The Next Thing

I woke up with out a grin on my face. This happened often. I had no home, no food, and was running out of money. I had no parents, no relatives that I knew of, and no siblings. I had no mother to come home and cry to, and no dad to teach me to never give up.

I had the streets. I had the nighttime to go cold. I had the daytime to look for my next meal. I had the roads to beg on. I had one coat to try to stay warm. I had my own life. I had my own kind of freedom, but I was running out of ways to get by.

I looked in my pocket, to see if I had any spare change. Maybe I could buy a drink, maybe some gum. That would be good enough for the day. I turned my pocket inside out, and found three dollars in change. This was good. This was great, even. I got up, and walked down the street to the gas station.

“Hey Sam.” I said to the man working behind the cash register. Sam and I went way back. He’s the nicest person I knew. What ever I had, he doubled it. Three dollars in the morning, turned into six dollars for a day of work with Sam.

“Ali!” He called out. “How much you got today?”

“Three.” I said.

He nodded and gave me the thumbs up. I walked over to him and gave him the money in change. He counted it just to make sure I’m no liar. I lied sometimes. I even got away with it some days.

“You want to work with the cars in the shop today, or in here?” He asked.

I felt tired so I told him I would stay inside for the day. He nodded, again, and took out the trash.

I made myself at home and waited for a customer. It was a gas station, so there were about five people a day. People hear nasty rumors about gas stations. About how they’re no good. They got their own kinks, but hey, nothings gross with a little fixing.

When Sam returned he looked at me lounging in his chair, “kid, we gotta have a chat.” He announced.

Talks with Sam were never good. They were usually about my life, and what I was going to do, and stuff like that. Nothing I was interested in.

“You hear about the orphanage up town?” He asked me right off the bat.

“Yea. Heard they already transferred some kids from the orphanage in California here. Poor kids. Coming from California to New York. What lives they have.” I said back to him.

“I’m thinking you should go there.” He returned. He played with his hat, like always. He would turn it counter clockwise five times, and then put it back on his head. Only counter clockwise and only five times.

“Nah.” I said brushing the idea off like it was a fly.

“Now I’m serious Al. I’ve let you go in the past, but now there’s a place you can go. Grow up. Have food. Have a bed.” He said.

“Where’s this coming from, Sam?” I asked, becoming scared. I hated the idea of an orphanage. They seem so dark, and so gloomy. When you look at them, you just wish you could pull all of the kids out of there and set them free.

“I just hate seeing you come in here smelling like a dead fish, dressing like a hobo, and acting like a go damn rodent with out food!” He said, raising his voice.

“I see.” I huffed, remaining calm. I hated to lose my temper. It was never pretty.

“Now I’m closing early today, so we can go check this place out. You don’t have to make any decisions tonight. I just want you to see it up close.” He reasoned.

I didn’t want to start a fight with Sam. He was all I had. “Fine.” I said. 

Sam closed up the shop at six and took me back to his place so I could shower. I came to his house about once a week to clean up. He was kind about it, but not overly kind. Whenever policemen found me, I told them Sam was my older brother, and they let me off the hook. It was perfect.