Street Smarts & Stolen Hearts

by Rob Hunter

  “Right. I’m Edwin,” he replied, stretching his hand across the table in greeting. Daveth looked at it for a moment, before tentatively returning the handshake, smiling shyly.

  “I better get back to work,” Solomon said, excusing himself from the conversation.

  Edwin would probably make Daveth feel a bit more comfortable. He wasn’t exactly sure what to think of the British man, but he supposed that if Adam and Roy liked him, then he could put up with his presence. Besides, it was kind of his job to help people like Daveth out, so it wasn’t like he could turn him away even if he wanted to.

  Solomon jerked away, cursing as Adam’s hand clamped down on his shoulder. The younger man laughed, not releasing his grip as he turned to glare at him.

  “Don’t sneak up on me,” he grumbled.

  Adam grinned, dropping his hands back to his side.

  “I didn’t sneak up. You’re just jumpy.”

  “Whatever.”

  “So, Daveth tried to pickpocket you?” Adam said, face oddly serious.

  Solomon ran a hand through his hair, nodding.

  “Don’t judge him too harshly for it. He’s a good guy. Just really far out of his depth,” Adam insisted.

  “I’m not judging him for it. It was still probably better than the way we first met,” he pointed out.

  Adam snorted, but didn’t argue. It was true after all. “You and Roy don’t usually hang out with others?”

  “Daveth’s alright. Beside, someone has to be on his side,” Adam replied, pulling a face.

  Solomon tilted his head.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know really. I just know he’s new to this whole thing. When we met him, he hadn’t eaten in days, was pretty badly dehydrated and didn’t even have a sleeping bag,” Adam explained. “I think he’s running from something.”

  “What, like he’s a criminal?”

  “Nah, nothing like that,” Adam said, shaking his head. “I think more like he got involved with some bad people, if you get my drift.”

  Solomon signed in response. It made sense. There were lots of people like that who came to the shelter; most of them moved on pretty quickly though, to be honest. Usually because they didn’t want to stay in one place too long. He brushed his hand over his stubble that was quickly starting to grow into a beard.

  “I don’t know if I’ll be able to offer much help. You know how much our hands are tied at the moment,” he pointed out.

  Adam frowned, but he didn’t look overly surprised.

  “No worries. I get ya. I’m just saying, be patient with him. He’s actually quite funny if you give him the chance,” Adam said, a trace of fondness in his voice.

  Solomon ran his tongue over his lips, eyes darting back to where Daveth was. He was still sitting at the table, currently enthralled in a conversation with Edwin and Roy.

  “Anyway, I’m going to go claim my bed. I’ll see ya around.”

  “Yeah, see ya, buddy,” Solomon replied, watching with a strange sinking of his heart as Adam walked away. Outside, he heard the wind roar and the rain pound against the window shutters. He was thankful that he had saved the beds. He didn’t like the idea of Adam or Roy sleeping outside in this weather. He supposed that he didn’t like the idea of Daveth sleeping outside either.

  Daveth shifted on the bed, tugging the thin blanket further up his fully clothed body, resting his arm underneath the pillow to try and give it some height. The lights had been dimmed, but there was still a rabble of noise. Every movement made the worn springs of the beds creak loudly, and there were still those who had yet to retire to bed, or simply couldn’t sleep and were pacing restlessly, some occasionally yelling out, others engaged in heated conversations in low, careful tones.

  At least it was warm.

  He sighed, turning onto his other side as the hard bed dug into his ribs and made them ache. It was better than lying on concrete, but not by much. He strained his eyes in the darkness, trying to make out Adam sleeping in the bed next to him. At least the other man was managing to sleep; he didn’t look peaceful as such, but the bags under his eyes were slightly less defined, and there was a softness to his face that restored his youth.

  He turned his gaze elsewhere, trying to seek Roy out but the bed was still unoccupied. He burrowed his head further into the pillow, trying to force his eyes shut. Roy had said that he wanted to talk to Edwin for a bit, but that had been at least an hour ago. It made him anxious as he turned onto his back and stared up at the ceiling, mulling over his thoughts.

