Lost & Found - 2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The cab crawled behind a large excavator, engulfed in a cloud of dust. When he wasn't cursing and slapping the wheel, the driver negotiated his way through our city leader’s latest cleanup project. Buildings with broken windows and graffiti would soon become upmarket condominiums, loft apartments, shops and restaurants - if I believed all those brightly colored sales hoardings around me.

In an attempt to re-urbanize the industrial park, the city had sold property for a nominal price. Nonprofit organizations like Elijah’s Way, artists, and people with motivation but little money had grabbed the opportunity. When that didn’t work as well as they expected, the mayor called in developers.

‘Brownfield land on the brink of new life’ was the slogan, and who wouldn’t want one of those artsy warehouse districts for their city? Dilapidated remnants of a changing economy full of homeless people, druggies, and soup kitchens could ruin a city’s reputation.

Right.

But I hadn’t come to comment on a questionable project. I was here because I wanted to pay Beckett Miller a surprise visit. Which wasn’t nice. I knew that. Danny would have called it rude. Only I wasn’t a nice man when it came to business. I wanted to see how they worked when they weren't expecting a potential donor.

So, rude… maybe, but I had lost my ‘mellow’ three years ago.

The cab slowed down in front of a two-story, brick building, and I saw ‘Elijah’s Way’ sprayed in light gray on a dark purple metal sliding door. Several men sat on the old loading ramp, legs dangling over the rusty edge. They watched the cab curiously, and when I got out their dogs started to bark.

What’s that? Bring your pet to work day?

I climbed the worn concrete steps, glad I had chosen simple clothes. Casually nodding at a few of them, I headed straight for the door. Then one of them called after me, “Hey, buddy, you have to wait outside, like the rest of us!”

Before I could ask what he meant, another man was answering him already, “You see a dog, Carson? Something wrong with your eyes?”

“No, but maybe he has one of them squirrel things.”

“You mean a ferret?”

“Whatever, wiseass. Carmen said to wait outside until she comes and puts everyone on her list. I’m just saying…”

I ignored their squabbling and slipped through the partially open door, but a woman stopped me immediately. “Can I help you?” She was giving out strong lioness-protecting-her-cubs-from-predators vibes and I extended my hand, trying for a reassuring smile. “I’m Morgan St. John. I’d like to talk to Beckett Miller and maybe take a look around the house, if that’s possible.”

She looked briefly at my hand, before grasping it and shaking it firmly. “We’re not exactly known as a sight-seeing attraction around here.”

She was good. Still, I was annoyed. “I met Walter Montgomery a few days ago at a charity function. He told me good things about Elijah’s Way and suggested I come here and talk to Beckett Miller since I was curious.”

“I see.” She tapped a pen against the edge of her clipboard. “Beckett is in a phone meeting, and it will take him a while. I don’t have the time to show you around either. We have the vet here today, and I have my plate full with sorting out the guys outside and answering the phone.” She pointed at her headset. “Maybe you can come back another day.”

This wasn’t going to plan. Those reasons sounded like excuses, and I couldn’t shake the feeling she wanted to get rid of me. What was her problem? Even if Miller was busy, it wouldn’t hurt anybody to let me look around a little, would it? The thought I could have been right with my suspicions disappointed me. I had been looking forward to supporting the foundation. Maybe this was all a misunderstanding. “Carmen, might I make a suggestion? You could call Walter now – the call you would have made the minute I walked out that door. After he confirms my good intentions, you let me walk around a little.” I took in a calming breath. “As I already explained to Walter, I prefer donating to small, local charities instead of big organizations. I hate it when I’m just fueling administrations, instead of the people who really need the help. Therefore, I’d like to get to know you, so I can see where my money goes.”

She ran a hand through her hair, making the blonde bun even messier than it was, before smiling sheepishly. “Look, I’ll call him, and if he confirms what you just told me, I’ll see what I can do. How’s that?”

