Storiesonline.net ------- Harry and Sally by Lazlo Zalezac Copyright© 2004 by Lazlo Zalezac ------- Description: Sally is a sixteen year-old runaway girl that left home in search of a modeling career. What she found was the seamy side of life and a Druid by the name of Happy Harry. Codes: MF Mf slow mag voy ------- ------- Copyright© Lazlo Zalezac, 2004 ------- Chapter 1 The world spun out of control as she attempted to stand up. Her attempt was a failure and she fell back to her knees, her hand sliding across the puddle of vomit on the ground. Disgusted, she wiped her hand on her jeans as she sat back on her heels. She closed her eyes hoping that would make the world stop spinning, but it didn't help. Instead, it made her feel like she was the one that was spinning. She bent over and vomited. Her stomach and back hurt with the effort. Her throat was already raw and her sinus cavities burned. Even as she voided the last of the food, she felt the cramps coming on again. She fell over to her side as she held her stomach unable to believe how bad she felt. She cried out, "Oh, God." "Shouldn't eat food that has been thrown out from a Chinese restaurant." She looked in the direction of the voice thinking that it sounded like her father. She cringed as she saw two copies of the figure swirling in front of her. It looked like a woman wearing a sack, but the voice was male. Here she was, sick to her stomach, and an old pervert in a dress has shown up to take advantage of her. She had no doubts that this pervert would kill her. In a way, it fulfilled the prophecies that her father had made when she threatened to leave home. She mumbled, "I'm really fucked now." The man approached her, taking his time as he stepped around pieces of trash in the alley. His walk ended with him standing beside her. He looked down at the young woman taking in her attire. Her jeans were a little dirty, but weren't worn out. The tee shirt was rumpled from being worn for several days. He guessed that she had run away from home two or three days ago. Considering that she had been desperate enough to eat food out of a trashcan, he guessed it was closer to three days. He observed, "You're pretty sick. Have the cramps started yet?" Summoning her strength, she sat up and wiped the vomit from her face with the back of her hand. Defiant, she answered, "I'm feeling fine. Get away from me." "You're going to be throwing up again any second now," replied the man looking down at her. She was an attractive enough young woman, the kind that pimps liked to put out on the streets. In the dark, it was impossible to tell what color her eyes or hair was. He added, "You really shouldn't eat food that has been thrown out from a Chinese restaurant." She stared at him, unable to make out his features in the dark alley. Her forehead broke out in a sweat as her stomach churned. As if to confirm his words, she started dry heaving. As she attempted to void an empty stomach, she noticed that the man had backed away. At least that was a positive change. It gave her hope that if he was disgusted enough that he would leave her alone. Rocking back on her knees, she saw that he was holding something out to her. The first thought that flitted through her mind was that he was going to stab her. It took a minute to make out that it was a bottle of Gatorade. Holding it so that she could see the label, he said, "Drink this. Take small sips." "Oh, fuck. You're trying to drug me," cried the girl feeling helpless. It wasn't the first time over the past few days that she had felt that she was in over her head. She realized now that she had been stupid when she had decided to leave home. It had seemed like such a good idea at the time. She would run away from home and sign up to be a model at the agency that had promised her a great future as a fashion model. The first thing they wanted from her was money. When she said she didn't have any, they suggested that she model nude. "This is Gatorade. You need to drink it in small sips," said the man as he knelt down next to her. Shaking his head, he said, "Dry heaves, huh? Your bowels will let loose soon." Even as he spoke, her intestines boiled. It was as though the suggestion was enough to trigger the need. She grunted, "Get away from me!" "You need to take a drink of this," he replied in a soft gentle voice trying to get her to trust him. It was always this way with young runaway girls. They were afraid of everyone and everything. Almost without exception, they chose to trust the wrong person. Pimps knew all the right things to say to them. After the pimp spent a few dollars on food and clothes, the girl would find herself walking the street because the pimp needed her to do that for him. After a while, it was a matter of control that often relied upon emotional abuse backed by physical violence. She pushed his hand away, rejecting his offer. She said, "Get away." Looking down at her, he asked, "So where are you going to go to the bathroom? Everything around here is closed." She groaned as another cramp gripped her. The urge to shit hit her like a ton of bricks. Clenching her anus, she tried to control the urge. She hadn't realized when she left home that if she were sick, she was going to be sick in a public place. Throwing up behind a building was one thing, suffering from diarrhea was another. The man saw the pained look that crossed her face and knew what it meant. He stood and faced away from her, spreading his robe to hide her from view. He said, "Go ahead. I won't look." Grimacing from the effort to control her bowels, she spat, "Fuck you." "You've got two choices. You can drop your pants or you can keep your pants on. Either way, your bowels are going to let loose," replied the man. His voice had a factual tone to it that irritated her. It was the same tone that her father would use when he thought she was doing something stupid. She hated that tone of voice and wanted to react negatively to it. She knew that she was losing control over her bowels and that he was right. She struggled to get up. Fighting the dizziness and spinning world, she managed to drop her pants. Her bowels boiled and she squatted down as she let loose with a watery movement. The noises her body made embarrassed her. She had never felt so humiliated in her life. She glared at the back of the man as though blaming him for her current predicament. Why didn't he just go and leave her in peace? She decided that he must be some really sick pervert if he got off on watching girls go to the bathroom. "I don't have any toilet paper." Using his shepherd's staff, he pulled over some loose sheets of newspaper without looking at her. She grabbed one sheet when it came close enough and muttered, "Thanks." "So what's your name?" "Sally," she answered automatically and then mentally kicked herself for having told him. She tore a piece of newspaper off and wiped herself with it. It felt rough and she frowned as the thought occurred to her that she was wiping herself with a dirty piece of paper. Who knew what kind of germs she was going to get from it? "It's nice to meet you, Sally. I'm Harry, but most people call me Happy Harry." Another voice called out into the night, "Hey, what's going on there?" The girl tried to shrink into herself. All she needed now was a group of men watching her suffer. What was going to happen to her next? She was sure that she was about to be gang raped. She hadn't realized that the world was filled with so many perverts. She wondered if she had been unlucky enough to find two of them. Harry looked at the figure standing in front of mouth of the alleyway. The outline of his gun and nightstick was clear. He smiled when he realized that it was Officer Hogan. He called back, "Got a sick girl here." "Is that you Happy Harry?" called