeless Hotel for dinner.

"We'll talk about this later," Harry said while turning away. He started fishing through his pockets trying to find his cell phone. He had just pulled it out when it rang. Surprised he looked at the caller id and answered it, "What are you trying to pull?"

"Hi Harry," William said. The young man's voice was entirely too cheerful for the time of day.

"Don't hi Harry me. What's this about a statue?" Happy Harry asked.

"Eight hundred castings of a statue and two castings of a bust," William corrected.

"I'll bust you."

"I'm sure you will. Have a good breakfast," William said just before hanging up. Harry could hear the young man's laughter before the call cut off.

Thirty minutes after breakfast, Dante climbed into the Roach Coach and closed the door. He'd just finished the most miserable shower of his life. He wondered what kind of person would have designed the Homeless Hotel with unheated outdoor showers. His balls had tried to climb into his body. He was sure that his scream of shock was loud enough to wake the dead.

Harry climbed into the wagon and said, "Only thirty minutes late and we're about to shuffle off to Buffalo. Hang on because this here beast has more sway in it than a tree in a hurricane."

The rocking motion started as soon as Harry pulled out of the Homeless Hotel. Looking out the window, Dante could see the ground rise up towards him. Panicked, Dante shouted, "We're going to fall over!"

"Bosh! It just has a little sway to it. That's all."

"It should be sent to a junk yard!"

Ignoring the comment about his wagon, Harry said, "Now tell me about this statue you're supposed to do of me. Did William tell you why he wanted it?"

Dante shook his head and said, "Nope. He just said that castings were going to be placed in Fusion Foundation sites."

"Did he say locations supported by the Fusion Foundation or Fusion Foundation Buildings?"

"Locations supported by the Fusion Foundation," Dante answered trying to recall William's words exactly. He thought they meant the same thing.

"That sneaky brat," Harry said when he realized what William was doing. Looking over at Dante, he said, "William wants to immortalize me by turning this fine figure of a man into a repository for bird shit."

"That's disgusting. A statue is not a repository for bird shit. It's art."

Nothing would be worse than having ugly statues of himself scattered around the country. Harry asked, "So are you any good?"

Dante pretended not to hear the question and looked out the window as the city of Cleveland rolled past. He didn't know how to answer that question. Three years ago he would have answered in the affirmative. Sitting in the Roach Coach and watching run down buildings pass by, he didn't know.

Harry repeated his question in a louder voice. Dante answered, "William paid a lot of money for it. Figure it out for yourself."

Although Dante didn't realize it at the time, Happy Harry figured it out before Dante had even finished speaking. The old man didn't even glance over at his passenger. There was time enough to deal with him later. For now, he was traveling and it was time to appreciate the movement. He started singing the song about being a born under a wandering star from the movie, Paint Your Wagon. It was his favorite song to sing while driving across the country.

Dante looked out the window, but didn't see the landscape pass by. His thoughts were turned inward. Harry's questions had reawakened all of his self-doubts. He was on the verge of quitting the commission when he fell asleep. Harry didn't wake him until they had reached a restaurant for lunch.

It was a typical roadside family dining place that was part of a national chain. Dante sat across from Harry and studied the menu. He had just decided that he'd get the Chef Salad when Harry asked, "What are you getting?"

"Chef Salad."

Harry frowned and said, "You might want to get something with a little more fat in it. You're going to need it since the nights are still cold. Once the temperature starts dropping below forty, you need every calorie you can burn."

"Why don't we sleep in a regular hotel?"

"Hungry Man, you are going to become one with the environment. Air conditioning and heating is part of a false world that isolates you from the change of seasons. You are going to find out what it means to be alive in the physical world," Harry said. He also thought to himself that he was about to rediscover what it meant to live in the world of men and women.

"There's a reason air conditioning and heating was invented," Dante countered feeling a little intimidated by the fact that Harry was a Druid. Despite that, he felt a need to argue and Harry was the only one available to satisfy that need.

"That's true. It doesn't change the fact that people lost something as a result of it," Harry agreed amiably.

Wanting to make a point, Dante said, "I'm still going to get a Chef's Salad."

"I didn't say you couldn't."

A tense half hour passed during which the order was taken and the food delivered. Harry enjoyed his meal, waxing poetic about the fine qualities of Chicken Fried Steak. Dante ate his salad quietly. About the time Dante was halfway through his salad, Harry said, "Hungry Man, my people named you correctly. You are a starving artist. The problem is that what you are hungry for doesn't fill the stomach. That's not a good thing in an artist."

Dante looked up from his salad and stared at Harry. The old man looked him directly in the eye with an unwavering gaze. He wondered what it was that the Druid saw in him. A shiver went through Dante and he bent down to finish his lunch. His appetite was gone.

Harry and Dante stayed for three days in Buffalo. Dante had become accustomed to the flow of life in a Homeless Hotel. Although the bed had never become comfortable, he had become used to sleeping on the hard surface. The meals were nutritious, but not always tasty. The nights were cold and he found that he was loosing weight since his body was trying to accommodate the changes in weather.

Dante hadn't tried to fit in with the men and women in the Homeless Hotel. Most of the time was spent sitting on a railroad tie thinking about his commission, but he didn't do anything about it. The only time he wasn't on the railroad tie was when he was doing some odd job around the Homeless Hotel to earn his food for the day. Not once did he pick up his sketch book to draw Harry. He didn't even consider attempting to draw Harry.

Even worse than not doing anything, Dante had ignored everyone around him. In the entire three days, he hadn't said one word more than was necessary to get food. He ignored the conversations that took place around him even when those conversations concerned him. When someone said something really outrageous, all he did was look in their direction for a moment and then look away.

On the morning of the fourth day, Harry found Dante standing by the coffee urn drinking a cup of coffee. Harry said, "We leave in half an hour. You'll need to take a shower before we go. You stink and I don't want to smell you all the way to New York City."

Dante stared at the Druid angered by his blunt talk. Wanting to get back at the Druid, he said, "You're a mean bastard. If you're so good, aren't you supposed to be nice?"

"What's being nice got to do with being good?" Harry asked with a twinkle in his eye.

"You know what I mean; helping people by giving them a kind word and all of that."

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. The only way to help people is to tell them the truth. The truth is a harsh mistress," Harry said with a sad shake of his head. He felt that anyone who didn't believe that truth was harsh should spend a day with Ed Biggers.

