by Aven Jayce
“Listen...” I squint, watching Quinn step off the trail into a stretch of dense trees. I check the time on my cell, needing to give them an exact plan or I’ll never get off the phone.
“Addie.” Nadine’s back, sounding sympathetic and setting her anger aside... at least for the moment. “I’m going to say something and I’m sorry if it hurts your feelings.”
“Well duh, then don’t say it.”
“Listen to me. You can’t bring her back.”
My feet become heavy. I look around, feeling a warm flush throughout my body, becoming disoriented when a woman my mom’s age pedals by on a bike. I follow her with blinking eyes and hold in my tears, then look back to where Quinn disappeared into the woods to think about the situation.
“Get off the trail and come home.”
“That’s not... this isn’t about my mom. This isn’t... oh my God.” I drag my hand down my face, pulling my cheeks with my thumb and index finger. “Why did you have to say that?”
“You’re trying to help a person who may not even need to be helped.”
“You’re wrong and you’re reaching. So fucking wrong. I’ll be home in two hours...” I turn off my cell and stare at the trees, taking a deep breath before pushing forward, following him into the woods.
He left a trail of breadcrumbs, literally. I’m twenty feet in and a homeless woman’s sitting on the ground beside a tent, eating a bagel. I nod and quickly walk by.
And down a ways—a young couple are ripping apart a loaf of bread. I say hello, getting no response until I’m ten feet past.
“Hey,” the woman says. “You lost?”
Heedful, I reach into my handbag to find the spray... just in case.
“You know somebody down that way? Cuz if you don’t, you better get the fuck outta here.”
I walk faster, wishing I had worn my hoodie. Hoodies are an easy way to come across as being tougher than you really are. A quick covering with the hood disguises your face. Lucky me... instead, I’m in stylish shorts, flaunting clean-shaven legs and a gold ankle bracelet. And with my thin white blouse and my heart necklace, I bet I come across as a coddled college brat as opposed to having street smarts.
I’m not scared though, nervous maybe, but not frightened. There’re enough people around that someone will step in if I get into trouble... I think... I hope.
I walk until the land opens to a narrow field, the opposite side having patches of bushes and trees interwoven with the rocky edge of the river. Tents and tarps dot the area, each dwelling an equal distance from the rest.
An older black man with a long salt and pepper beard, dressed in a ragged pair of faded yellow underwear, spreads his wet clothing over rocks to dry in the evening sun. A middle-aged man’s asleep under a tree, and Quinn’s standing next to one of the tarps, talking to the woman in the raincoat. He hands her what’s left in the bag and she places the food under the temporary shelter, starting to eat while he flips through the papers. His shirt’s off, draped over his shoulder, and the red marks on his back now look like bruises. Roxanne hit him harder than I thought.
“Bitch.” The woman I passed in the woods comes up behind me. “I asked you a fucking question. You know someone down here? Or are you a cop?”
“N-no,” I stutter. “No, I’m not a cop. I know someone.”
“Well, who the fuck is it?”
I glance over at Quinn. The woman he’s with is taking off her raincoat and is much older than I thought—frail, thin, dirty—and when she smiles, her teeth are rotten and brown. Meth mouth. She’s a user.
“Hey.” She pushes me. “I’m fucking talking to you.”
“I’m looking for Quinn,” I say.
“Who the fuck’s Quinn?”
“The guy who gave you the bread.”
“You mean Ellis? Ellis!” she hollers in his direction. “This your bitch?”
He turns, rolling the papers and placing them in his back pocket as he jogs over.
“What are you doing here?” He takes my arm, leading me away from the woman.
“That’s what I asked her. She’s a cop. You let a fucking cop follow you.”
“I’ll take care of this. And no, she’s not a cop. Don’t freak people out by saying that.”
“Well, who the fuck is she then?”
“I said I’d deal with it.”
He hauls me away from the field and into the woods behind the crude homeless camp. We stop alongside a tree, my back convening with the trunk, his hands positioned next to my head, trapping me with heartbroken eyes.