back the officer with an obvious tone of relief in his voice. He knew if Harry was around, that he was taking care of someone. If it required him to do something, it would be pretty minor. "Yeah. It's me, Officer Hogan." "What's the matter?" The girl stood to pull up her pants. Harry heard her and, over his shoulder, said, "Don't bother. You'll have to go again in a minute." "Don't tell me what to do!" She looked around Harry and spotted the cop. At least now she had found someone that would help her. She wanted to call out for the cop to help protect her from this pervert. "Okay." He knew that she'd be squatting again in a minute, but he didn't want to rub it in. Harry called back to the policeman, "I found a runaway girl about fifteen or sixteen who's sick as a dog." "You going to take care of her?" asked Officer Hogan. Sally couldn't believe what she had heard the cop say. He was actually going to leave her with this pervert. She was about to tell him off when her intestines boiled and she had to drop her pants. She moaned as her bowels released their load. This had to be the most miserable day of her life. Harry said, "She's pretty sick." "Let me guess. She ate Chinese?" "Yeah," replied Harry as he glanced down the alley at the rear of the Chinese restaurant. The food in the trash bins was incredibly foul and it was a wonder that she had been able to swallow any of it. She should have gone behind a pizza place to scavenge food. "Does she need to go to the hospital?" asked the cop as he walked towards Harry. He'd call an ambulance if Harry said she needed one. "Nah. She just needs to get some fluids in her," answered Harry. He avoided the temptation to look back at the miserable girl behind him. He added, "She doesn't trust me enough to drink the Gatorade that I have for her." "Little lady, he's one of the good guys," replied the cop knowing that she probably wouldn't believe him. "Ha!" She didn't believe that for a moment. Even the stress of saying that sparked another boiling in her bowels. The world spun again and her vision doubled. She felt the urge to vomit again. She wondered if she would survive this. "He's a Druid and that makes him one of the good guys," stated Officer Hogan in a tone of voice that brooked no arguments. As far as he was concerned, there wasn't an argument that could be made. He had watched Harry change the lives of people that lived on the street. Sally was stunned by the statement that the guy was a Druid. It had never occurred to her that he wasn't wearing a dress, but a Druid robe. Druids worked with government to change things. They didn't hang around in alleyways to take care of someone that was sick. She said, "I'll take that Gatorade now." "Good. Drink it in small sips or you'll be throwing it all up," said Harry as he held the bottle behind his back. It was almost a full minute before she took the bottle from his hand. Officer Hogan asked, "So how are things going at Hobo Camp?" Hobo Camp was the name that the police had given for the homeless hotel that Harry had set up on some land that he had purchased using funds from the Fusion Foundation. Sleeping berths were provided in the form of a row of sewer pipes stacked three high. Each sewer pipe had a flat area provided by the wooden insert that kept the occupant off the cold cement surface. They were washable, an important consideration when the occupant were just as likely to get sick as not. With porto-potties, beach showers, and Fusion Well Outdoor heaters, the camp provided all the basic necessities associated with shelter. Harry smiled at the change of subjects and answered, "Things are going well. I've got a short list of people who will take over for me when I move on." The news that Harry would be leaving was a surprise. Officer Hogan asked, "I'm sorry to hear that you are moving on. When are you going?" "When I'm called to go," answered Harry. It was strange, but his service to the Goddess had not impacted his wanderlust in any fashion other than to allow him to wander further and quicker. The pair of men talked as Sally continued to suffer through her bout of food poisoning. It took an hour, but she finally recovered enough to be able to stand without having the world spin. Harry said, "You stay here with Officer Hogan while I get you a change of clothes." After Harry walked away, Sally moved towards the mouth of the alley to get away from where she had thrown up and shit. She took another sip of her drink and listened to the policeman talk about Harry. It seemed that Harry was one of the good guys. Harry returned to the alley to find the cop talking with the young woman. He took his time knowing that Officer Hogan would reassure the girl that she was in good hands. As he walked, he tried to decide what he would do with her. It was the first question that the cop would ask him when he returned. As he approached, he heard Officer Hogan tell the girl, "Harry's the last of the Hobos. His parents were Hobos and he was raised a hobo, but he's a good man. He takes care of others and passes on his knowledge about how to survive outside the normal bounds of society." That he was the last of the hobos was a true statement in Harry's opinion. It had been years since he had seen a Hobo sign although he still left the marks to warn others of towns that were hostile to vagrants. He doubted that any of the current generation that called themselves hobos knew the signs, the songs and the stories. He had even met a few of them that actually owned houses. He approached and said, "I found something for you to wear. It's not great, but it is clean." He handed her the gown and wasn't surprised by the look of dismay that crossed her face when she saw what it was. Young women were always concerned about their appearance even if they were sick. She complained, "I can't wear this." "It's better than wearing your shit stained pants," replied Harry without any trace of compassion in his voice. She had to learn to take care of herself and this included taking care of her body. Life was tough on the streets for a pretty girl. For that matter, life was tough on the streets for an ugly girl. Shocked by his rough language, she realized that he was right. When the man turned his back to her and spread his robe, she turned away and removed her shirt and put on the dress. At least she had been wearing a bra. It was basically a sack with a hole for her head and two for her arms. Once the dress was on, she pulled her pants off. She was left holding her shirt and pants wondering what to do with them. It took her a minute to realize that Harry was holding a plastic bag behind his back for her to use. She grabbed the bag and stuffed her clothes into it. After a minute, she said, "You can turn around now." Harry turned and looked at her. It was definitely an ugly outfit and made her look like she was pregnant. At least now he could let her ride in the Roach Coach with him. Officer Hogan asked, "Are you going to take care of her or should I take her over to juvie?" "I'll take care of her," answered Harry. She didn't need to go into the Juvenile Lockup as a runaway considering her current state of weakness. They'd eat her up there. If she were worried about rape out here, she'd be shocked to have her fears become real there. "Good. I hate to see girls like her go in there," replied the cop. He turned to the young lady and said, "You do everything that Harry says. If you screw up, he'll call me in and I'll have to take you to Juvenile Hall. You wouldn't like it there." Sally sat in the passenger seat while Harry drove the truck back to the homeless hotel. When they turned off the main street and headed to an area under a bridge, she started to get worried. This looked like a rough neighborhood and it was just as rough as it looked like it