Being told that he stank was bad, but the comment about him saying something stupid offended him. His offense wasn't great enough to argue, though. He rose and went over to the shower. The blast of cold water barely registered. It was not sufficient to break through his depressed mental state.

They hadn't even left Buffalo before Harry pulled in front of a house in a poor part of town. Dante watched Harry get out and go into the house wondering why they were stopping there. Five minutes later, Harry came out and opened the door on Dante's side. Grinning, Harry said, "There's a bunch of toxins in your body. It's time to get rid of them."

"Leave me alone," Dante said.

"I'm not going to join your private pity party, asshole. You need to get your pipes cleaned. Now get out of this crate and get inside that house. Ask for Maggie."

Moving like a condemned man, Dante made his way to the front door. He knocked. After a few seconds an attractive woman opened the door and invited him into the house. Once there, he said, "Harry said that I was to ask for Maggie."

The request caused her to raise both eyebrows in surprise. Recovering, she said, "I'll get Maggie for you."

Dante watched dully as the woman disappeared down a hallway. A minute later she led a woman in her early twenties into the room. The woman was a brunette with an attractive face. She was wearing a short thin robe that ended well above her knees. The legs shown off were very shapely. Smiling at him, she said, "Come with me."

Realizing that Harry had set him up with a prostitute, Dante followed behind her watching her movements. She was pretty enough and his body wanted it, but his spirit was stunted. She reached a room and opened the door. Gesturing inside, she said, "Get undressed and lie down on the massage table. I'll be back in a minute."

Dante stumbled into the room and turned in time to see the door close behind him. The room was dimly lit and it took a minute for his eyes to adjust to the lower light level. A standard massage table occupied the center of the room. There was a small dresser against one wall with a variety of creams, powders, and oils randomly placed around it. A drawer was partially opened and he could see folded towels within it.

Next to the table was a chair. He started undressing and put his clothes on the chair. Even as he disrobed, he felt embarrassed by the disregard he had been showing them over the past few days. Once he was naked, he climbed on the table and covered himself with the neatly folded towel that had been on the center of the table.

There was a hole at the head of the table and he adjusted his position so that his face was supported through the hole. He heard the door open behind him and the sounds of Maggie slipping into the room. The door closed with a slam that made him jump. She said, "Sorry about that. The door sticks and I have to slam it to get it to close."

Dante didn't answer, but settled himself back onto the table. His movement was suddenly arrested when she pulled the towel off him. He rose and turned to look at her. She had dropped the robe and was standing next to the table naked except for a pair of French cut panties. She smiled and said, "Lie down. You'll have plenty of opportunity to look all you want when I'm done massaging your back."

Swallowing, Dante returned to his position. After a short time, she poured some oil on his back and started to massage the muscles. After a minute she said, "You're so tense. Do you want to tell me about it?"

"No," Dante answered, "you see, my girlfriend and my best friend left me three years ago. Since then, I haven't been with a woman."

"Sounds like you were really hurt by their leaving," Maggie said while kneading a tight muscle in his neck.

For the next hour, all of the miseries and doubts that had been bottled up inside Dante spilled forth. He was brutally honest about the events leading up to their leaving and his behavior since that time. All of his fears and concerns boiled forth without control. At some point, he realized that he was on his back with his head resting in her lap. Her arms were holding him as she stared down at him with concern filled eyes.

At the same time that he ran out of things to say there was a knock on the door. Maggie looked down at him and said, "Your time is up."

"Sorry to dump all that on you," Dante said feeling embarrassed by his behavior.

She kissed his forehead and said, "Don't be sorry. I'm glad that I was able to help."

Dante sat up and she climbed off the table. While putting her robe on, she said, "Get dressed. Harry's waiting outside."

Knowing that he owed her a debt that was far more than what money could pay, Dante asked, "What do I owe you?"

Grinning, she said, "Don't worry about it. Harry's taking care of it."

After she slipped out of the room, Dante climbed off the table and dressed. He slipped out of the room and returned to the living room. The attractive woman asked, "Did you enjoy your session?"

Surprised at how well he felt, Dante answered, "Very much. It was very therapeutic."

"I hope you'll return some time," she said with a smile. When Dante reached into his pocket and pulled out a wallet, she said, "Don't ruin it. Harry's waiting outside."

Disappointed at not being able to do something to thank Maggie, he said, "Let her know how much I appreciated what she did."

The woman smiled and said, "She knows."

Confused by the reply, Dante left the house. Stepping outdoors he was struck by the colors. The sky was a bright blue that was almost painful to the eyes. Bright white fluffy clouds broke up the expanse of blue. He walked to the Roach Coach with a spring to his step that had been absent for years.

Harry watched Dante approach with a smile. When the man climbed into the wagon, Harry said, "Get in the back. We have a passenger."

Not seeing anyone else in the Roach Coach, Dante moved into the back wondering who the mystery passenger was. There wasn't any place to sit, so he sat on the floor. He was shocked when Maggie climbed into the passenger seat and kissed Harry on the cheek. In a happy tone of voice, she said, "Thanks Harry. I'm ready to move on now."

"Maggie," Dante said. The word had slipped past his control.

"Hello Hungry Man. How are you feeling?"

"Shocked. What are you doing here?" Dante asked.

"Harry's taking me to the Fallen Angels. You were my last and I'll remember you forever. It was special. Thank you," she answered.

When the Roach Coach lurched forward, Harry announced, "Hold on, folks. When this wagon is moving, it has more swinging going on than a playground during recess."

Dante chuckled at the comment. He grinned when Maggie cried out, "We're going to fall over."

After ten minutes of riding in the front, Maggie decided that she had enough and made her way to the back of the wagon. Sitting on the floor next to Dante, she said, "This crate should be hauled off to a junk yard."

Dante said, "I've suggested that more than once. He seems to like the way it moves."

"That's Harry for you. He likes to go places that most of us would rather leave behind," she said.

"So what's with this Fallen Angels thing?"

Surprised that Dante didn't know about it, she said, "It is an organization that helps whores get out of the business."

"So why are you going there?"

Maggie stared at him for a minute and then burst out laughing. Lightly, she said, "If you didn't notice, that was a whore house that you just left."

"But you're too nice to be a whore," Dante protested forgetting that she had had been nearly naked when she had given him the massage. He hadn't had a doubt that she was a prostitute when she had led him to the room.

