Things We Lost - 3. Chapter 3

The garage was about thirty feet from my hiding place with two large bay doors, both open. The back end of a car stuck out of one bay, and I could see a man bent down by a front wheel. He raised the air gun and the noise sounded again and again before he finally lay the gun down and pulled the wheel from the car.

Needing to pee and wanting to avoid discovery, I picked my way to the front of the van and exited through the passenger door as quietly as I could. The door was stiff but, thankfully, not loud. I stretched and regretted it instantly, but found that my body was unwilling to stop the stretch despite the soreness of my muscles. I glanced around and ducked behind the garage to relieve myself. I needed to find a place to hide for the day, but I had no idea where to do such a thing in suburbia. I walked away from the back of the garage and to the cinder block privacy wall surrounding the back of the lot and, climbing on what might have been an engine once, peeked over the wall.

There was a bit of dense vegetation, and then green lawn with a landscaped yard. Apparently the homeowners didn't like the garage's fence to be seen, which was to my advantage. I scrambled over the fence and dropped into the foliage. I made myself as comfortable as I could, hidden in the bushes, and tried to go back to sleep. Unfortunately, between the periodic noise from the garage and the slow seeping of cold water into my clothes from the recent rain, I was thoroughly uncomfortable.

I got up and brushed myself off a bit and pulled my shirts off. Selecting one from the inner layer, I moved it to the outside. I figured it would help me pass easier in this area as it would be cleaner than the rest, but there wasn't much I could do about only having one shoe. I thought about that for a short time, not liking the feel of the wet socks on my foot and then decided that it would draw less attention if I were barefoot than only having the one shoe.

I didn't expect anyone to find things where I was, not immediately, so I spread the socks out to dry and left my shoe with them. Then I walked a few feet away and readjusted them, pushing them under a bush and entirely out of sight so as to be sure as I could be that they wouldn't be found. I rolled up the bottom of my pant legs, thinking this would look more natural than wearing jeans and nothing on my feet, and I emerged from the foliage to walk across the manicured grass which felt wonderfully cool and damp on my feet.

I drifted to the sidewalk and quickly discovered walking on the edge of the lawns was far more comfortable. Sidewalks had tiny rocks, sometimes bits of glass and other detritus. Lawns, on the other hand, were a soft leafy cushion in comparison, not to mention that the cool of the morning dew felt great against my feet. It took me about twenty minutes to orient myself and head toward the rec center. Smokey having sold me out had shaken me—not as much as his sudden death had, however. Now I had an idea of the stakes I was playing for, especially if Buster was willing to kill to find me. I stumbled for a moment as I felt a wave of sadness hit me for Smokey.

Smokey was your basic, harmless pothead. He did some odd jobs, might have even had an apartment if I remembered right. He had something wrong with him, a disease or something, that made him pretty uncomfortable. He said the pot helped him to be able to do things, like hunt for cans with me. After all, even though finding the cans wasn't brain surgery, it involved a lot of walking, digging and sometimes other acts to get discarded cans and bottles.

I'd always thought of him as an easy going free spirit. I'm sure he was scared when Buster had grabbed him and I didn't really fault him for doing what he'd done—his choices had been limited. But, given my place wasn't safe—and had a dead body in it—I couldn't go back. Emily's wasn't safe and there was that whole weird vibe thing going on there about whatever they intended to tell me about my future. Finally, my bolt hole was compromised as well, with Lenny and his idiots prying off the plywood on the windows and everything. No doubt someone would be around soon to tighten things up and, maybe, fix or board the window I'd used to gain access. So, out of options, I was forced to see what sort of help I might get from Piper.

The sun was high in the sky by the time I stepped off the sidewalk and onto the large grassy lawn that stretched between the town library and the rec center. The entire area was surrounded by trees and I made my way to them to screen me as I approached the building and the groups of kids who were outside playing. Hunkering down, I studied the tableau before me.

There were different groups of kids, and they seemed to be divided by ages. Each group had one or two kids about my age, and these older kids were all wearing the same colored green tee shirt. This was probably their uniform, I thought to myself, and Poirot's oft-used lines about the little gray cells doing their work came back to me, and I smiled. So, I deduced, this was a child care program and Piper would likely be found in a green shirt, somewhere.