I don’t know why I felt that irritated with her. I thought I was being polite enough. When Carmen came back a few minutes later, she was decidedly more relaxed and had a genuine smile on her face. “Walter said it’s okay.” She sighed. “I’m sorry, Mr. St. John. It’s just… We’ve had all kinds of strange people coming here lately. It’s my job to ask questions and protect us. Some journalist wrote a story about a depressed actor, who, as it turned out later, actually had been living here for a while. Beck almost beheaded me when he learned I had let her wander around without checking her ID and intentions. There are also thugs who think they can swipe the doc’s drug stash, developers who send their attorneys because they want to buy the property… Whatever.”

She obviously had good reasons to stop me. I still thought she could have been more complaisant. I also freely admit I had been in a foul mood.

Carmen turned around searchingly, until her gaze fell on a kid stuffing his laundry into a washer. “Kinney! No meditation in front of the washer today! I have a job for you. Come over and show Mr. St. John—”

“Morgan, please.

“Show Morgan here around, will you?”

The kid mock-saluted, then shut the washer with a loud thwack. “As you wish, my lady Carmen.” But instead of coming over, he took a bandana from his laundry basket and knotted it around the end of a broomstick. Lifting it up over his head, he then exclaimed, “Follow me to the sights!”

Carmen rolled her eyes, and gave me a slight push in Kinney’s direction. “Go ahead. He’s harmless.”

When I turned to him, Kinney cleared his throat, and waved one hand around in a grand gesture. “This place was a warehouse once, obviously. The owners went bankrupt — rumors say the mafia was involved.”

“The mafia? Here? In this city?”

He looked at me with a ‘duh’ expression on his face. “La famiglia is everywhere. Didn’t you know that?”

“Uh…”

“Anyway, it didn’t take long, and the first homeless people came to live here. The blood from some shooting was still fresh.”

“Umm…”

“But karma wasn’t done yet. One day a girl OD’d, though some said it was murder. After that, the police had an eye on the place. They raided the house frequently.”

“This is terrible!”

“I can show you the place where she died. She was only fourteen.”

“No, thank you! This really is not necessary.” How could he think I would be interested in something like that?

“Suit yourself.” He shrugged. “Remember me saying something about bad karma?”

“There’s more?”

“A few weeks later, social services suspected the runaway son of some big-ass lawyer was hiding among the homeless. Of course, they took the opportunity for a big clean up. When people saw all the police cars, the weapons and the uniforms, they panicked and tried to run away. Chaos ensued, and one of us was shot, because he tried to help a woman pack up her stuff. The bundle he didn’t want to let go of, despite the police urging him to, was the woman’s two-month-old baby. Jeff died on the way to the hospital. He was a drifter.”

“Bad karma indeed.” I was shocked. “How could they want this house for Elijah’s Way?”

“Elijah lived here for a short time. When Walter Montgomery was looking for a place and heard Jeff’s story, he chose this building in memory of Jeff and to turn bad into something good.” He grinned at me. “Cool story, huh?”

“Uh…”

“…and a total hoax.” Kinney laughed so hard, he almost hit me in the face with his broomstick. “I am going to be a writer. I love making up stories and watching people’s reactions. Yours was priceless.”

I felt dumb and was about to rip into him for putting me on, when I saw his face. He was so pleased with himself — a mischievous puppy — I couldn’t be angry with him any longer. But he didn’t have to know that.

“Don’t do that again. I hate being lied to. That wasn’t funny.”

He lifted his hands in surrender, then pointed at the washers and driers lined up at the wall. “Beck got those for free when the laundry shop across from his old place closed.”

I raised my eyebrow in doubt, and Kinney pressed his right hand against his chest, roughly where his heart was. “No, really. I didn’t make that one up, honestly. Beck always has his eyes and ears open for things we could use here. You should have seen him when he came here one day, his truck full of plants. Someone had thrown them out, and he grabbed them before they got burned.”

“Plants? Where do you need plants?”

“I’ll show you later.”

We had rounded a wall and stood in between mismatched tables and chairs, some with dated computers on top. Kinney greeted the two men who were tapping away on keyboards. “This is another example of Beck’s scavenger bouts. He saved these from the junkyard.” He ran his finger along the edge of a stained, grey computer screen. “Now we can check bus schedules, jobs, contact family, friends - if we still have those, that is.”

He turned abruptly and pointed at a closed door. “That’s Doc Knowles examination room. He’s a GP and comes two times a week. Nice guy. He even used to look at the dogs sometimes, before they had a vet volunteering his time too.”