"You're so sweet," Maggie said.

For the rest of the trip, she told Dante about her life. It was an all too common tale of a step-father who was a sexual predator and a young girl who left only to find that she had walked into a world filled with sexual predators.

As she told her story, Dante held her in his arms and allowed her to release the toxins that an aborted childhood had instilled in her. His throat was tight when she told about how horrible and cheap she felt when she turned her first trick to make enough to sleep warm at night on a full stomach. Listening, he came to appreciate her strength and her will to survive. Despite the things that she had suffered, he saw that she still retained a good soul. Despite three years of selling her body, she wanted to love and be loved as a woman and not as a whore.

She described how Harry had gotten her off of the street where it was dangerous and into the house where she was better protected. Dante frowned when he learned that Happy Harry had helped the owner set up the house. He asked, "Why would Harry do that?"

"Some of us aren't ready to leave the business right away. The money is too attractive, we're too screwed up to work, or we don't think we're good enough to rejoin society. Nancy, who runs that house, takes us to a therapist, helps us get our GED, and works with us in learning how to manage our lives. When we're ready to leave, Harry comes by and takes us to the Fallen Angels."

"It sounds to me like this Nancy is using you," Dante said finding the idea repugnant. He didn't like the idea that Harry was involved in something so illegal.

Looking at Dante, she said, "Of course she is. She might call herself a madam, but she's nothing more than a pimp. She makes a lot of money off of the girls in the house. However, she does give back more than any other pimp that I've ever dealt with."

"So what are you going to do when you get to the Fallen Angles?"

Maggie shrugged her shoulders and answered, "I'm thinking of going to college and major in social work. Maybe I can help a few kids before they have the life I've lived."

"Nice."

Dante was sad when they dropped Maggie off at a small building that had a sign in the window that simply said, 'Fallen Angels." Just before she had gotten out of the Roach Coach, Harry had given her a little statue of an angel. Dante had given her a hug and told her that she'd be in his thoughts. He moved into the passenger seat and watched the building as it receded into the distance.

Grinning, Harry could see that an emotional bond had developed between the two. Leering obscenely, he said, "Did you enjoy getting your pipes cleaned by Maggie?"

Offended by the coarse talk, Dante said, "We didn't have sex!"

"I never thought you did for a minute," Harry said with a laugh. He turned a corner which started the Roach Coach to swaying. Winking at Dante, he said, "You did get a lot of that emotional plumbing of yours straightened out. I bet that toilet you call a brain can flush now without flooding the bathroom."

Suspicious, Dante stared at Harry wondering if he was telling the truth. He asked, "You didn't think we did anything?"

"As bound up as you were in your own world of misery, I'd have been surprised if you'd been able to get a hard-on. Of course, you're still a long way from being an artist again."



-------

Chapter 4


The pencil flew over the paper driven by a strong confident hand. The face that emerged was alive and vibrant, even though the subject was a homeless man staring at the ground in front of him. Another of the homeless men was standing behind Dante watching him work. Awed, he said, "You're good."

Dante shrugged his shoulders and filled in details around the eyes. So many deep lines gave the eyes a depth that was nearly impossible to capture. The pencil moved with short quick strokes in a staccato beat. A deeper character emerged from the broad expanse of the paper.

Another man commented, "Damn, that picture almost makes The Beamer look handsome."

Dante smiled at the comment. The Beamer, called that because he liked Jim Beam Whiskey, was about as far from handsome as any man could be. Beamer looked up and said, "Don't be insulting the word handsome. There are some folks who actually deserve to be called handsome. If you don't believe me, look at Handsome Sam over there."

The comment created a loud round of laughter from the men sitting around the public area of the Homeless Hotel. If there was anyone who was uglier than the Beamer, it was Handsome Sam. Sounding offended, Handsome Sam said, "Hey, I resemble that remark."

Adding a few finishing touches to the sketch, Dante said, "Actually, Beamer has a great face to draw. Lots of character and experience is etched upon it. I'll admit that I wouldn't want to kiss that mug, but of course there isn't anyone around here that I would want to kiss. Well, except for Bad Betty."

Handsome Sam said, "Everyone wants to kiss Bad Betty."

Grinning across the fire pit, Betty said, "There ain't one face here I'd kiss and that includes Hungry Man, too."

Dante flipped the page over and adjusted the drawing pad back on his lap. He said, "I saw you kissing Harry when we pulled up."

Snorting, Betty said, "Harry ain't here. I'm stuck with you ugly mugs."

Turning to Betty, Dante started outlining the shape of her face on the page with a light stroke. The initial lines would disappear when he laid the heavier lines over them. Beamer asked, "Who is he drawing now, Bushman?"

Bushman looked down at the page and grinned. Wiggling his bushy eyebrows at Betty, he said, "He's drawing Betty."

Merv the Perv asked, "Can you draw her without her clothes?"

Dante asked, "How about I draw you without your clothes?"

"I saw him playing with himself while staring lustfully at the ducks swimming in the park just the other day," Betty said. She held up her fist with her little finger extended and said, "I swear his cock isn't any bigger than my little finger."

Handsome Sam asked, "Ducks?"

"Hey, the egg has to come out from somewhere," Merv the Perv replied.

"You are one sick fuck," Bushman said. He looked over at Betty shaking her head and then back down at the sketch pad. He couldn't believe the image Dante was creating.

Softening the strokes of his pencil, Dante emphasized the gentle nature of Betty that wasn't easily seen on the face of the woman. There was a twinkle to the eyes that emerged infrequently, but was what drew men to her. His pencil captured the twinkle with ease. Bushman drew in a sharp breath.

Betty asked, "When are you going draw Bushman?"

Smiling, Dante said, "I'm sure there's a face under all that hair, but I'll be damned if I can see it."

Stroking the beard that went all of the way down to the top of his pot belly, Bushman said, "You're just jealous of this beard of mine."

Scratching his chin with the end of his pencil, Dante had to admit that after a month of not shaving that his beard barely qualified as a one compared to that worn by the Bushman. He went back to work and commented, "You've got a magnificent beard. It just hides your face."

"So you can't draw me?"

"Sure I can. I did it last night while you were telling us about jumping into the creek and sinking to your knees in the mud," Dante answered. He spent some time working on Betty's hair. He wanted to capture that half tamed texture created by the hair that had escaped from the hair clip.