I shifted along the tree line, studying the different groups, and came up empty. There was a group of small ones playing in a sandbox with a large girl with red hair watching over them. There was a large group of kids standing around the edge of a parachute, waving it up and down while some ran under it. They had three green shirts with them, but none of them looked like Piper. In fact, the only blonds in sight among the green shirts, were a straw-blond girl and a boy with obviously bleached bangs.

I continued to observe the various groups, hoping that Piper would turn up if I were patient. A boy rode a bike across the lawn, a BMX bike, and came to a halt by the basketball courts. There, after dropping his bike to the grass, he walked up to a green shirt and slapped him on the back. It must have been a fairly hard blow because the green shirt arched his back and frowned at the newcomer. The new guy laughed and took a ball from a nearby child of ten or so and threw it at a hoop, missing wildly. Green shirt said something to him, but new guy seemed not to pay much attention, besides shrugging.

New guy was kind of thin—he had on black skinny jeans, black canvas sneakers and a white shirt that hung rather well on his thin frame, giving him an artsy look...or something. He carried himself with confidence, maybe arrogance, and was sort of nice looking with dark brown hair, long in the front. I glanced at green shirt and did a double take.

I don't know why I hadn't noticed him before. I mean, I was now, but...

He was wearing blue jeans, colorful sneakers and his green tee. Atop his head was a backward ball cap—dark blue, yet faded, with a logo I couldn't see. His jeans and shirt fit him so well, one had to wonder if they were tailored, if they did such things with such mundane articles of clothing. His skin was a radiant golden color...I hated him on sight.

I knew his type. A jock of some kind or, at the least athletic even if he wasn't a team joiner. He looked like he put on an article of clothing and then examined himself in the mirror to make sure he was as well appointed as possible. He strolled across the blacktop of the court with a confidence that wasn't the least bit arrogant—he was someone who was in control and knew it. He was in his domain, the cool kid. I'll bet everywhere he went, he was the cool kid.

I so hated him.

New guy ran by and knocked green shirt's hat off, and ran away a few steps, mocking him. Green shirt settled the hat back into place, but not before I saw very thick dark blond hair, and he said something to new guy that made him laugh. Green shirt called to one of the kids, waving a finger at them for some misdeed, and then walked over to the side of the court to watch them as they tried to play a game.

The group with the parachute broke up and the green shirts organized a soccer game comprised of some of the larger kids from the parachute activity; the group managed by the kid with the green shirt that I hated. He strolled with his kids, effortlessly cool and nonchalant, herding them onto the field with the other kids. Naturally, his charges seemed to like him and happily followed to their next activity.

I spent, according to my Rolex, several hours hidden up in the trees, observing the green shirts and their charges. It wasn't until the sun started to dip lower in the sky that I saw a school bus pull into the large parking lot adjacent to the rec. A green shirt stepped off the bus first and turned to direct kids as they piled off the bus. When the bus was about half empty, Piper emerged sporting her own green shirt and I felt a sense of relief. I had been starting to wonder how I'd find her and there didn't seem to be a lot of scenarios that ended well considering anyone that got close enough would know I was a street kid. I could imagine strolling into the lobby with no shoes and my 'lived in' appearance and what people would do when I casually asked to see one of their employees.

Then the well meaning shit storm would start, consisting of CPS, police and the foster system. Now that I saw her, I dared to hope she'd help. With a start at that thought, I realized I'd never contemplated that she might not help. I mean, she'd offered a place to shower and clean my clothes, but what then? I needed a place to crash and be safe because that mechanic would figure out, at some point, that there was someone living in that van. So, what did I really expect? Was there a place in the rec I could hide out? Was there, maybe, a shed with playground toys and other crap I could shelter in for a few weeks?

I settled in to wait for parents to arrive and start picking up their offspring. I wasn't yet sure how I'd approach Piper and this was chief among my thoughts when my head rocked back from a sudden impact; the wet slap making a loud smacking noise and a second later my skin stung from the blow. Opening my eyes, which had involuntarily closed when I was struck, I scrambled to my feet to find a wet soccer ball next to me and a child of about ten approaching me with caution.

“Give it,” he stated firmly.