was. An industrial area on one side, a slum on the other side, and a river on the third bordered it. The ground was littered with trash. She hoped that it would look better in the light of day, but suspected that it didn't. This was the kind of place where homeless people hung out if they wanted to avoid getting arrested. They weren't welcome in the suburbs or the nice parts of town. Occasional work was available in the industrial area and the slum. One day of hard work could earn enough to last a week or more. Railroad tracks ran through the central part of the industrial area and they weren't far from the highway. In fact, a bridge ran overhead to cross the river. The headlights illuminated the camp. Rows of sewer pipes about three feet in diameter lined one side of the camp. A row of outhouses and shower stalls lined the other side. At one end was a small metal shack. Harry pulled the truck up to the metal shack and turned off the headlights. Turning to Sally, he said, "We're here." She looked around and asked, "Where are we?" "We're home," replied Harry as he got out of the truck. He walked over to the metal shack and opened the door. Entering, he flipped on a light switch and had to take a minute for his eyes to get used to the sudden light. The stack of blankets had gone down by a few, but that was expected. One of the plastic trashcans was gone. He figured that meant one of the guests must have been drunk and Tin Tom had required them to use the trashcan. He picked up a blanket, a bar of soap, a towel, and one of the plastic trashcans. Deciding there was nothing else that she needed, he left the shack turning the light off behind him. It took a minute for his eyes to get used to the dark. He handed the stack of items to Sally as he said, "These are for you to use. If you get sick, use the plastic trashcan." Taking the supplies, she was shocked at the scratchy feel of the blanket and wondered how she would sleep using it. She complained, "It's all scratchy." "It's wool. Strong, durable, and warm, it will last for years," answered Harry. He pointed to the showers and said, "Take a shower and wash your clothes. Set the clothes out to dry at the rear of your bed." Sally did as she had been instructed. When he had told her to take a shower, she had expected hot water and was disappointed to learn that it was cold tap water. It was hard to stay under the spray of cold water as she washed herself and then her clothes. The shower didn't leave much for privacy. The door covered enough of her body that no one would be able to see much of her, but it was unnerving to know that a little door held only by a spring was all that stood between her naked body and any eyes that might be interested. It was with some relief that she was able to put the ugly sack dress on again. She stepped out of the shower and looked around at her surroundings. The night, filled with the sounds of men snoring, was not silent. She felt lost and alone, jumping when she heard Harry say, "Follow me and I'll take you to a bed." She followed him dutifully as he walked past sections of sewer pipes that contained people within them. Looking into one as she passed by it, she could see the head of a man lying on his back with his mouth open in a snore. After walking past a few empty ones, Harry stopped and pointed. "You can sleep here." She looked in the section of sewer pipe. A narrow wooden plank covered the bottom. She threw her damp clothes into the pipe and crawled into it. There wasn't much room and she kept hitting her head as she tried to set her wet clothes at the end of it. Once she had everything arranged, she lay down on the wooden plank and covered herself with the blanket. Sleep was long in coming. Twice she had to leave the pipe and go to the bathroom. Using real facilities was an improvement over the alleyway, even though the porto-potties smelled of urine and chemicals. She missed a proper bathroom. Lying in the sewer pipe, she wondered how she had ended up there. She had wanted to go into modeling and her father was standing in her way. He had told her that it was a scam and she had learned that he was right. All they wanted from her was money or her naked body. So maybe he was right about this one, but she knew that she could be a model. After all, everyone told her that she was beautiful. Her parents just didn't understand her and with their arbitrary rules, were doing everything in their power to make her life miserable. Who cared if she cleaned her room today or tomorrow? So long as it got cleaned occasionally, it didn't matter. It was unfair that they had so much control over her life. Her thoughts turned to the past few days. She had expected things to go better than they had gone. She had spent the first night in the stairwell of a parking garage. It had been horrible, but she had gone back there the second night. She had gotten about three hours of sleep before a security guard chased her out. The rest of the night had been spent wandering aimlessly around the streets. When she had seen someone walking the streets, she had hidden herself from view and waited terrified that they would try to rape her. What little money she had was gone by the middle of the second day. That evening, she was hungry, but couldn't buy any food. The entire next day was spent looking for something to eat, but she had not been lucky. She had tried to get food from people in the park by looking pathetic, but they ignored her. By that night, she had been desperate to eat something. With no money she had decided to get something out of the trashcans behind a restaurant. That had led to the most humiliating experience of her life. She fell asleep thinking about the hours spent in the alley. Her dreams were haunted with images of her being sick in front of her schoolmates. Morning came early in the homeless hotel. Sally woke to the sounds of people moving around, coughing, and talking. She looked out and saw an old man with a short grizzled beard looking back at her. He moved his jaw as if he were chewing, but when he opened his mouth there weren't any teeth. At the shocked look on her face, he threw his head and laughed. Slapping his knee, he continued on to the porto-potty. Confused by his behavior, Sally didn't know what to think of the old man. Reaching down to her feet, she touched the jeans finding that they were still damp. Her stomach growled and she made her way out of the sewer pipe in the search of food. Looking around, she found the metal shack and headed towards it hoping to find Harry. The camp was even uglier during the day. The row of cement sewer pipe made it look like a construction site. The porto-pottys were clean, but it was impossible to escape their smell. The neighboring area was filled with trash and she wondered where it came from. Only a minute went by before she saw a paper bag fly down from the bridge, thrown out the window of a moving car. The scariest thing was the homeless people milling around in layers of worn clothes. Bad teeth, unshaven faces, and uncombed hair made them look dangerously undisciplined. At the metal shack, a trio of men sat around on cinder blocks without saying much. She looked at the youngest of the three men, taking in his thin frame, military fatigue jacket, the rough beard, weathered hands, and scars on his face. Mentally, she decided he was a rapist. He looked up at her and frowned as he muttered, "Jail bait." The oldest man looked up at her. His belly was huge and hung over his belt. Even though it was a warm day, Sally could tell that he had five layers of clothes on. After he spat on the ground, he said, "Pull up a cinderblock." Sally looked around and saw a cinderblock next to the third man. Sitting down on it, she asked, "Where do you get food around here?" The three men laughed