“Why, Adlyn? What are you doing? I can’t believe you followed me.” He exhales a long breath and lowers his arms, looking back at the tarps while pulling in his bottom lip with his teeth.
“I’ve got pepper spray,” I whisper.
“And they have knives. There’re a lot of crazy bastards out this way. You’re lucky you didn’t get hurt.”
“What about you? You’ve came out here to give them food, aren’t you worried?”
He sighs, crossing his arms. I mimic him and cross mine, ready to talk this through.
“Tell me what you want. Why’d you follow me?”
“Because, I needed to understand what the hell happened to you, that’s why. I don’t like unanswered questions. You took off with a woman and I saw you dumpster diving. You’re feeding trash to the homeless.”
“I’m not here to feed them. I’m one of them!”
My mouth parts.
Defeat and shame overtake his body.
His lips narrow and his shoulders are low like they were when Roxanne interrupted us in the pool.
“I’m homeless.”
I lower my head, unsure what to say.
“I have nothing to offer you. I already told you that.” He places a finger under my chin and raises my head. “I wasn’t worried about any of this when we were at Afterglow. I could bring you a plate of food or a bottle of wine and treat you like a queen when we were there. I had a private place to go and a cot... it wasn’t much, but it was something. It wasn’t humiliating, like this. Here, I can’t take you out to dinner or a movie, or back to my apartment to make out in a bed after a date. And we can’t take a road trip or spend the day shopping like normal people do. Or have any long-term plans. None of that exists where I live.”
“A relationship isn’t about money and material things.”
“That’s unrealistic.” He points toward the shelters. “This is a different world from yours.”
“Show me.”
“What? Hell, no. I’m walking you back to your car. You’re going home.”
“Look at me,” I say with compassion and a light touch on his arm. “I’m not shallow. If you think this changes the attraction from my end, you’re wrong. I had to leave behind my entire life last year to start over after my mom was murdered. I’m still starting over. I sleep in one of my aunt and uncle’s spare bedrooms, I drink myself to sleep every night, and I feel completely displaced.”
“Adlyn—”
“My mom wasn’t rich. We barely got by from month-to-month. I’ve got thirty grand in an account that’s been set up for my education from the sale of her house and car, and that will be gone in two years. That means my aunt and uncle will have to pay for my final year of school, or I’ll need to take out loans and work. I will work. I did my freshman year, but right now I’m just getting back to feeling strong enough to get out there and live again. This...” I nod toward his home. “This shouldn’t stop you from being with me, especially since I’m interested in you, no matter if you’re rich or poor. I shouldn’t be pushed away for such a trivial reason.”
He’s still drawing in his bottom lip.
“And living here doesn’t mean you’re not respected or that you don’t have much to offer... how about affection? Jesus, a conversation and your touch are what I want, not a fucking tub of popcorn and a seat in a movie theater. You can’t even talk during a movie.
What kind of a date is that?” My words are quick and target what I want, stressing his mistake in walking away from me. “Kindness and compassion. That’s important to me... seeing you handing out food to everyone made me fall for you harder than some showy, arrogant asshole in a flashy sports car ever would. And another thing—”
He discharges like a strike of lightning, rushing forward to cradle my face in his hands, pressing his lips to mine with a heated breath as his soft tongue sweeps inside my mouth. His body surges... his dick begs... teasing for a fuck with a rub against my pussy, causing the hairs on my arms to stand on end.
“God, you’re amazing,” he says, fixated on my eyes. “You serious about this?”
I look up, viewing the lush leaves shadowing our play while he nips the length of my neck.
“Would you really give me a chance?”
My hands run down his chest to his jeans. The caress developing into a firm hug, answering his question.
A tender moan frees itself from deep inside his throat, sounding like a mix of desire and relief.
“Well, I didn’t follow you just to get one of those bagels.”