“Nice manners,” I muttered and threw the ball out to him. Glancing up I saw the green shirt with the group had noticed me and was headed toward me. Shit! I ran through a list of potential actions: running would only make me look like I'd done something wrong for one thing. For two, with no shoes on my feet would be prey to whatever was on the ground in these trees. Small wooded areas were great for finding bottles and cans; unfortunately they were also a great place to find broken bottles as well.

If I stayed and let her approach, she'd want to know why I was there while assuming I was perving on the kids or something. However, maybe...

“Hey. Whatcha doing?” she asked, her voice friendly. “Love the hair!”

I moved my gaze to her—a pretty if plain girl with mousy brown hair braided behind her; the end of the braid lay on her clavicle. She was dressed in shorts, sneakers and the green shirt and her face was open and curious.

Okay, time to gamble. “Um. I was looking for Piper. She said I could find her here.”

“Piper Malone? She just got back,” she replied. “Come on down—did you cut through the trees to get here?”

“Um,” I said as I stepped out of the underbrush. “No. I just didn't want to...” I thought furiously. Why would I be hiding up there if my intentions were good? I grew warm and was sure that I was blushing, but then inspiration struck. “I didn't want to get her in trouble at work. By asking for her. You know?”

“Oh, for sure,” she nodded. “Come on. Are you guys...seeing each other?” She waved me forward, but her friendly posture was belied by the teasing tone that entered her voice.

“Sort of,” I replied. Her eyes raked me up and down and a puzzled look crossed her face, fleetingly. Any number of thoughts could have been going through her mind from the age difference between Piper and me to my barely concealed state of dishevelment. I walked back with her toward the groups of kids, feeling their eyes on me.

“Piper!” my escort called out moments later. “Got your boy toy here!”

I flushed in embarrassment as Piper turned her head in confusion. Her face, interestingly, broke into a smile as she spotted me. She turned and spoke to another green shirt, pointing at her group of kids I assume, before striking out to meet us.

“Ehren! I'm so glad to see you!” she said and embraced me. I mean, full on, no holds barred just grabbed me. I waited for her to back off from my inevitable stink but...no. Uneasily I hugged her back, lightly.

“Ehren, huh? Not bad, Pipes, not bad,” my escort said before wandering back to her group.

“I've been worried about you,” she said, releasing me. “I see you got the clothes. I was worried that guy would take my twenty and throw the bag out.”

“Mamoud is okay, mostly,” I replied. “Uh, thanks for the clothes, by the way.”

“They look good on you,” she smiled brightly. Her nose wrinkled but her smile was unaffected as she said, “Let's get you to a shower, huh?”

“Don't like my manly bouquet?” I teased.

“It's spicy,” she said, snickering. “An undertone of 'eww' is in there, too. Where's your bag? Did you bring stuff to wash?”

“Um, not really,” I replied. “Long story.”

“Okay. I'll raid my brother's gym bag while we wash this stuff.” By this time we'd crossed the lawn and she ushered me through a side door. We walked down a tiled corridor and then to a set of double doors labeled 'employees only'.

“No shoes?” she asked.

“Uh, I have one left. I have it stashed with my socks.”

She paused, and then stopped. Looking at me her tone turned serious. “Are you in trouble, Ehren? Is everything okay?”

“Um. Not really. I, uh, kind of had to make myself scarce.”

She studied my face for a moment and then nodded. “Whatever you need, Ehren. Let's get you cleaned up—when did you last eat?”

I thought for a moment as we resumed walking. “The day before yesterday. Um, thanks for the food, by the way.”

She waved a hand. “I owe you. Big time. Okay, shower is inside the employee bathroom right here,” she said, indicating an open door. “This is more private since it's a single stall rather than the rows we have for members. Put your clothes on the toilet and I'll get them in the wash. While you do that, I'll rustle you up something to wear.”

She turned and I reached out to touch her arm. I wanted to thank her for being who I thought—had hoped—she was. For giving me help when I had no place else to turn. My hand, however, fell just short of her arm and as her steps increased the distance between us, I felt the opportunity was lost. Perhaps, though, it might come again.

I stripped down and put my things on the toilet and climbed into the shower. I couldn't remember the last time I'd had an actual shower. Probably the time that guy asked me to come to his hotel room. Anyway, I took my time in the shower and cleaned everything more than once. At some point Piper told me there were clothes waiting for me and that she'd be outside. She'd been gone longer than I'd expected, which had made me nervous. A part of me was still afraid she'd be calling the police in a misguided attempt to help me.