at the question. The guy next to her struck his thigh and answered, "Just call room service, Princess." The oldest man joked, "I bet you would like some steak and eggs." The guy next to her rubbed his crotch and said, "I've got a tube steak for you to eat." Sally didn't understand what was so funny about her question. The man next to her was just disgusting. She crossed her arms and looked away in disdain thinking that someone should have taught them manners when they were young. The youngest man looked around and said, "Lay off her. Harry'll be back soon. He'll feed her and she'll have to work for the food just like us." "Shit, Tin Tom. Just havin' a lil fun wit her," replied the man sitting next to Sally. The man had used the nickname by which Tom was known on the streets. Some man had called him a tin soldier and the name stuck. At first, he had hated the nickname but there wasn't anything he could do about it. Tom replied, "She's just a kid. Leave her alone." The oldest man sniffed as he rubbed a hand through what little remained of his hair. Turning to look at Sally, he said, "I guess it falls upon me to perform the introductions. Folks call me Fat Man, the gentleman next to you is George, and the soldier here is Tin Tom." "Nice to meet you, Fat Man, George, and Tin Tom. I'm Sally." She felt weird about calling someone Fat Man, but that was the name he wanted to go by. Now that the introductions were over, she didn't know what else to say. Tin Tom sat there for a minute examining her and then asked, "So was your daddy or step-daddy screwing you or something?" The question struck Sally like a slap across her face. She sat up and answered, "Most certainly not. My Daddy isn't a pervert." "Then what in the hell are you doing out here when you could be at home?" asked George. It was a good question and one that she should have asked herself before. Rather than answer, she asked, "What are you doing here?" George answered, "I was sick and went to one of those Fusion clinics. They gave me some pills and told me to get out of the weather until I recovered. I came here to the Hobo Hotel. I took the last pill last night and will leave after breakfast." Fat Man winked at her and said, "The reason I'm here is that it is between where I was and where I'm going." "So where you are going?" asked Sally. "I'll know when I get there," answered Fat Man with a chuckle. When he got to where he was going, he'd drop dead because that was the only way he'd stop moving. It didn't make sense to Sally and she was about to ask him to explain himself when Tin Tom said, "Harry's coming." George looked around and saw no sign of Harry. He asked, "How in the hell does he know if Harry's coming?" "From the chair that he's sitting in, he can see Harry drive past those two buildings over there," answered Fat Man. Tin Tom said, "Princess, I'd better warn you about the folks around here. Only two reasons people are homeless nowadays. They either want to be homeless or they're crazy." Nodding his head in agreement, Fat Man said, "Not too many people want to be homeless." Sally understood what the old man was saying. It was a not so subtle way of letting her know that most of the guys around here were crazy. She looked around trying to see who was crazy and who wasn't. Tin Tom said, "You can't tell by looking, Princess." The Roach Coach turned down the street to where they were waiting. Other people emerged from the sewer pipes and started drifting over to the metal shack. Sally watched them, trying to tell which ones were crazy and which weren't. Tin Tom was right, you couldn't tell by looking. They all looked creepy to her. Harry pulled up to the metal shack and climbed out the door of the truck. Looking around the camp with a smile plastered on his face, he went around to the side of the truck and swung the panel upwards. When it locked into place, he stepped back while everyone formed a line. Tin Tom stood and started to head over to the truck. He stopped and looked back at Sally realizing that she wasn't going to get in line. For a moment, he wondered if she expected Harry to bring the food over to her. Sighing, he asked, "Princess, do you expect him to deliver your breakfast to you?" The question went to the heart of what she had been thinking, but his continued use of the term princess bothered her. Sally stood and followed Tin Tom to the end of the line. George and Fat Man got into line behind her. The line moved fast as Harry handed out cups of coffee and donuts. When one of the people stepped up to the truck, Harry said, "Jack, you know the rules. Bed is free, but you have to work for your meal." "Shit, I'll work for it after I eat." Shaking his head, Harry had heard that line so many times in the past that he knew not to fall for it. He picked up a plastic trash bag and handed over to Jack as he said, "Last time you told me that, you disappeared after you ate. You have to work first, eat later. Fill the bag with trash from over there." Sally waited in line, her stomach making a continuous rumble, but when she reached the front, Harry said, "Bed is free, but you have to earn your meals." The news that he expected her to work surprised her, particularly since he knew just how hungry she was. She was so hungry that she couldn't see straight, but accepted the plastic bag from Harry without complaint. She had heard a number of murmurs, "Princess." Never had she heard such a word convey so much disdain. Without expressing any of the hundred reasons why she felt that she shouldn't have to work, she headed over to the field next to the camp and started picking up the trash. Her hunger worked on her mind and she worked mechanically. The field was full of trash, either thrown from the bridge above or blown into the field from the industrial park. It didn't take long for her to fill the plastic bag. Moving woodenly, she returned to the Roach Coach. The line of people waiting for food was gone, but Harry waited inside the truck for anyone that might be hungry. He looked at the bag of trash and said, "Princess, I see that you've picked up some trash. Put the bag in the dumpster over there and wash your hands." Without arguing, she did as instructed. When she returned, he handed her a quarter of a donut and a half-cup of coffee. Looking at it, she complained, "Only a quarter?" "For now. Put too much food in that empty stomach and you'll lose it all again," replied Harry. He added, "Eat slowly." After his predications of the night before, she knew better than to argue. Nibbling on the donut, she was surprised when her stomach started to rebel after eating half of what she had been given. She drank a sip of the coffee, the hot beverage spreading warmth through her insides. Harry said, "Since you weren't abused by your parents, you've got only a few choices. You can live a life like the people here. In ten years, you'll look twice your age and people will look down on you as a bag lady. You can become a whore and start fucking your way through life. Course, it won't be long before you get hooked on drugs. You could make it on your own, but that's highly unlikely. No money, no high school diploma, and no work experience. Nope, it seems to me like you have two choices, bag lady or whore." "Aren't you going to send me home?" asked Sally. She had listened to his assessment knowing full well that he was correct, but not wanting to believe it. "Why would I do that?" asked Harry with a smile. He looked her directly in the eye as he added, "You could leave again." She stared at him wondering what he expected of her. ------- Chapter 2 Sally moved closer to Harry as they walked down the city street. He walked using his staff like a walking stick. A dog wandered down the street in front of them, stopping to mark its territory on signposts, fire