“You have a doc for the humans and one for the animals?”

“Yes, and a social worker. Beck said he wants to look for a psychologist next.” Kinney knocked against the heavy metal door of the examination room. “See that? They had to put this door in, because it got broken in again and again.”

I heard one of the dogs outside barking and I asked, “Do you have a dog, Kinney?”

He shook his head. “No, not anymore.” He rubbed his forearms absentmindedly, and I thought I saw him blinking away tears. “She was killed after she protected me from getting bashed not far from here. My brave girl managed to scare them away before she died in my arms. I always think I should have given her another name.”

“What do you mean?”

“I named her Laika, in memory of the dog the Russians killed when they sent her up into orbit with Sputnik 2 in 1957. Contrary to what they always tell you, she died painfully from overheating and panic, only a few hours after the mission started. I always thought it was wrong what they did to her.”

For a brief moment I wanted to ask him if he was pulling my leg again, but looking at him, I could tell he wasn’t.

The door of the next room stood open, and I saw a trembling dog on a stainless steel treatment table. A blond man carefully touched its belly. “She’s due, Aaron. You’ll have half a dozen puppies any day now.”

An older man came into sight. “Shit, Doc. I need to find us a place, at least until Missy has her babies.” He ruffled the dog’s ears. “Couldn’t resist a stud with a pedigree as long as my arm, could you? Naughty girl.”

“You can’t walk around the city with a litter of puppies, Aaron. You’ll need a safe place for her until they’re old enough to be given away. Or you have to leave her and the babies at the shelter.”

“What? I’d never do that!”

“Good. And after the pups are weaned off, she needs to be spayed. This can’t happen again. She’s too old for this.”

“I could look at one of the squats down on the waterfront maybe. The problem is, I’d need to leave her there so I could go to work and earn the money for her surgery. I’m afraid of what some of the idiots there might do to her.”

“I know it isn’t ideal, Aaron. If it were just me, I wouldn’t take money from you, but my boss won’t give me a room at the clinic for free. He doesn’t understand what I’m doing here. Maybe you should ask Beck if Carmen could look after Missy while you’re working.”

“I’ll ask him. I also need to find a job first.”

Without thinking about it, I took a step closer. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I couldn’t help overhearing you…”

Turning around, the doctor pushed his glasses back up on the bridge of his nose, his hand still resting protectively on the dog’s belly. “You can’t just walk in here. You’ll have to wait outside until it’s your turn. Carmen has the list.”

But my eyes were on the dog; she didn’t seem to mind my interrupting. Missy lifted her head curiously as soon as she heard my voice. I held my hand out for her to sniff. “My, you’re a beauty.” At that she wagged her tail. She understood me perfectly. I stroked her fluffy ears some more, making up my mind, and pulled a card out of my wallet. “Here is my card. I’ll cover the bills for her surgery and everything else that needs to be done.”

Because that was exactly what I wanted to do. I wanted to help where it was needed, directly, and without any bureaucratic delay.

The dog licked my fingers. She wanted my attention back. “You’re an interesting mix. I’ve never seen anything like you before.”

“Missy’s a bit of everything. Definitely Weimeraner and I believe Irish Wolfhound. Very unusual indeed.” The doc turned my card around a few times. Then he lifted it and caught my eyes. “Just like that?”

I nodded. “I’m here to find out where help is needed, so yes, just like that.” I let go of Missy reluctantly. “Do I have to sign something?”

“No, no. I’ll call you,” he looked at my card again, “Mr. St. John. If you haven’t changed your mind by then, we’ll make an appointment; you can come to the clinic and sign the bill.”

“I won’t.” I only noticed what I’d just said, when everyone looked at me funny, so I quickly explained, “Change my mind, I mean.” I was almost out of the door, when Aaron grabbed my arm. “Do you have a dog, Mr. St. John?”

I shook my head. “No. My…”

A dog? Danny always wanted a dog.

I looked at Missy, who was wagging her tail again, her amber eyes so trusting as if she wanted to say, ‘What say you?’. I mumbled, “We never had the time.”

Luckily, Aaron didn’t seem to mind my incoherent rambling. “Take one of hers. It’s the least we can do. You’ll even have first dibs.”