The Beamer said, "I still don't see why they had to pull you out with a tow truck."

"They didn't have to use a tow truck, that was the only thing that was handy," the Bushman said.

Happy Harry walked into the camp and looked around at the laughing faces. He wandered behind Dante and looked at the picture. Shaking his head, he said, "That doesn't look like me. It looks more like Bushman."

"It is Bad Betty," Dante said while chuckling.

Looking hurt, Bad Betty said, "Your picture of me makes me look like Bushman?"

Winking at her, Harry said, "Sure does."

"Damn, I'm gonna have to shave my underarms again."

Merv the Perv said, "Don't do that. Hairy underarms turn me on."

"Road kill turns you on," Bad Betty said rolling her eyes.

"You're right. All except for skunk, of course. Skunk turns me into a rutting monster," the resident pervert said. He scratched his stomach and said, "On that note, I'm off to the john to relieve some of the fluids that such sexy thoughts have riled up."

Dante paused in his drawing and watched Merv the Perv walk off. The baby face told the story that his words tried to hide. He wondered how he would act if he'd lost his testicles to testicular cancer at the age of sixteen. Harry said, "He handles it the only way he knows how."

"I know. I was just wondering how I'd handle it," Dante said. He turned back to the pad and rubbed a thumb over a part of the paper. It softened the hair.

"If I didn't know about his condition, I'd be scared to death of him. The things that come out of his mouth are downright disturbing," Bad Betty said. She shivered at the thought of what kind of monster would say those things.

"He's never hurt another person," Happy Harry said.

Bushman looked down at the sketchpad and said, "You've got to show that one to Bad Betty."

Dante held up the sketch pad for everyone to see. Holding a hand over her mouth, Betty asked, "Is that how you see me?"

"Yes."

Handsome Sam looked at the picture and then over at Bad Betty. He commented, "You better watch out, Harry. I think Bad Betty is going to fall in love with Hungry Man."

"That's a mighty fine picture," said the Beamer.

Recovering from the shock of the picture, Betty said, "You're right Harry. He did make me look like Bushman."

Dante laughed and flipped the page over to begin another drawing. Bushman said, "It's getting late. If you're going to eat tonight, you'd better earn your keep."

Closing the sketch pad, Dante asked, "What do you want me to do?"

"How about cleaning the sleep platforms that opened up today? Bad Betty, you help him. While they're doing that, Beamer can wash out the bunks. I'll let Handsome Sam help me cook today," Bushman answered.

After stowing the sketch pad in the Roach Coach, Dante said, "Betty, why don't you get the pail and the bleach. I'll carry the platforms over to the hose."

She nodded and went to get the bucket, brushes, and bleach. He went to the sewer pipe sections that had been freed up with the departure of three of the homeless men that morning. Looking in the pipes, he frowned. This was one of the dirtiest and nastiest jobs at the Homeless Hotel. He pulled out the wooden platform on which the former occupant had slept and dragged it over by the showers. A pungent combination of odors rose off the wooden platform. He dropped it and went back for another after glancing over at Bad Betty as she filled the bucket with water.

Two more trips and he was ready to help Betty scrub down the platforms. She handed him a brush and said, "Let's get to it."

He dunked the brush into the bleach solution and then started scrubbing with great energy. The smell of bleach permeated the air and brought tears to his eyes. Stains disappeared under the energetic scrubbing. Once one side was done, he grabbed the hose and sprayed if off. He flipped the platform over and repeated the process on it. He said, "I hate this job."

"Everyone has to do it sometime," Bad Betty said. She looked up from the piece she was working on and studied the artist. In a softer voice, she asked, "Do you really see me like that?"

"Sure."

Using her shoulder to wipe her cheekbone, she was thankful that the bleach hid her tears. She said, "You made me look all soft and gentle."

"I draw what I see, but I don't draw everything that I see," Dante said.

"What does that mean?"

"I didn't draw the sadness that is most visible on The Beamer's face," Dante said.

"Oh," she said and wondered what he hadn't drawn about her. She started scrubbing with a vengeance to push the question out of her mind.

Dante finished the first platform before Bad Betty finished hers. He went to work on the third one and had nearly finished half of it before Betty was done. She rinsed off his side and suggested, "Why don't you take the first two back while I finish the backside of this one?"

"Sure thing, Betty," Dante answered. He picked up the one he had finished and carried it off. There was still the slight smell of bleach, but it was no longer over-powering. Beamer was still washing the third section of sewer pipes and said, "I'll be done in a minute."

While wrestling the wooden platform into one of the sections of pipe, Dante said, "I never thought I'd spend an afternoon doing this."

Beamer said, "I grew up thinking that I'd be a brain surgeon or something like that. I never thought that a bottle of booze would be more important to me than saving lives. I never thought I'd spend my life wandering the streets, sleeping in alleys, or eating out of trash cans."

Dante didn't answer. There wasn't anything for him to say that Beamer hadn't already thought. Having gotten the platform in place, he said, "I'll be right back with another one."

"Okay."

When Dante returned with the second platform, Beamer was gone. He wrestled the platform into the section of pipe without much difficulty. A month on the road had given him a certain facility in dealing with the sections of sewer pipe. At least now he didn't hit his head each time he entered and exited one of them.

Happy Harry was standing by the third section of sewer pipe. He helped Dante slide the platform in place. Once they were finished, Harry said, "We're heading out tomorrow morning."

This was the second time that he had been in a New York Homeless Hotel. The first time they had dropped off Maggie and stayed a couple of days. They had then turned north and visited sites in New York, Maine, Massachusetts, and Connecticut. He knew that Harry was going to turn south and cover New Jersey, Maryland, Washington D.C, and Virginia over the next couple of weeks.

Dante thought about Maggie and how much he would like to see her. His time in the homeless hotels and seeing the other women on the street had convinced him that Maggie was a special person. He was hoping that he'd have a chance to see her while they were in New York, but the chance had never come. He said, "I'd like to stay here a couple of extra days."

"This wouldn't happen to have anything to do with a certain Maggie James, would it?"

Dante hadn't known her last name and he was sure that Harry knew that. Attempting to look a little disinterested, he said, "Maybe. I thought I might see how she's doing."

"I wish you luck," Harry said with a grin. He rubbed his chin as if giving the matter a lot of thought. The wry expression on his face suggested that it was all an act. Finally, he said, "I guess I'll see you in the South Side Homeless Hotel in Washington D.C. in about two weeks."