hydrants, and corners of buildings. The people in the street looked even creepier to her than the people at the homeless hotel. They looked at her with suspicion. She'd seen lots of movies that claimed to show the ugly side of life, but the picture they presented paled in comparison to the real thing. Ill fitting clothes, dirty looking people, the surrounding filth, and horrible language beat on her soul. The people were so hard that it was impossible to feel empathy for them. Happy Harry moved through the people in a slow comfortable pace. His smile and kind words evoked smiles everywhere that he went. He flirted outrageously with old ladies, going so far as telling one that if she weren't married he'd bed her in a minute. Sally had watched in shock as the woman preened and stood up straighter. Harry had winked and continued his way down the street. Across the street were a couple of men pushing shopping carts filled with aluminum cans. One of the men stopped by a trashcan and dug through it, adding a couple of cans to his cart. When he was done, he wiped his nose with the back of his hand. Sally shivered in disgust at the idea that he had just dug through a trash can and then touched his face with the same hand. She had to hurry to catch up to Harry when he started to cross the street to where the men with the shopping carts were hard at work digging through trashcans. She frowned when she realized where he was heading. One of the men looked up and shouted, "Hey, Happy Harry. How are you doing?" "I'm doing fine. I see you've got quite a haul today," remarked Harry as he glanced over at the cart. "I'll get enough for an all-you-can place," replied the man as he scratched the back of his neck. Sally looked at the man and saw that he had some kind of skin disease. Major areas of his arms had skin sloughing off. She wondered if he had leprosy. Seeing where Sally was looking, Harry asked, "Have you been to the Fusion Foundation Clinic?" "Yeah, they gave me a tube of cream to put on my arms. I've been doing it for a week, but it doesn't seem to be helping any," answered the man. He rubbed his arms and flakes of skin drifted away in the breeze. A shiver of disgust crept up her spin and Sally made sure that she was upwind of him. She didn't know if what he had was contagious, but she wasn't going to risk it. She watched as Harry talked to the men for a good ten minutes about the price of cans, where they were staying, and how others were doing. When Harry finally left, she fell into step beside him. Looking back at the two men, she asked, "Why spend so much time with them?" "They're working rather than begging. I just check with them occasionally to make sure that everything is going okay in their lives," he answered as he glanced over in her direction. He added, "Simple health problems turn deadly when you live out on the street. A simple flu can kill you. There are lots of things to make you sick out here. Skin diseases, hepatitis, pneumonia, and exposure to chemicals are everywhere." "His arms looked horrible," remarked Sally. "Princess, lots of things look horrible, but aren't. That's a simple psoriasis, looks ugly but it's not dangerous. It's the ones that don't look that bad that are dangerous." She stopped to look at him while wondering what he meant by that comment. She raced to catch up hoping that he would explain his comment, but he was busy waving to other folks. She looked down the street and saw a woman pushing a shopping cart filled with clothes, bags, and other stuff that she couldn't make out. Harry stopped at an alley and, with a smile, said, "Come with me." She followed him down the alley amazed at how filthy it was. The buildings on each side of the alley seemed to reach up to the sky. They made it a dark forbidding place even in the afternoon. When they walked past a restaurant, her stomach threatened to lose the lunch that she had eaten an hour earlier. The odor was overpowering. She screamed when a rat crossed the alley in front of them. In a tone meant to reassure her, Harry said, "Don't worry. They won't bite a person that is awake unless they are rabid. They do bite when you sleep though." "God, that's gross!" "If you ever just look at one, they are kind of cute. Of course, stay away from them. They have diseases and can be quite vicious." Harry walked along ignoring the rat that had backed up against the wall and glared at them. Sally moved even closer to Harry afraid of running across other rats in the alley. She screamed when a cat burst out from behind a dumpster and nearly climbed onto Harry. He laughed at her nervousness and said, "It's just an alley cat." He led her to the rear of an abandoned warehouse. The red bricks were crumbling, windows were broken, and the cement steps up to the loading platform were cracked. The door, missing a hinge, was stuck open. They entered into a large room that must have been part of a storage area. Scattered across the floor were old clothes, newspapers, and blankets. Near the center of the room was a five- gallon metal paint can that was surrounded by milk crates and wood boxes. There was even a metal lawn chair that had seen better days. She asked, "What is this place?" Harry didn't answer immediately as he looked in one of the rooms off to the side. The wall of the room had glass windows overlooking the large area, but the windows were covered with newspapers rendering them useless. The room next to it had the windows broken out. He said, "Some street people have taken over the building. I'm here to see one of the residents, but she's not here yet." He sat down on the floor and leaned against the wall, prepared to stay there for an hour. She looked over at the boxes in the center of the room and asked, "Why aren't you sitting over there?" "I don't know who owns them. Some people react violently when you use their property," replied Harry looking over at her hoping that she was smart enough to know better than try to convince him that they could use them anyway. She looked at the boxes, crates, and chair wondering who would possibly react violently to someone sitting on them. She asked, "Why would they get upset?" Harry laughed at the comment satisfied that she was at least curious about it rather than denying its existence. Shaking his head, he knew that she hadn't yet come to grips with the world that she had entered. Taking a deep breath, he answered, "They'd get upset because that crate, box, or chair is all they have." Amazed that someone would consider a box taken out of the trash as a possession, she said, "That's so sad." Trying to make a point, he replied, "You don't even have that much." She was about to say that she had lots of stuff at home, but realized that she left home behind. What would she take from home if she could only have what she could carry? It was a sobering thought. She didn't even have a purse, having lost it during her second day on the streets. Just thinking about its loss, brought back the memory of her anger on discovering that it had been stolen. Sighing, she said, "You're right." Leaning back so that the wall supported his back, Happy Harry started singing a song. Each line was delivered in the same rhythm punctuated by a heavy 'huh.' Sally listened to the song wondering when he was going to get to the end, but it just kept going. Curious, she asked, "What are you singing?" Harry stopped singing and answered, "It's an old Gandy Dancer work song." "I have no idea what that means." To while away the time, Harry talked about the days when men called Gandy Dancers performed maintenance of the railroad tracks. Their job was to straighten tracks, keep them the proper distance apart, and replace the railroad ties that were rotting. The men would sing songs to make the time go by faster and to coordinate