  He sighed, shuffling into a sitting position, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders as his gaze travelled listlessly around the shelter. No one paid him any mind. He wished that he still had his phone. Not that it mattered, to be honest. He’d forgotten to bring the charger in the first place, so he wouldn’t have been able to use it anyway.

  He massaged his temples, before reluctantly getting out of bed. Even with his socks on, he hissed at the sudden coldness of the floor. He thought about leaving his shoes tucked under the bed, but he remembered Adam’s warnings, and so he slipped them on, albeit bending the back of the heel, not bothering to undo the laces. He should probably get out of that habit. Chances were that these shoes would have to last him a while.

  He crept past Adam, not wanting to wake the other man as he carefully made his way through the maze of beds. His mum had always said that if you couldn’t sleep, it was always best to get up and go for a little walk around until you felt like you could actual doze off. He felt somewhat homesick at the thought, but he pushed it to the back of his mind.

  Maybe he could find somewhere to get a drink of water. He was certain that Roy had mentioned there was a water fountain somewhere in the shelter. But he wasn’t sure whether it would still be accessible at this time.

  He walked aimlessly down a hallway, which he thought led back to the canteen. The shelter strangely reminded him of a hospital. There was a clinical, impersonal feel to the place and lingering antiseptic smell. Something that was simply off-putting, that made this place anything but a home.

  Solomon turned the corner and Daveth hesitated, but he was noticed immediately. The uneasy feeling of Solomon’s eyes assessing him as he approached made his heart race, but he noted that he looked incredibly tired himself. He wondered whether Solomon always worked the night shift.

  “Are you okay?” Solomon asked, his voice slightly sarcastic.

  Daveth looked at him a moment before his gaze darted back down to the floor.

  “Yeah, just can’t sleep,” he replied with a shrug, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

  Solomon grunted in acknowledgment.

  “Do you know where Roy is?” he added, when Solomon continued to stare at him.

  “He’s with Edwin,” Solomon said quietly.

  Daveth nodded, awkwardness shimmering within him and making his skin crawl uncomfortably.

  “Um, I’m sorry about the whole pickpocketing thing…” he stammered, trying to feel less exposed.

  Solomon sighed.

  “Don’t worry about it. You’re hardly the first to try.” Solomon waved him off. “Seriously though, you okay?”

  Daveth was tempted to just brush him off, to simply shrug and say that everything was fine. But there was something earnest about the way Solomon was speaking. He risked looking up and meeting Solomon’s eyes, and found nothing but compassion and quiet understanding there. He chewed on his lower lip; the part of him that had felt the weight of his loneliness—that so eagerly searched out any sign of genuine kindness—reacted to the older man’s care.

  “Not really,” he replied, rubbing the back of his neck.

  Solomon’s gaze softened, and he relaxed, leaning his back against the wall, seeming content to rest there for an eternity.

  “How long have you been homeless Daveth?” he asked softly. Daveth swallowed heavily, running his tongue across his teeth.

  “Two weeks max,” he answered honestly.

/>   “What happened?”

  “I…uh, I just, I was in a bad situation and I didn’t want to stay in it, but…I didn’t have anywhere else to go,” he replied, feeling stupid and horrendously cliché. He looked away, blinking furiously.

  “Was someone hurting you?” Solomon pressed gently, his hand brushing across Daveth’s shoulder. He melted into the touch.

  “No. Not me,” he replied.

  Solomon raised an eyebrow.

  “My stepfather—” He huffed, brushing his hair to the side. “I think, well, I mean I’m pretty sure he was involved in human trafficking,” he continued, feeling Solomon stiffen beside him. “My mum wouldn’t see it. She loved him, and he tried to hide it from her. But, well, she passed a month ago, and... Suddenly all this black market stuff he was doing became the only thing in his life. There were bloody kidnappers and rapists sitting at my kitchen table.” He grimaced, crossing his arms across his chest. “I called the police. But, well, I’m pretty sure they were crooked cops, because they didn’t do anything, and well, he knew someone had tried to rat, and I was the obvious suspect so I just had to get out of there, you know?”