Finally I turned the water off and pulled the curtain back to find a towel laid out over some clothes. I toweled off thoroughly and then pulled on the thick shorts, hoodie and slip on sandals. As I pulled the hoodie over my head I registered the scent I had so loved about the clothes she'd brought me—clean with some light scent of cologne and another scent that simply pleased my nose. I inhaled deeply and held the scent, enjoying a simple quiet minute.

“Ehren?” Piper's voice was accompanied with a tap on the door before she opened it a crack. “Are you decent?”

“As decent as I get.”

The door opened and she smiled. “You clean up nice. Come on, come hang out with me.” She raised her eyebrows and dandled a small bag in her hand.

“What's that?” I asked as I joined her and rolled the sleeves of the hoodie up. We walked back the way we'd come so she could return to supervising her group.

“Some toiletries. I figured you could clip those raggedy nails of yours, maybe run a brush through your hair.”

I glanced at my finger and toe nails. “Oh. Yeah.”

“Oh my God, what's up with that scratch?” she asked, pointing at my hand. Glancing down at it, I replied that I'd cut it on glass the day before. She made a pit stop for a first aid kit and we resumed our march.

She walked over to a group of picnic tables where a group of children were engaged in coloring, drawing and being loud. Parents were over at a small table waiting to pick up their kids. I watched as the girl at the table lifted a radio to her lips and a disembodied electronic voice said, “Can I have Kyrie and Jessica to go home, please? Kyrie Longo and Jessica Nelson? Also Ashish Sandrakar.”

“One sec,” Piper said to me. She walked over to a dark haired boy with dusky skin and said, “Ashish? Time to go home, buddy.”

The child's eyes turned to the table and broke into a smile. He hurriedly grabbed his backpack and ran down, bag bouncing against his back with each step, to his mother. My mouth went dry and I felt the clutch of an unfamiliar emotion grip me as I watched the child greet and be greeted with open arms by his parent. She took his backpack and carried is as he began to speak animatedly and her head was turned down to him to listen.

“Okay,” Piper said as she sat on the table top and set down her bag. Opening the first aid kit she held out her hand and I placed mine in hers. She examined the cut, which wasn't that bad, and she rubbed a cream onto it. Telling me I should reapply it over the next few days, twice a day, she handed the tube to me. I sat next to her as she rummaged in the little bag and then pulled out two sets of clippers and an emery board. She handed me the items and I worked on my grooming as she made the rounds with her kids and answered the occasional call for a pick up.

“Ugh, this day is almost over!” said a girl who plopped down next to me. I turned my head, recognizing the girl who'd escorted me to Piper earlier. “May,” she said, holding her hand out. I took it, shaking the thin hand.

“Ehren.”

“I know,” she replied, wrinkling her nose. “So you and Piper, huh?”

“Me and Piper what?” I asked, setting the clippers aside and setting the emery board to a sharp burr.

“Seeing each other? Duh?”

I turned my gaze to her in profile and raised an eyebrow. “Um, no. It's not like that.”

I was saved when Piper dropped down next to me and addressed May. “You can't have him, May. He's mine.” She emphasized this by grabbing my shoulders and giving me a hard shake.

“Okay, now I believe you, Ehren,” May laughed.

“Huh?” Piper asked, looking between us.

“Your friend thinks we're screwing,” I told her.

“I didn't say...that!” May said through giggles. “I mean, I might have implied that, but I didn't say it!”

“May,” Piper said, rolling her eyes. “This is the guy that helped me out that night on campus.”

May's eyes grew wide. “Oh.” Then, taking in my diminutive height she frowned. “Really?”

I looked at Piper and said, “You know, it's a shame when people make assumptions about your intelligence because of your beauty, isn't it? Or the size of your boobs?”

Piper's jaw dropped, her gaze flicked to May and then they were both laughing.

“Sorry!” May said through her laughter. “Obviously, I misjudged you and your abilities to help a girl out.” Her laughter tapered off and she placed her small hand on my forearm and said, “Thanks, though. You were there when she needed you.”

I shifted uncomfortably but was saved as one of May's kids fell backward and started to cry. In a moment she was gone, helping the child and I was left with Piper again.