their work. Eight to fourteen black men often made up a team and were watched over by a white foreman. One of the workers would take the position of caller and lead the others in song. Harry told about how he had loved watching them at work when he was a kid. The huge strong men moving rails with long levers while singing was an amazing sight. Their movements gave the impression that the men were performing an intricate dance. As far as Harry was concerned, it was a sad day when the Gandy Dancers were replaced by machines in the 60s. Harry said, "There used to be lots of work songs. Songs to straighten track, songs to break rock, and songs to drive steel. The Gandy Dancers were the last of the songsters." Sally thought about it, but didn't understand the significance. After a moment of silence, Harry said, "Something important died that day. That was the day when work and song became separated. Because of that separation, people working together became isolated from each other. Each person is working in his or her own little world. Life is a little sadder today than it was then." "Wow, I never thought of people working to music," replied Sally. She tried to imagine people in an office working to music, but there wasn't a song appropriate for an office place. She realized that there weren't any jobs left today in which teamwork required such precise synchronization. Harry sat back and started to sing another song. He taught her the words so that she could sing the counterpart. Together they sang the song through twice before there was the sound of someone moving up the stairs of the old building. The pair stopped singing waiting for the person to show up. Harry stood when the bag lady came into the room. Surprised to see him standing, Sally stood as well wondering what was going on. She examined the woman, taking in the weathered face, worn clothes, and lack of makeup. There was a dull look to the skin that suggested dirt, but it wasn't obvious. It was impossible to imagine the woman living in the suburbs. The woman made her way over to Harry and said, "Well, Harry. It's about time you came to visit me." "Lucy, wild horses couldn't keep me away once I heard you were back," replied the Druid with a smile as he hugged her. The woman hugged Harry back and then broke away to glance in the direction of Sally. Her smile turned into a frown as she asked, "Who's the girl?" "Lucy, I'd like you to meet Sally. Sally, this is the Lady Lucy." Sally nodded her head wondering what the relationship was between Harry and Lucy. Lucy wasn't satisfied with his answer and asked, "So who is she?" "A runaway girl," answered Harry. He looked over at Sally and then said, "I'm showing her the life of the homeless and then I'll show her the life of a whore. She'll have to decide which one she'll follow, but at least she'll have the facts." Smiling at Harry, Lucy shook her head and said, "You've become too serious since you became a Druid." Harry looked at Lucy and put an arm around her. With a smile, he said, "Not so serious that I won't spend some time with the first lady of the streets." "You know what I like to hear," Sally said as she pushed her cart into the room and waited for Harry. Her hands moved up to remove a layer of clothes while waiting for Harry to join her in the room. Harry turned to Sally and said, "Knock on the door if anyone comes in." She nodded, not understanding what was happening. Harry went into the room and closed the door behind him. She sat down on the floor, her back to the wall. Leaning her head back so that it was resting on the wall, she found that she could hear sounds inside the room. Time passed slowly. After about a half an hour, she realized the noises coming through the wall were those of passion. Curious, she stood up and looked at the window. There was a small hole in the newspaper that she could see through. She put her eye to the hole and looked into the room. Light filtered through a window in that room so that she could see what was going on inside. She gasped as she realized that Harry was having sex with Lucy. From her vantage point, all she could see was his ass, with balls pulled up tight, moving up and down. His cock was buried in the spread open pussy. Lucy had her legs spread as wide as was humanly possible and her arms were grasped around Harry's back. Sally stared at the sight feeling guilty at peeping, disgust at the fact that they were engaging in that act in such horrid surroundings, and turned on at the same time. Her hand snaked between her legs, without her conscious will directing it. She started to rub herself and then realized what she was doing. She pulled her hand away and sat down on the floor thinking about what she had seen. It had never occurred to her that homeless folks might have a sex life. Why had Harry insisted that she come with him? Was it so that she could see this? She didn't know and that bothered her. Staring at the empty room slowly got on her nerves. There was a thin layer of dirt on everything. A number of windows were broken and a few of those were covered with plywood. The intact windows were so dirty that it was impossible to make out what was on the other side of them. The odor of human waste hung in the air. It was hard to distinguish trash from prized possessions. It seemed like forever before the door of the room opened. Harry stuck his head out of the door and called, "Come on in, Princess." Hating the fact that everyone called her Princess, she wanted to argue. Curiosity won out. Sally stood and entered the room finding Lucy sitting on the floor near where she had been when Harry had been having sex with her. Her face colored at the reminder of what she had seen. The scent of sex hung heavily in the air. Lucy noticed the blush and said, "A woman has her needs, even a bag lady like myself." "I guess," replied Sally. She waved a hand around to point out the surroundings and asked, "Here?" "Did you expect us to rent a room at the Ritz?" asked Harry with a twinkle in his eye. Laughing wildly, Lucy managed to say, "Like that's ever gonna happen." "Did I say something stupid," asked Sally wondering why they were laughing at her. Harry sat down on the ground next to Lucy and placed an arm around her. Leaning against the Druid, Lucy said, "This is as nice a place for sex as anywhere else and better than most. We've got alleyways, but there just ain't much privacy there. 'sides, they're even dirtier than here." They had walked past cheap hotels that offered rooms for five dollars a day. It seemed to her that they could afford to spend five dollars on room. She asked, "What about the cheap hotels that we passed on the way here?" Harry laughed and said, "Half of the rooms don't even have doors. It's too dangerous for women to go into them. Believe it or not, this is a palace compared to a lot of places where people live." It was a depressing thought. This place didn't even seem as nice as the homeless hotel that Harry operated. She asked, "So why don't people stay at your place? That seems a lot nicer than here." Lucy answered, "His place is nicer than here, but it doesn't have the same kind of privacy. Beside, I couldn't stay in one place all of the time. Most folks go to stay there when they really need a place to stay while recovering from an illness or if the weather is really bad. The comforts are minimal, but it is safe and warm. Everyone gets checked on, so if you're sick that's good." Harry said, "We have some people that come there to eat dinner. They work during the afternoon washing sleeping areas with bleach and water, eat dinner, and then leave to sleep elsewhere." "Why wouldn't they sleep there, too?" "We're dealing with people that move outside the bounds of society. Some are mentally ill and others are just loners. Each one