  He thought there would be relief once he had finally said it out loud. He’d thought getting it off his chest would remove the massive weight that had been haunting him. He hadn’t even told Adam or Roy the full story. He’d thought that it’d be cathartic, but honestly, the words had just left a bitter taste in his mouth.

  “I’m sorry. That sounds hard,” Solomon murmured quietly, his thumb brushing a circle over the sliver of exposed skin on Daveth’s shoulder. He snorted in agreement. “Do you have a plan on what to do now?”

  Daveth shook his head.

  “I thought of trying to go back to England. I have some extended family there. But my bank account had been emptied somehow…I’m pretty sure he took what little savings I had.” He shrugged. Really, England had been his last alternative. He’d never really talked to his extended family, and he was pretty sure some of them were also working on the wrong side of the law. They might not even care to have him in their house. They hadn’t exactly tried to make contact after his mother passed.

  “Have you tried contacting the police again?”

  “No. I don’t think there’s much point. He’s probably expecting that. Beforehand I thought it was petty crime, or at least crime that wasn’t well organized, but I’m starting to think he’s untouchable. At least, at the moment,” he answered. It sounded akin to a conspiracy theory, but he’d already faced the wrath of his stepfather once, he didn’t want to push his luck a second time. It was probably a small mercy that his stepfather hadn’t ordered him killed.

  “I had a cousin who was involved with crime and shit. He was never caught. Not properly. It was some random guy who gunned him down in the end. I guess most cops just let this sort of thing slide as long as their getting enough bribes and it’s out of the public eye.”

  “Yeah, I guess.” He nodded, his eyes narrowing slightly.

  Solomon wrapped his arm around Daveth’s shoulders, pulling him close. He spluttered, but did not attempt to fight back as Solomon giggled at the noises he was making. Solomon’s laugh was infectious, and Daveth found a few wheezes escaping him as well.

  “Do you not have a sleeping bag?” Solomon asked, brushing his knuckles across Daveth’s scalp, ignoring the squeak of panic as he futilely tried to scramble out of Solomon’s tight grip.

  “No, I’ve been sharing Roy’s,” he answered, through gasps as Solomon continued to playfully wrestle with him.

  “Come with me then,” Solomon said with a determined nod, grabbing him in a headlock and leading him forward.

  “Do I even have a choice?” he squeaked, flailing his arms.

  Solomon grinned.

  Solomon eventually loosened his grip as they reached a door. He pulled a key out from where it hung concealed around his neck, unlocked the door and entered the darkened storage cupboard. Daveth stood to the side, peering in curiously as he listened to Solomon scramble about and bump into things. After a couple of moments, he re-emerged with a pretty beaten and worn rucksack, and a crumpled sleeping bag alongside a plastic bag filled with toiletries.

  Daveth never thought he’d see the day where he’d be ecstatic over seeing a toothbrush.

  “You should absolutely take this as a sign that I think you stink,” Solomon mocked, passing over the toiletry bag, which alongside the toothbrush, also contained toothpaste, a roll of deodorant, a spare pair of socks, some body-wash and a couple of razors.

  “Jesus, it’s like a kid on Christmas,” Solomon mused, grinning as Daveth fumbled with the rucksack and sleeping bag, his eyes bright for probably the first time in days.

  “Thank you!” he said, almost forgetting in his excitement. God, he was ridiculous. He’d been homeless for two weeks and already he was like a desolate child in a charity ad, but either way, he finally had some belongings to call his own.

  “No problem, buddy,” Solomon blurted as he turned around to lock the door again. From further up the hallway, back in the direction Daveth had come, there was a sudden burst of commotion. Solomon perked his head up with a sigh.

  “I better go see what’s going on. Try and see if we can get some sleep,” Solomon advised, swinging the key chain back around his neck as he marched off down the hallway. “Oh, and word to the wise, no more pickpocketing, okay?” he called back teasingly.

  Daveth huffed, watching him go with a fond smile.