He smiles and looks over his shoulder, toward an isolated tent some twenty feet past the others. “That’s mine. You wanna see it?”
I nod and follow him to the farthest edge of the tree line, close to the river and past a group of old poplar trees. He unzips the front and I kneel on the rocky ground beside him. The tent’s new and a few possessions are inside—a sleeping bag, backpack, clothing, a pillow, towel, and toiletries. It’s also blazing hot and has an all too recognizable scent of plastic.
“So you had some money to get all this?” I ask.
He crawls in, putting the applications next to his backpack. “Yeah. I’ve done this before. I know where to go, how much to spend, what I can get for free... and I know it’s important to have a plan and to stick to it. Without one, you won’t survive. Food’s first, then shelter, then work.”
I crawl next to him and zip the door closed.
“There’s a grocery store that tosses old fruit and vegetables, and two cafes that dump their ‘day-olds.’ It’s all safe to eat... and when you’re hungry, you will eat what you can find. The trick is to be there at the right time or you’ll miss out.”
His breath is sweet, like an orange, and his skin smells like the rind. I bet that’s what he ate for dinner.
“The tent was cheap. But I’ve only got a hundred bucks left of my massage tips, so I need to find work, fast. I’m hoping the haircut and new shirt will help... I’ll find out tomorrow morning when I head out.”
“Where?”
“Tivoli Park. People hang out there and wait for jobs. It’s mostly roofing, but sometimes drywall or landscaping. For a week’s work I might end up with two or three hundred, cash. It’s all under the table. And the applications,” he taps the papers, “without an address or a phone number they’re pointless. I got them because filling them out gives me hope... a feeling that I’m at least trying to fix this situation. You know?”
“Fuck, Quinn. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, it’s not new to me. I’ve been homeless since I was eighteen.”
I shake my head, wondering how I can help.
“It’s bearable until winter comes, then life will be hell until spring.”
“You’re out here when it snows?”
“I stay at the homeless shelter or a church when it’s below twenty degrees. And if those places are full and I’m desperate, I’ll break into my dad’s garage or his basement, but I hate being there. He’s a real prick. I went to his house yesterday to find some bedding and ended up with this.” He motions to the mark on his face. “It’s why I left in the first place. Same reason my mom left when I was a kid.”
“It’s so sad you have to deal with all this,” I whisper.
He looks down as we talk, twisting my ankle bracelet between two fingers, still feeling ashamed
“When we moved from Schenectady to Albany, my dad just got worse... more abusive, even toward the women he’d bring home. I think my mom leaving pissed him off so much that he takes his anger for her out on other women. He tosses them out of the house when he’s finished fucking them. Acts sweet to get them in bed, then becomes a bastard when he’s done. That’s how I ended up on the streets. I couldn’t handle being around him anymore.”
“That’s gotta be really hard... do you ever hear from your mom?”
“No... never.” He pauses and looks up. “I shouldn’t waste our time together talking about my family.” He spreads the sleeping bag and I sit on top. “By the way, you look fucking gorgeous.”
I blush and face him cross-legged with my hands on his knees while we hang out.
“So Roxanne picks up homeless people to work for her?”
“Yeah.”
“Seriously? All those employees were homeless?”
“That’s right.”
“Whoa. Wait ‘til I tell Nadine and Brian. Does she come down here? To this spot?”
“I don’t think she knows about this camp. When we met, I was sleeping on a bench in Washington Park. The cops had cleared us out from down here and I didn’t have any other place to go. Some people went to Tivoli Park and there’s another camp in the woods behind the homeless shelter, except both of those have a rougher crowd—guys hiding out from the cops, a heavier drug scene, and a lot of fistfights.”
“What about staying at the shelter?”
“I’d rather be outdoors than in a room with twenty other people. A small amount of privacy is better than no privacy. And when I see the families who are there, the ones that have kids, they need a bed more than me. I can tough it out, an eight-year-old can’t. But I do use the homeless center to shower each day, and I can do laundry and have a locker for free, so that helps.”