"I guess," Dante answered. He had more than enough money in his wallet to fly to Washington D.C. and Harry knew it.

"In that case, I'll leave now and head across the river to New Jersey," Harry said.

"I need my suitcase," Dante said.

"I already put your suitcase in the storage shed," Harry said while walking away.

Shaking his head, Dante stared at the retreating back of the green robed Druid wondering how he knew that kind of stuff. He was still standing there when the Roach Coach pulled out of the Homeless Hotel. Pulling himself together, he wandered up to the public area. He hadn't even sat down when Handsome Sam asked, "So who is this mystery lady you're looking for?"

Laughing nervously about the question, Dante asked, "Don't you have anything better to do than gossip about me?"

"Let me check my social calendar," Handsome Sam said after theatrically opening an invisible book and pretending to check out the contents. He said, "Nope, nothing to do until dinner."

Putting her hands over her heart, Bad Betty threw her head back and said, "He's dumping me already."

Bushman said, "You've already rejected him once. Give another girl a chance to reject him."

Dante listened as his future sex life was discussed with lots of insults, impossibilities, and jokes thrown in. He knew that they hid their vulnerabilities behind such comments and didn't mind. From talking about his merits as a lover, they turned to appropriate places to bed her. After twenty minutes of listening to them argue over whether an alley way or under an overpass was the better location, Dante gave up and went for some coffee.

He was pouring a cup of coffee when Bushman stepped over to him. In a quiet voice that wouldn't carry, he said, "You might want to stay in a hotel tonight. You need to get a good night's sleep, a hot shower, shave, and get hair cut."

"That's a good idea," Dante said. He'd feel a lot more presentable if he were to do that.

"I'll call you a cab," Bushman said before stepping away.

The middle-aged woman's face had adopted a very hard expression upon seeing Dante enter the room alone. He was too clean and well dressed to be in the business. In a voice that was cold enough to freeze water, she asked, "What can I do for you?"

"I'm looking for Maggie James," Dante answered looking at all of the statues of angels on the shelves behind the woman. He recognized the angel Harry had given Maggie before she had entered the building.

The woman pretended to look through some records and said, "I can't say if she was ever here."

Dante pointed to the statue and said, "Happy Harry gave her that statue when we dropped her off here a month ago."

The expression on the woman's face underwent a dramatic change. Smiling, she asked, "You know Happy Harry?"

"I've been traveling with him for the past month," Dante answered surprised at the sudden change of expression on her face.

"You wouldn't be an artist, would you?"

"Yes. I'm working on a statue of Happy Harry."

"Well, Hungry Man. I'm not supposed to give out that kind of information, but it seems to me that I heard she was going to school at New York University."

The use of his street name surprised him. He asked, "How do you know who I am?"

"People talk. Stories get around," she answered. She wasn't going to say that he was all that Maggie could talk about when she had first arrived. She had seen love before and had recognized it in Maggie.

Dante shook his head and said, "That homeless rumor mill is really something. I guess if you can find out that the Duke of Dallas had a baby girl named Amelia up in Cleveland, then word getting around about an artist traveling with Harry is nothing."

The woman smiled at the news he had delivered and at his misunderstanding of what she had said. She said, "So the Duchess finally had a kid. I'm glad to hear that. I'm not surprised that she named it after the Chicago Angel. Miss Amy really helped her out of a mess.

"You know, I went to her wedding. I cried like a baby when Miss Amy was able to walk up to the podium without the braces. She was so beautiful that day."

Everywhere he went, Dante heard about the Chicago Angel. Everywhere he went, someone was sure to mention that they had attended her wedding. The more he heard about her, the more he wanted to meet her. He said, "I've heard that it was quite an event."

Breaking out of her memories, she said, "You might want to wander down to New York University. It's just a couple of blocks from here."

Surprised by the sudden change of topic, Dante said, "Thank you."

"I never said anything," she answered with a smile and a wink.

Washington Square was a large open area surrounded by several city blocks containing buildings associated with the New York University. Dante stood in the center of the square and looked around trying to figure out how he was to find Maggie James. Stopping a student, he asked, "How can I find out where a student lives on campus?"

"I've got no idea," the student said and then went on their way.

Dante went over to one of the benches and sat down. Ten minutes later, a homeless man shuffled up and asked, "What's the matter Hungry Man?"

"Hello, Boozer. I'm looking for someone and don't know how to find her."

"You shaved."

"Yes I did. I wanted to look presentable."

"Is she a student here or something?"

"Yes."

Booze scratched his four-day old beard for a minute and then said, "Wait here, Hungry Man. I'll be back with someone who can help you."

"Thanks, Boozer."

Twenty minutes later a NYU Policeman stopped in front of Dante. Looking down at him, he asked, "Are you Hungry Man?"

"Yes, I am."

"Boozer said that you're a special friend of Happy Harry. He said that you're looking for someone," the man said. He examined the artist surprised to find that someone so well dressed was homeless. He wondered what the story was behind the guy.

Shocked at the power of Happy Harry's name to open doors, Dante looked at the badge. He said, "That's right, Officer Harrigan. I've been commissioned to do a statue of Happy Harry and have been traveling with him for a month."

"You can call me Bill. I can't put you in touch with her, but I can put her in touch with you."

Sitting up, Dante said, "That would be great, Bill."

"What's her name?"

"Maggie James."

The officer stepped away and talked over his radio for a minute. Dante couldn't hear what he said, but the body language looked promising. After what seemed like an eternity, Bill returned and said, "An officer has been dispatched to where she's supposed to be. He'll give her word that you're sitting here. If she doesn't come by in two hours, I'd leave if I were you. If you're still here, I'll have to chase you off."

"Thanks, Bill," Dante answered. For the first time, he wondered if she would want to see him.

"If we can't find her, we'll let you know," Bill said as he walked off.

Twenty minutes passed and Dante was getting worried that she wouldn't show up. Did she actually like him? He was afraid that the connection he felt with her was only in his mind. Why would she want to see him anyway? He fidgeted in his seat and looked around. He spotted her heading in his direction. She was wearing blue jeans and a sweat shirt with NYU written across it. Her hair was pulled back in a pony tail. She looked like a million dollars.