  Edwin watched Roy stalk around the small office, the creases of worry clearly defined in his expression. He sighed, fiddling with a pen as he leaned over his desk, giving the younger man space to sort out his thoughts.

  “It’s stupid,” Roy muttered, more to himself than to Edwin.

  “It’s not stupid if it has you worried,” he responded calmly.

  Roy huffed, rubbing a hand over tired eyes.

  “I live on the streets, everything has me worried,” Roy grumbled, flopping back into the seat. The office was usually reserved for meetings with volunteers or visitors, or occasionally when more serious advice was needed for any of the homeless that used the shelter. It gave it a very unused, uninviting feel, but it was the only place they could hope to get any privacy.

  “You’re not the only one that has been mentioning things like this. Lots of people are concerned,” Edwin pointed out.

  “It’s just…what are we meant to do?” Roy exclaimed, gesticulating wildly. “It’s not like we can go to the police, they don’t give a fuck.”

  “That’s not always true.”

  “Oh, don’t do your advisor voice on me, Edwin. You know it’s true,” Roy said sharply. Edwin pursed his lips, but remained silent.

  “There’s two gangs basically having war with each other, and bringing everyone else into the conflict. Normally, I’d just leave the area, except they keep expanding their territory, and Adam refuses to go anywhere, so what are we meant to do? Wait to be stabbed?”

  “What are they actually doing?”

  “The usual gang shit; they’re basically fucking over everyone, keep hounding people for protection money, even though we’re fucking homeless so of course we don’t have it. Keep trying to recruit people, keep pumping guns and shit into the street, keep just beating the shit out of people just because they can,” Roy hissed.

  It had been a long time since Edwin had seen the younger man so agitated.

  “I’ll talk to Emerson. Surely he can do something,” he suggested desperately.

  Roy huffed, unconvinced.

  Edwin didn’t blame him. Their little shelter was basically ignored by the authorities; it was a stain on society that reminded them of everyone that had fallen through the safety nets. No one was interested in helping them out. Even volunteers were dwindling now that the holiday season was more or less over. And donations were non-existent. They’d be lucky to still be up and running in six months, let alone actually manage to get the authorities to take action on the ga
ngs harassing the city. It was basically expected here, so why bother trying to make it better?

  “So, have you made a move on Solomon yet?” Roy abruptly changed the subject, looking up at him with a shit-eating grin and no trace of his previous frustration.

  “Shut up,” Edwin grumbled.

  Roy’s grin widened.

  “Seriously, dude, at least try to woo him or something,” Roy said, kicking his legs up onto the table as he leaned back in his seat.

  Edwin glowered at him.

  “I can’t believe I ever told you that.” Edwin sighed, brushing a hand through his beard. “It’s just a stupid crush.”

  “Aw, buddy, come on, you never know until you try.” Roy leaned forward.

  Edwin huffed.

  “Let’s just drop it,” Edwin muttered, refusing to meet Roy’s eyes. He’d only ever told Roy because…well, because he had been drunk and upset, and Solomon had brought a woman over to their apartment, so Edwin had decided to make himself scarce and that meant wandering up and down empty streets until he found a familiar face.

  “You know, I think Solomon would say yes,” Roy murmured quietly.

  Edwin snorted, shaking his head, a flicker of hopelessness engulfing his chest.

  “Maybe you should try to make a move on Adam,” he retorted, perhaps sharper than was strictly necessary.

  Roy’s expression hardened, a glint of warning flashing in his eyes for a moment.

  “That’s completely different,” Roy said, dropping his feet back onto the floor. “Besides, I’m not even into him like that,” he added after a moment.

  “So, uh…Daveth?” he started after an awkward lapse into silence. Roy leaned back into his seat, a thoughtful expression gracing his face.

  “Yeah…”

  “What’s different about him?” Edwin questioned. Daveth was hardly the first newbie to the streets that was out of his depth; Roy and Adam didn’t usually go out of their way to introduce others like that into their tight-knit group.

  “Nothing really. I don’t know, he’s just friendly I guess.” Roy shrugged. “Reminds me of a lost puppy. Seems kind of eager to have others around him.” Roy smiled fondly.