is an individual and proud of their individuality. If you take them out of the street and put them in a nice house in a good neighborhood with a paying job, they'll end up on the street within a month." Harry was quiet for a moment as he thought about it. Finally, he said, "Can't force them to change and I wouldn't do it if I could. We can only help people in a way that they can accept." Sally was silent as she considered what he had said. It was hard for her to believe that there were people that liked being homeless and preferred that lifestyle. Had she decided that she would prefer to be homeless over her previous life at home with her parents? No, she'd head home before that happened. She asked, "So what are you doing?" "I'm providing a safe haven for people that don't have one," answered Harry. Harry and Lucy talked while Sally leaned against the wall thinking about what she was going to do. It was weird, but he hadn't suggested that she should call her parents and go home. She wondered what he was trying to achieve by hauling her around the area. Was it that he was letting her see what kind of future she was facing if she stayed? If that was his plan, she was sure that if she went home, she'd stay there. Harry roused her out of her thoughts when he touched her shoulder. She stood and followed him out of the building wondering where he was going. The alley was much darker than it had been earlier. Harry's staff made a clicking sound as the end contacted the concrete. At the end of the alley, he turned to the left so that he was heading deeper into the slum. Sally made sure that she stayed close to him. They hadn't gone far when a well-dressed black man wearing a leather coat stepped in front of Harry. There was a dull look to his eyes, his mouth was set, and he posed aggressively. With a slight upward tilt of his head, he asked, "What are you doing down here, Mr. Druid Man?" Harry stopped a foot away from the man, well within his personal space, and replied, "I'm keeping my people safe from creeps like you." "You keep away from my ho's." "I don't want anything to do with your ho's. What would I want with your ass-hole or pie-hole?" replied Harry. His eyes narrowed as he stared in the eyes of the black man. "Don't disrespect me by acting stupid. You leave my bitches alone," said the man in a cold even voice. It carried a greater threat than if he had raised his voice. "The young ladies around here do not belong to you. I'll talk to anyone I want and will help anyone that asks for help," replied Harry. His voice was calm and collected. "Don't fuck with me Druid. I'll bury you," spat the black man. Harry grinned and replied, "Ask the Mafia what happens when you fuck with a Druid." "There's no Mafia left, fool." "Exactly," replied Harry with a smile as he pushed the man out of his way. Sally stuck close to Harry afraid of the black man and what he would do. The man turned and stared at Harry feeling a rage building within him. Last month the Druid had taken four of his whores off the street and into the Fusion Foundation. That had cost him a fortune, at least five hundred a night. There was no way that he would let that Druid cost him more money. Looking at the little white girl with Harry, he thought she'd make an excellent addition to his stable. Sally whispered, "He looked dangerous." "He is dangerous. You saw him when he was angry. If he was trying to get you into his stable of prostitutes, he'd have been the most charming man you'd ever met," replied Harry as he looked over at her. They came to another alley and Harry led her into it. There was a stairwell down into the basement of one of the buildings. Sally looked down into it and saw a woman on her knees giving a blowjob to a disgusting fat man. The woman was making moaning sounds as if she was enjoying the act. Harry pulled Sally on down the alley and said, "We'll wait here." "Did you see what they were doing?" asked Sally incredulous at what she had witnessed. "She was making twenty dollars giving the guy a blowjob," answered Harry in a matter of fact voice. That woman was on her knees for twenty dollars? She couldn't believe that a woman would do that for twenty dollars. Her voice rose as she said, "She's gotta be crazy." "She'll give twenty of them a night and only get to keep a part of the money she earns. That guy back there will take most of it." Sally fumed as she thought about it. The young woman was the one doing all the work and that guy thought he deserved most of it. It was outrageous. She was ready to tell Harry that, when he held a finger to his lips in the universal gesture to be quiet. She looked at the end of the alley and saw the man climbing out of the stairwell. When the man left the alley, Harry headed towards the stairwell. Sally looked up in the air thinking that he was going to get a blowjob. The woman came out of the stairwell and saw Harry. She smiled as she said, "Hey Harry. You come down here for one of my blow jobs?" "Hello Crystal. You know better than that. I like my women a little more mature than you," answered Harry. Sally looked at Harry and then at the young woman. She put the woman at about twenty and was shocked when Crystal said, "Shit, I'm almost sixteen." "I like my women of legal age," replied Harry without cracking a smile. "If a creep like that last guy doesn't mind, why should a nice guy like you?" asked Crystal. She had offered to give Harry a blowjob several times, but he always refused even when she told him it would be free. "That's why I'm a nice guy," answered Harry with a wink. Crystal faltered and then asked, "Were you serious that you could get me out of here?" "Very serious," replied Harry as Sally wondered what was going on. "What do I need to do?" Crystal was worried that her pimp would discover them leaving. "Just come with me." "He'll catch us." There was real fear in her voice. "Doesn't matter," replied Harry. In a very soothing tone of voice, he said, "He can't stop me from taking you to a place of safety. He isn't strong enough or mean enough." Crystal folded her arms across her chest and bounced in place. She was frowning as she said, "You don't know Charlie, he's crazy." "I know him and thousands like him," answered Harry with a sigh. It was the truth. He did know thousands just like Charlie. Men that hung around bus stations waiting for young female runaways to leave the station. They went in to approach the girl by talking about how rough the poor girl had it at home and how if she was his girl, he'd show her how a lady was supposed to be treated. For the next day or two, she'd be his favorite girl. That meant eating out, buying clothes, and taking her to her first bar. Then he'd put her to work on the street. Sally suggested, "Don't you think we should get away from here?" Happy Harry smiled and said, "Follow me ladies." Sally kept up with Harry, not wanting to leave his side for even a moment. Crystal was a little slower, but she finally ran a few steps to catch up. At the end of the alley, a black Cadillac pulled up in front of them. On seeing it, Crystal cried, "Oh my God." Sally started to feel afraid when Charlie stepped out of the passenger seat of the car. Her fear grew when three other men got out of the other three doors. Each of the men took a moment to make sure their jackets hung smooth as if to say that it was important to look good before getting into a fight. Harry shifted his grip on the staff so that it hung parallel to the ground. Charlie said, "I see you brought me a nice little brown haired morsel to add to my stable." "You need to get your glasses fixed because you're seeing things that ain't there," replied Harry. One of the other men said, "He's funny." Harry lifted his left hand and held the fingers out at the men. He stood in place waiting for