He stood to greet her. She spotted him and waved. Feeling like a little boy being told that he had a new bicycle, he wanted to jump up and down. Instead, he waved back to her and headed in her direction. When he was close enough for her to hear him, he said, "Hello, Maggie."

"Hello, Hungry Man," she said unable to believe that he had actually taken the effort to find her.

Waving to the environment, he said, "So you made it to college."

"Yes, I did," she said.

"I know the life of a student is busy, but do you have time for a coffee?"

"Sure. Let's go over to the student center and have a cup."

Looking over her, he said, "Wow. Student life must really agree with you. You look great."

She lit up at the compliment and said, "You're looking good. Life on the road with Harry must be interesting."

Although Dante wasn't sure how it happened, somewhere between Washington Square and the Student Center he found that he was holding hands with her as they walked. When they stepped inside the Student Center, Bill walked over and said, "I see that she found you."

"Yes. Thank you so much for your help," Dante said.

Recalling that the man had said that he was doing a statue of Happy Harry, Bill said, "Maybe one day you'll do a statue for the school."

Dante pointed to a statue of a student walking while reading an open book in his hands. "You already have one of mine."

"Wow, that's nice," Maggie said.

"That's nothing compared to what I'm going to do in the future. After I'm done with my commission, I'm going to cast a statue of the most beautiful woman in the world. That is, if I have your permission."

Confused, Maggie asked, "What do you need my permission for?"

"How else will I get you to model for it?"



-------

Chapter 5


Harry stepped back and said, "You have to admit, that's one good looking man."

William chuckled and asked, "Is that what it is?"

"Of course," Happy Harry said. There was a hint of offense in his voice.

Grinning, William asked, "The fact that it is the spitting image of you doesn't have anything to do with your impression of it?"

"Not at all," Harry said, "That's a good looking man, plain and simple."

Amused by the exchange, Dante asked, "So I can cast it?"

"Outside of the fact that I'm rather disappointed that Half Feather wants to immortalize me as a collector of pigeon droppings, I don't have any objections," Happy Harry said. He reached over and rubbed William on the head.

"How about the bust?"

"I look like a love sick puppy in that," Harry said pointing to one of the two busts of him.

Nodding his head, Dante said, "I captured the expression on your face when you saw Lady Lucy down in Atlanta."

"He does look like a love sick puppy. Of course, he always looks like a love sick puppy when Lady Lucy is around," William said with a wink at Dante. Harry had the grace to blush.

Pointing to the other bust, Harry said, "I like that one better. It gives me a fatherly appearance."

"Funny you should say that about that one. I captured the expression on your face when William and Lucy stopped by the Homeless Hotel in Savannah."

Lucy wrapped her arms around her husband and said, "That's just how he looks at you, William."

Harry mumbled, "One of the problems with artists is that they see too much."

Having to speak loudly to be overheard over William's laughter, Dante asked, "So what about the busts?"

"You can cast the second one," Harry said looking embarrassed.

"Actually, I'd like to cast both of them. The second one is for William," Dante said moving over to a third bust that was covered with a damp cloth.

"Why cast the first one if William isn't paying for it?" Harry asked.

"When I showed the sketch for it to Lady Lucy, she told me that she liked it. She mentioned something about you and her meeting next to a little waterfall in Virginia," Dante said. He removed the cover off the third bust and said, "I thought your bust and this one belonged beside that waterfall."

Happy Harry stared at the bust. It was the most amazing thing he had ever seen. The emotions in his voice made it difficult to understand his words. "That's my beautiful Lady Lucy. You really captured her spirit."

"I'm going to mount the two of them on a granite block so that you are looking into each other's eyes," Dante said. Harry and Lady Lucy had performed the dance of love for over thirty years. Their love for each other was just as fresh as the first day they had met. Their characters were such that they couldn't be together in life, but Dante hoped that with this gesture they would be together in spirit.

Maggie, tears in her eyes, went over to Dante and hugged him. She had seen the work, but hadn't heard his plans for it. She said, "That's so sweet."

"You'll wait until I'm gone?" Harry asked.

Shrugging his shoulders, Dante said, "I could wait. I could also put it up so that you could meet her in front of the statue when the weather is warm enough for a swim under the waterfall."

Harry grinned and said, "I like the idea of that."

"Dante's got the soul of a poet," Maggie said thinking it was the most romantic thing she'd ever heard. She wanted to wrap herself around Dante and never let go. Despite years as a prostitute, Dante was her first boyfriend. She smiled to herself at the thought of him being her boyfriend.

Lucy went over to Maggie and whispered in her ear, "He's a keeper. How about we go off for a little girl talk?"

"Sounds good to me," Maggie answered. Maggie led Lucy out of the studio, leaving the men behind. Maggie was familiar enough with the layout of the studio to know the perfect spot for the two of them to talk. She had been there her entire spring break and would be heading back to New York City the next day.

Watching them leave, Harry said, "You boys are in trouble now. The women are conspiring against you."

Winking at Harry, William said, "I don't have anything to worry about. My fate is already sealed. It's Dante who should be worried. I wouldn't be surprised if my wife isn't giving Maggie step by step instructions on how to get a man to propose to her."

"And what would be wrong with that?" Dante asked. The past week with Maggie visiting him at his studio had been one of the finest weeks of his life. He was totally smitten by her and he knew it.

"She's had a hard life," Harry commented watching Dante closely.

"It never touched her soul," Dante said. Over the past few months of traveling with Harry, he had gained the ability to see past the surface and into the depths of people. Looking over at the statue of Harry, he knew that for a fact. It was the best work he had ever done.

"And?"

Dante remembered how nervous Maggie had been the first time they kissed. She had trembled when his lips touched hers. She had relaxed into the kiss with all of the passion of a school girl. There had remained in her the ability to love and he had found it. He smiled and said, "She's got a good soul."

The summer found Maggie living with Dante in his studio. During the day, she worked in the local office of the Fallen Angels while Dante cast the statues to complete William's commission. They both found their days rewarding, but that was nothing compared to the evenings together.

Completely naked, Maggie reclined on the sofa. Her eyes were closed and her mouth was slightly open as if ready to receive a kiss. Everything about her pose screamed out for the right man to come and make passionate love to her. Seated across from her, Dante's hands drove a pencil close to its breaking point capturing the sight. He said, "You're so beautiful."

"You're the only one who thinks that," Maggie replied. The intensity of his gaze upon her body thrilled her. His eyes missed nothing. She knew that he saw every flaw in her body, but there was no trace of them in his work. She asked, "Are you going to show this to anyone?"