“Can I have Simon Cole to go home please?” The voice crackled from the speaker in Piper's hand.

“Hang on,” she said and went to get the aforementioned Simon. I busied myself by putting her things back in her bag and zipping it up. When she returned she motioned for me to stand as she picked up the bag.

“Come on. I only have two left so I passed them to someone else; let's get you some food.”

She didn't have to tell me twice! I fell in behind her and re-entered the building, passed through the 'employee only' doors again and stopped at a row of lockers. Piper put her bag inside and removed her purse, a small affair in chocolate brown. Then I was led past the bathroom where there was a small lounge for the staff, a vending machine, sink, fridge and microwave.

“Okay,” she said as she opened her purse. “They have sandwiches and chips and—what do you like?”

I shrugged. “Food. I'm hungry, not picky.”

“Okay,” she said, dragging out the word. She fed a few bills into the machine and selected two sandwiches and slid over to another machine and selected a chocolate milk. Handing me the food, I was so eager that I soon found myself with some of the wrapping paper in my mouth. Picking it out I discovered Piper holding her hand over her mouth to mask her smile.

“What?” I asked.

“I guess it's just a guy thing,” she said, snickering. “You guys eat like someone is going to steal your food.”

“I'm just hungry,” I said a tad defensively. I did, however, try to slow down.

“It's okay, I'm only teasing. This should be enough to hold you over until dinner.”

“I get dinner?” I asked. “How does that work?”

“Well, you'll sit at a table with me, my brother and our parents...” she said, trailing off and giving me a silly smile.

“I can't meet your parents,” I stated firmly.

“Why not?”

I pushed the last of the first sandwich into my mouth and chewed for a minute. She was a smart girl, she'd figure it out if I gave her a minute.

“Are you afraid whatever kind of trouble you're in will follow you?”

Well, not exactly where I expected her to go. “It's possible,” I conceded. “But when I show up your folks will ask questions. Then they'll want to do the responsible thing and call the police or a social worker or their priest—something. Right now, Piper, I just need a place to lie low. Please...I didn't have anywhere to run.”

Piper looked at me thoughtfully while I tore into the second sandwich. She remained silent as I drained the milk and polished off the food, and then belched ungraciously.

“Excuse me,” I said, covering my mouth.

“I think I know how to solve this,” she said slowly, as if still putting the idea together in her head. “We've got a cape style house with an attached garage. There is a loft over the garage that my dad turned into a small apartment for my uncle Rick a bunch of years ago—but he moved out, so now it's kind of a rec room for me and Tris. We'll pass you off as one of Tris's new friends and, since it's summer, staying over won't be a big deal for a few nights. After that, we'll have to sneak you some.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “It's too risky. Isn't there a shed here at the rec I can crash in?”

She shook her head in reply. “No, they are all locked. If you got found they'd call the cops and someone would get fired.”

“I can't risk the cops or the 'authorities' being called,” I said.

She pursed her lips and moved them around, perhaps while thinking. Turning her gaze to me she said, “Ehren, when those guys were hunting me down they were going to drag me to their frat and rape me. When I got away I had to put all my faith in this scruffy little street kid to keep me safe. He didn't let me down.”

She tilted her head toward me, as if confirming the weight of her words.

“This isn't—“

“But it is, don't you see?” she said, reaching out and covering one of my hands. “Now, you're the one in trouble. The only help you have is a couple of suburban kids but you have to trust us. I know you said you don't have any options and so you came to me because...well, you know I owe you. Let me help. It's why you're here.”

I chewed on my lip as I thought. “What happened to those guys?”

She leaned back and said, “Cops went to visit them. They found my phone and my purse lying in plain view, so they searched the whole place. Found four other girls licenses and other stuff. Lots of charges.”

“What did you tell your parents, though?”

She leaned forward and said, “That some sweet guy stood up for me when no one else would.”

I looked away from her. I wanted to trust her. I wanted a soft place to sleep, a safe place to heal up and be fed.

“How'd you get that cut on your hand, Ehren? How'd you lose your shoes?”

Glancing up at her I said, “If you think you want to help, you should know what you're getting into first.”

She shrugged. “You knew the possibilities when you helped me. I want to know because I care what happens to you; it won't change my mind.”

I sighed deeply. “Well, there's this bookstore just outside of downtown...”