the four men to do something. Sally was so scared that she grabbed the arm of Crystal and, in a terrified whisper, asked, "What's happening?" Crystal answered, "They're gonna beat the shit out of him and then they are going to beat the shit out of me. I hate to think of what he'll do to you." The words sent a chill down her spine as she realized that she was going to get gang rapped by the four men that night. She wanted to hit Harry for telling her to come with him. She backed up ready to run and looked down the alley to see if the way was clear. She heard Charlie say, "Now you die, mother fucker." When she turned back to see what was happening, she was shocked. Harry was still standing in the same spot, but two of the men were on the ground clutching their throats. Charlie was staring at Harry as though wondering what happened. The other guy still standing said, "What the fuck!" The other man moved to reach inside his coat. Harry wiggled his fingers and the man then dropped to the ground as if struck by lightening. The man on the ground clutched his throat as he tried to breathe. Harry's eyes had never left Charlie's eyes and he continued to watch Charlie as he said, "You better get on that cell phone you carry in your right pocket and call 911 before your friends die. Reach in the wrong pocket and you all die." "What the fuck did you do to them?" asked Charlie confused. He swore the guy had never moved except for a small waving of his fingers of his left hand. He didn't believe in magic, but this guy seemed to have cast a spell on the other three. "Crushed their windpipes," answered Harry. "Better get on the phone." Charlie went for his gun rather than the cell phone. Before he had even grasped the gun, he had collapsed to the ground. Harry bent down and reached in the right pocket. Removing a cell phone, he opened it and dialed 911. After a minute of discussion, he closed the cell phone and turned to the two girls. Sally was staring at him in shock. Crystal was on the ground crying. It was impossible to tell if it because she felt bad for Charlie or from relief. "I guess they didn't notice the staff in my hand," said Harry as he held up the staff. It was very thin. He bent down and examined the four men on the ground trying to decide if he was going to have to perform an emergency tracheostomy. The first guy was turning blue. Pulling out a knife, he cut a slit in the guy's throat and inserted a short section of tube that he had taken from his pocket. It was unnecessary for him to repeat the process with the other three. He was standing over the four men when the police car pulled up. Officer Hogan stepped out of the patrol car to join Harry while his partner bent down examining the men on the ground. Looking over the four men and seeing the tube stuck out of one of the throats, he asked, "What happened?" "They threatened to kill me and then went for their guns." Harry held up his left hand and wiggled his fingers as he said, "I cast a spell on them. Then I had to perform first aid." "You sucker punched them with your staff and had to keep them alive so that you wouldn't be charged with manslaughter," replied the cop. He looked down as his partner pulled out guns from under their coats. He asked, "Serial numbers?" "Filed off." Sally watched as a number of women came across the street and joined Crystal. They were all dressed in outfits that were equally revealing. It was weird standing there surround by girls her age knowing that they were prostitutes. They should have been in school trying out to be cheerleaders, not on their knees sucking cocks in an alley or the front seat of a car. She listened as two of the girls discussed a customer that one of them had that evening. She cringed as she heard the one say, "He was a real freak. He wanted me to grab his ball sack and pull as hard as I could while I was sucking him off. Shit I thought I was gonna pull it off, but he kept telling to pull harder." The other girl replied, "Hey, it's better to have them begging you to hurt them than for them to want to hurt you." Sally asked, "Are you ever going to be able to date a guy?" All of the women were silent as they considered the question. After the silence had drug on too long, one of them said, "Honey, a date is a hundred dollars." The next morning it was a very changed Sally that called home, using the cell phone that Harry produced from his pocket, and asked her father if he would pick her up. When he said that he would come right down, she had surprised herself and her father by telling him to take his time. After finishing the call, she grabbed a plastic bag and started to pick up trash in the field by the homeless hotel. It was a never- ending battle and one that would keep the homeless earning breakfast for years to come. People threw trash off the bridge all day long and a person or two would pick it up in the morning. When the trash bag was full, she threw it in the dumpster and washed her hands. By the time she had finished, Harry had opened the door on the Roach Coach. Joining the other homeless people, she stood in line to get a donut and coffee. It wasn't much, but she appreciated getting it. Sitting down on one of the cinderblocks, Tin Tom asked, "You leaving today?" "Ya, my daddy is coming to pick me up," answered Sally. Tin Tom was silent for a while as he ate his donut and drank his coffee. Not looking at her, he said, "Maybe you'll go to college and study ways to help the mentally ill get off the streets. Unlike Harry and me, they don't really want to be homeless." "I will," she replied. She saw her father's car coming down the road. She finished her donut and drank her coffee. Turning to the Roach Coach, she saw that Harry was getting out of the back. She said, "My daddy is here. I'm gonna have to go." "Remember us, Princess." Her father got out of the car and looked around at the Homeless Hotel. Some of the late risers were only now crawling out of the sections of sewer pipes. The guy with no teeth was rinsing his dentures out under the water tap. He gave Sally a toothless grin and then leaned back as he laughed. Sally pulled her lips over her teeth and gave him a toothless grin in return. She looked over at her father noticing that he had witnessed the exchange. It was easy to see that he was angered by the surroundings in which he had found his daughter. His anger abated when he saw the Druid approaching him with a smile on his face. Sally beat Harry to her father's side and apologized, "Hello, Daddy. I'm sorry that I left home." In a voice that combined anger, worry, relief, and concern, her father said, "You have no idea..." Harry interrupted the lecture when he said, "She's learned some important lessons the last few days. Some lessons in life don't need to be taught twice. Let her be." Sally smiled as her father stared at the man who had just told him to drop the lecture. The robe and the medallion around his neck identified him as a Druid. Then he realized that he had no idea what had happened over the past five days. Who knew what she learned or what she had been through? Instead of pursuing the topic, he dropped it. He replied, "You're probably right." Leaning over to the Druid, she gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Stepping back to her father's side, Sally said, "See you around, Happy Harry." "Take care, Princess." Sally got into the car and waited for her father. He took a minute to look around at his surroundings before he returned to the car. Not knowing what to say, he said nothing as he turned on the car. Turning the wheel, he said, "We'll talk when you're ready to talk." As he drove out of the homeless hotel, Sally asked, "Do you know what a Gandy Dancer is?" ------- The End ------- Posted: 2004-10-18 ------- http://storiesonline.net/ -------