"You have asked the question that torments the soul of this artist and lover," Dante answered pausing from his drawing.

"Torments?"

"Yes. As your lover I want you all to myself. No one but me should be able to gaze upon your body. As an artist, I want the world to see it. Such beauty should not be hidden. It has to be shared. The conflict is tearing me apart," Dante said. He looked down at the sketchpad.

"I don't mind if others see it," Maggie said. She knew that plenty of men had already seen her naked and under circumstances that were very seedy. After all, she had been a prostitute.

"I do. I love you. I have since the day I met you. I want to protect you from every eye that might look upon you with lecherous intent," Dante said.

Maggie's breath was taken away. It was the first time that Dante had told her that he loved her. Rather than react, she said, "There's a small matter of my past."

Rising from his chair, Dante approached her while saying, "Your past is in the past. I don't care about what you've done in the past. I care about the now. I care about the future. I want you to have the best present and future possible."

"That's nice," Maggie said. She bit her lower lip to keep from crying.

He lowered his body to cover hers and said, "I love you."

Maggie was going to answer that she loved him too, except she was too busy returning the passionate kiss he was giving her. She opened herself to him and let him know that she loved him in the best way that a woman could. In doing so, the toxins that had been in her body were released. She had become whole for perhaps the first time in her life.

Maggie stepped out of her class and was surprised to find Dante waiting for her. Living with him for three months over the summer had been more wonderful than she thought possible. Since the new school year had started, she had missed him more than she could put into words. Her dorm room, despite the fact that she shared it with a bright perky roommate, seemed so empty. She tried to fill her time with study, but spending twice as much time as necessary didn't fill the lonely hours.

Dante said, "Surprise. I missed you so much that I just had to come out and say hello."

Grinning, Maggie said, "You came all this way just to say hello. Don't tell me now that you've accomplished your mission that you're going to go back to your studio."

Putting an arm around her, he steered her out of the building. He headed in a direction that was not quite headed towards the student union building. He said, "I thought we could have a cup of coffee before I drove back."

"It's Friday and I don't have classes until Monday morning."

"You don't say," Dante said with a grin that suggested he had plans of a special kind.

"I do say," she countered with a grin that matched his. She bumped into him with her hip as if to let him know that the lower part of her body was interested in making contact with the lower part of his body.

Passing by one of the benches in Washington Square, Dante maneuvered her so that she found herself sitting on the bench. Across from her was a tent that ruined the view, but her eyes were on him. Kneeling, Dante took her hand and slipped a diamond ring on it. Looking into her eyes, he asked, "Will you marry me?"

Open mouthed, she stared at him speechless. This was absolutely the last thing she had expected to happen. It seemed like her brain wouldn't work and she couldn't say a word. There was a tap on her shoulder. A male voice from behind her said, "Say yes."

"Yes," she repeated numbly. It fully registered that Dante had proposed. She shouted, "Yes!"

She grabbed Dante and kissed him. She hugged him with such energy that she nearly squeezed the life out of him. It took another minute before it dawned on her that Happy Harry was standing behind her. She swiveled her head and shouted, "Happy Harry!"

"Guilty as charged." Harry said with a wink. He waved his shepherd's staff and pointed across the walk. He said, "Look at that."

Her head spun in time to watch the tent fall to the ground and reveal a statue of a woman seated on a park bench with a young man on bended knee proposing to her. There was a small angel seated on the bench beside the young woman. Maggie stared at the statue for a full minute before she realized that the woman was her. She grabbed Dante and hugged him again.

Happy Harry laughed at the expression on Dante's face. The young man was still on one knee and was being held against the seat of the chair. Maggie was nearly killing him in her excitement. Harry winked at the students who had witnessed the entire proposal. One of the young men was looking from the couple to the statue and back again. Harry said, "Love hurts."

"It looks like it could break your back," the young man commented pointing at Dante.

The girl with him had tears in her eyes. She slugged his shoulder and said, "Look at me, I'm crying. That was so romantic and you go and ruin it all by saying something like that."

Dante finally got seated on the bench next to Maggie. Tears were in her eyes as she said, "Look at me, I'm crying. That was so romantic."

"I love you, Maggie James."

"I love you. I can't get over the fact that you put a statue of your proposal there for me. That's incredible."

"I wanted it to be here so that when you are rushing from one class to another that you would be reminded that you are my fiancée," Dante said.

She looked across at the statue and saw that a couple of men were raising the tent. The idea that they would hide the statue hurt. She asked, "What are they doing?"

"Oh, the official unveiling isn't until tomorrow," Dante said. Seeing the expression on her face, he said, "I asked them to test the release mechanism today. I figured the event it celebrates should occur before the statue is shown."

Leaning over the bench, Harry said, "He wanted me to serenade you while he proposed, but I thought that was over the top."

"That was your idea!"

"Oh yeah, that's right," Harry said with a wink at Maggie.

Maggie laughed at the exchange. She looked down at the ring on her finger unable to believe that she was engaged. Turning to Harry, she said, "I can't believe that you're here."

"I had to come and make sure that you said yes. I had to watch my evil plot come to fruition," Harry answered with a smile while wiggling his eyebrows. He added, "I hope you have all the happiness that Lady Lucy and I have had."

"Did you come out here just to see this?" she asked.

"Yes I did. There's nothing more splendid than love," Happy Harry said as he stood up. Waving his shepherd's staff up in the air, Harry walked away singing, Love Is A Many-Splendored Thing.

Listening to him butcher the song, Maggie said, "He's not Frank Sinatra."

"No, he's not. He's better," said Dante while watching Harry walk away.

"Did he really come all the way out here just to see you propose to me?"

Nodding his head, he said, "Harry really wanted to be here. When I told him what I wanted to do, he made me promise that he could give the signal to reveal the statue."

The engagement lasted a year. For Dante it was a busy time. He had finished the commission from William by delivering the statues of his father and the busts of his father and grandfather. All of the statues of Harry had been delivered to Fusion Foundation Centers for their ultimate erection at the selected sites.

In addition to working on the commission, Dante had set up a studio in New York City where he could be close to Maggie while she was going to school. Once the studio was operational, Dante produced works of art at an incredible rate. He was inspired and called Maggie his muse.