I look at his stuff spread around the tent and back to the red mark under his eye. “How’d Roxanne get you to go with her? You don’t seem the type to be conned into a situation you don’t want to be in.”
“She walked up to Tyler and me one day in the park and asked if we wanted to fuck for food and beer.”
“What?”
“Not kidding.” His jaw clenches. “She’s pretty forward. And the whole deal sounded shitty... I didn’t want to break my number one rule out here. I said I’d never sell my body in order to survive the streets. No matter how desperate, I don’t wanna use my dick for food and warmth.”
“I can’t believe Roxanne. She’s so fucking creepy.”
“Yep. And she doesn’t fuck around. Of course Tyler was all in. He couldn’t wait to go, but she insisted we come together. In the end, she said I could work my way up, starting with the massages... only I had no intention of working my way up... or in her. Not my thing.”
“The bait was beer and food? That’s all it took?”
“You’d understand if you were out here for years. I was getting tired of eating the same scraps of food each day and sleeping with a knife in my hand. Work was scarce at the time and I kept missing out on the food being tossed. I went to the shelter a few times to eat, but ended up feeling the same way I do about the beds... I’d rather see the little kids eat than me. They should come first.” His forehead creases from the memory. “I had a bad two weeks and I wanted out. I go through slumps on the streets and she showed up during one of those times. I was definitely cautious, even without having to agree to the sex... it was Tyler who gave me the final push into her car.”
“So she’s coming back? To Albany?”
“Yeah. She’ll be back. She does a drop and a pick up every few months. Guys out here will jump at the chance to go with her. It’s like winning the lottery to someone on the streets. You don’t get paid except for tips, but you get to live in a classy retreat, out of the weather and safe from freezing temperatures, eat great food and drink all the alcohol you want, and in return, all you have to do is fuck.”
He tosses his
shirt in the corner and leans forward to reacquaint our lips.
“But my cock isn’t for everyone,” he whispers.
I undo the top two buttons of my blouse, flapping the fabric to cool down. Not just from his words—the tent feels like a sauna—an easy ninety degrees inside.
He frees me from another button, and another, down my shirt until the front’s open.
“Better?” He swallows hard.
“Yes.”
His hands glide under my blouse, pushing it back until the fabric falls away from my body.
“Gorgeous.” He looks behind to make sure the tent’s zipped before imparting a kiss. His fingers possess my chin, locking my mouth to his before unleashing a shy smile.
“I’m really falling for you,” I whisper.
“Just make sure it’s not because you feel sorry for me.”
“It’s not.”
I unbutton his jeans and unzip the front, helping him slide them off so he’s more comfortable in the heat.
“Who’s the woman in the raincoat?” I stroke his legs, making contact with his scars.
“Connie. She’s been on the streets for years.”
“It’s nice that you gave her food, even though she flipped me off.”
“Yeah, I don’t know why she does that to people.”
His fingers trickle up my back, stopping to remove my bra before guiding me onto his lap. I wrap my legs around his waist as he kisses my tits and works to take off my shorts. He unzips the front enough to reach my clit.
“Fuck.” He looks down. “Lace? Fucking lace.”
“Yeah, I thought maybe... well, I didn’t think here, like this, but somewhere.”
His breathing’s heavier, kissing me harder, fiercer, pressing his stiff dick against my ass.
“Can you stay quiet?” he asks. “Not a sound if you cum?”
“Can you?” I reach down, my fingers sticky from the pre-cum on his tip. I rub it over his crown and bring some up for a taste.
“Jesus.” His mouth opens, gazing at my finger lick. “That’s fucking sexy.”
He wraps his arms around me and lays me on the sleeping bag. We kiss and hurry out of the rest of our clothes. His socks are tossed into the corner and my shorts and underwear follow soon after. The temperature of our skin rises fast, causing us to sweat as we press into each other, kissing madly in the sweltering tent.