I have a house now. With a backyard. And I don’t travel as much anymore.

“I’ll think about it.” I fled the room as fast as I could, not looking where I was going and promptly ran right into Kinney.

He grabbed my shoulders. “Whoa.”

“Sorry. I wasn’t paying attention.” I shrugged off his hands and walked away as fast as I could.

A dog…

We passed a metal stairway and just to say something, I asked, “So, what’s upstairs?”

Kinney studied me for a short moment, clearly wanting to say something, but then decided to just answer my question. “Two rooms with bunk beds, bathrooms, showers. Nobody stays long here. It’s a safe place where we can catch up on some sleep, get clean, see the doc, and then move on.”

I nodded. My thoughts were all over the place. Suddenly I wanted to make this short and come back another time. I needed to think.

A dog…a companion. Someone to come home to, to take care of.

Then Kinney said, “That was nice of you what you just did for Aaron. It isn’t easy for him to find a job at his age.”

“Hmm…”

“He had just enough money to come here when he noticed Missy wasn’t well. It’s the only place where you can get a vet for free, as far as I know.”

“I wonder if he would stay at one place if he had the money.”

“Aaron? Never. He’ll die on the streets…or maybe in one of Elijah’s houses. He is a wanderer.”

I wanted to go home.

If I train the dog right, I can even take him with me to the office.

We stopped at another room, which was obviously the kitchen. The appliances were old, and the cabinets looked like they had been thrown together from at least three different places. A microwave sat on the counter beside a dented kettle, and a professional coffee machine. Only the two large refrigerators humming to my left met the more industrial setting I had expected for a kitchen in a place like this. “I’d have thought the kitchen would have been bigger.”

“This isn’t a soup kitchen. We don’t need to be fed. We chose this life. Sometimes it’s just nice to make yourself a sandwich with everything on.” Kinney stomped away angrily and it took me a moment to catch up and follow him.

“What did I say wrong?”

He’d vanished behind a metal double door, which opened to the back ramp. Concrete steps led into a huge backyard surrounded by high brick walls covered with cascading ivy. A scruffy lawn with trees scattered about was where I’d expect to find old machinery covered in rust and broken tarmac. Shrubs interspersed the place, and I could make out fire pits, even a few park benches, and a tent.

When I finally reached him, Kinney answered my unasked question. “That’s the plants I told you about. Some men can’t stand walls and roofs. They need to sleep outside all the time. But you can only get a few hours of shut-eye, two, three max, before the police or some security guard tells you to move on. That’s okay, we’re used to it, but sometimes you need a break, and then you can come here. Beck understands this, and one day he brought the plants, paid some of the guys and built this.”

I was impressed. “Is this typical for all the houses belonging to the foundation?”

“No, that’s special and all Beck’s doing.”

This place was even more unusual than Walter Montgomery had let on, and suddenly I needed to get to know the person behind all this.

When we came back inside, a tall man wearing camo pants was pacing in the hallway, shouting into his phone, while gesticulating wildly with his free hand.

“That’s Beck. He’s gay by the way.”

I stopped midstride and stared at Kinney. “What?”

The kid smirked at me. “I just thought I’d throw it out there. In my experience, people talk around shit, pretend to be something they’re not. You want to donate. Maybe you’re a homophobe, though, and then the drama unfolds. Waste of time on both sides. Right?”

The little shit.

“Thanks for the heads-up.” I clapped my hand on the kid’s shoulder. I would be damned if I reacted to that any more than I already had.

By then the shouting had stopped, and I heard heavy footsteps coming our way. “Uh, Beck. That’s Morgan St. John. Carmen told me to show him around a bit.”

“Walter warned me you’d probably show up here without calling first.” Beck held out his hand and I took it. “Didn’t have time to pretty the place up yet.” He winked at me. “Not that we would have.”

“Is that right?” This close he wasn’t as tall as I’d first thought. In fact, he was shorter than I was, which somehow pleased me immensely. “Walter knows me well.”

I looked into ice-blue eyes, and for the first time in three years, I felt a stirring of interest that wasn’t just sexual. It thrilled me, but at the same time, it terrified me.

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