His agent had walked into his studio four months after Dante had moved into it. He'd been struck dumb by the works he had seen. This agent had made only a single comment, "Rodin, you have now become the second best."

Even though he was already a well known artist, Dante's fame grew to the point where his name was becoming a household name. In his previous brush with success, Dante had gone to the parties and given interviews. In this brush with fame, Dante made sure that Maggie came first. He had come to realize that great art required a passionate soul.

The sale of a single piece brought enough money to pay for the honeymoon. It was a small piece of Happy Harry followed by a multitude of individuals who were clearly homeless or prostitutes. The title of the work was, Exodus from Poverty. It was an overnight sensation.

The wedding of Maggie and Dante was a quiet little ceremony. It was held in a quiet spot in Virginia by a small waterfall. The priest stood in front of a granite block on which two busts, one of Happy Harry and one of Lady Lucy, were staring at each other for all time. Although Happy Harry couldn't be there in person, he was there in spirit watching over the ceremony.

It was a simple ceremony in which the couple exchanged vows in the time honored tradition. Although she had argued against it, Dante had talked her into wearing white. Afterwards, she was thankful that he had insisted. Her old life was behind her.

The guest list included a dozen people who ran different Homeless Hotels from across the country and a handful from the Fallen Angels from New York and Pittsburg. Harry's absence was the source of a little sadness, but Lady Lucy was there. William and Lucy had attended as well. Because Maggie had disowned her family, there wasn't a father to give away the bride. Ellen Boyd, the head of the Fallen Angels, filled that role.

Several years later, a private reception was held in an art gallery. It was held the day before he was to open a one man show entitled, "The Hungry Man Exhibit by Dante." Dante and Maggie stood at the door and welcomed their guests. After everyone had arrived, they entered the gallery. It was absolutely quiet in the room.

The owner of the gallery, Susan Mardoe, stood to the side with a worried expression. She had expected the guests to include some of the richest clients of Dante. Instead, the guests were homeless men and women. They were filthy and smelled. She didn't want to be around them, much less touch them. It was one thing for his works to be of homeless, it was another matter entirely to have to meet them.

She watched, wide-eyed, as all of the guests gathered in front of a single piece. She had expected them to run to the works for which they had modeled. She had expected gasps, comments, curses, or even jokes about the works. She had not expected the silence. She had not expected them to walk past the images of themselves to stand in front of the only piece that wasn't for sale in the entire collection. She had not expected the tears.

The gallery owner had been shocked when Dante had brought the statue in and told her that it was there for that day only. She had stared for hours at the statue taken in by the subtle majesty of it. It was a powerful piece that portrayed a spirit that couldn't be broken. It had been difficult for her to accept the idea of a statue celebrating a crippled woman. She wondered why he brought it for only a day and why it wasn't for sale.

Dante walked over and stood beside the statue. In a quiet voice that carried easily through the silent room, he said, "Friends, I give you the Chicago Angel."

The Duchess of Dallas, a raven haired beauty, looked over the statue with a critical eye. In a soft voice, she said, "You really captured her spirit."

"I can't believe that she wore the metal braces for you," the Duke of Dallas said stunned by the power of the life sized statue.

Nodding his head, Dante said, "Everyone insisted that she wear them."

The Duchess of Dallas, holding the hand of a five year old little girl, stepped forward. She saw this as an opportunity to thank the woman who gave her so much. It was impossible to do that in person since Amy didn't feel as if she did anything special enough to deserve thanks. That was part of what made her so special. In a shaky voice, she said, "Thank you Amy for all that you have done for me."

Nodding his head in agreement, the Duke of Dallas said, "Thank you Amy for saving the life of my wife."

Bad Betty stepped forward and said, "Thank you, Miss Amy, for being you."

Lady Lucy stepped forward and said, "Thank you, Miss Amy, for being there in case anything had happened to me. You are the only woman who Harry could have loved more than me."

Only after everyone had finished their private exchange with the statue did they seek out the works for which they had posed. Much to the owner's surprise, their reactions were unlike those of any model she had ever seen. Bad Betty, who was standing in front of the bust of herself, finally asked, "Can I touch it?"

"Yes," Dante answered.

Bad Betty touched the bronze bust with reverent awe. Barely able to talk because of the emotions she was feeling, she said, "This is so beautiful. I can't believe that I'm helping such a cause."

Across the room, Susan Mardoe was trying to figure out what was happening. Seeking an explanation, she turned to William. Confusion evident in her voice, she asked, "What was that about?"

William examined the owner of the gallery. He saw a superficial woman who knew all the trendy things to say and how to act around others who followed the latest trends. Instead of answering her question, he asked, "Have you ever met a living legend?"

"I've met a lot of the rich and famous," she replied. As the owner of a very successful gallery in New York, that was a given.

"There's a vast difference between rich and famous and a living legend. I'm rich and famous, but I'm not a living legend. My father, John Carter, was a living legend when he was alive."

Lucy looked at William in amusement at his comment about himself. She knew that he was a living legend among the Native Americans despite the fact that he chose not to see that. She was also sure that the woman was not aware of that fact.

Susan recognized the name of John Carter and understood what William meant about a living legend. She still didn't understand what that meant concerning the subject of the statue. She asked, "What has that got to do with that statue?"

"Miss Amy, also known as the Chicago Angel, is a living legend," William answered gesturing to the statue.

"I've never heard of her."

"Some of your clients will know of her. If they were to see this statue, they'd offer you millions of dollars to sell it to them," William said. He walked over to stand in front of the statue. Looking back at her, he said, "One day in the distant future, copies of this statue will stand beside the statues of Happy Harry in every Homeless Hotel across the country."

"Oh."

"Gaze upon this statue and understand that you are seeing something that will not be shown for at least another twenty years," William said.

The owner looked at the statue and thought, 'A statue worth millions of dollars and hidden from view for twenty years. What a shame.' Aloud, she asked, "So why were they so awed by the statue?"

William pointed to the busts of the homeless in attendance. He then gestured to Dante who was standing to the side with an arm around Maggie watching the guests look at their statues. It was obvious that Dante was humbled by their reactions to the busts. He said, "The proceeds from the sale of those statues are paying for the castings of that statue."

"So?"

"Dante has given his guests two gifts today. He has immortalized them and he made them part of something bigger than them."


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The End
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Posted:  2006-05-03
Last Modified: 2006-05-07 / 12:40:28 pm
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