"Being unwanted, unloved, uncared for, forgotten by everybody, I think that is a much greater hunger, a much greater poverty than the person who has nothing to eat."
-Mother TeresaThe rain fell for two days straight. When it was over, Gus crawled out of his tent to check out what was left of Skid Row. The tents that had been tied to pallets, like his and Strawberry's, were still standing. Many others were collapsed in on themselves, blown away or flooded inside like baby pools. Everyone was taking inventory of what was damaged or destroyed and what they had left.
Gus had been right. Five people had died, four of hypothermia, during the storm: an old man named JJ, a prostitute who called herself Queenie, a junkie named Danny and his girlfriend, Emily, and a guy who'd snorted so much Ketamine he had drowned in a puddle, unable to lift his head. All of them were soaked through and had been sleeping under tarps on the sidewalk.
Strawberry was still in her tent asleep when Gus walked outside that first bright morning, so he left her portrait rolled up between a couple of pallet boards for her to find later. Then he made his way to Ida's to deliver her drawing and see how she'd weathered the storm.
Ida's tent was still standing, and she was outside helping another man push his water logged tent toward the street so he could dump it.
"How'd it go?" Gus asked her.
Ida smiled as she watched the man's tent flood gallons of water into the street. "Not too bad. It was kinda cozy. Did you get through okay?"
"Yep."
"Come on in. I got two for one Egg McMuffins."
Gus followed Ida inside and sat in his usual spot in the corner. While she dug through the McDonald's bag, he put the portrait he'd done on the floor in front of her.
"I did this. I was bored," he said.
Ida took the tightly rolled paper and peeled it open. She stared at it for a very long time, and Gus couldn't guess what she was thinking, and he feared she hated it. Then her face changed. For a moment, she almost looked like she might cry.
"This is incredible, Gus," she whispered.
"It's not that good," Gus said with an embarrassed shrug.
"No... it's really amazing. I'm not lying. I had no idea you could draw like this..."
"I did it all the time back in Chicago. I sold them to tourists, but I thought it was because they just felt sorry for me."
Ida shook her head. "You've got some real talent here. I don't think you know how much talent you have."
Gus blushed. No one had ever told him he was good at anything, not once in his whole life. He knew he was good at working people and playing the game, but otherwise he considered himself pretty useless.
"So you like it?" he asked nervously.
"I don't like the person in it," Ida said with a chuckle. "But the drawing is amazing."
"So I been thinkin', Ida," Gus said.
"About what?"
"I almost got enough money to get back to Chicago, and I want to take Strawberry. Do you wanna go too? Skid Row sucks. Everything's better there."
"You want me to go with you to Chicago?" Ida asked skeptically.
She handed Gus his Egg McMuffin, and he ripped off the wrapper hungrily and took a huge bite.
"Yemf," he said.
"Don't talk with your mouth full. Bad manners," Ida said bossily.
Gus swallowed. "Yep," he said.
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Reaper's Lullaby
General FictionNora is crippled by anxiety that lurks beneath a Good Girl shell. Lucas is drowning under the weight of his rage and depression. They've been best friends since they were babies living on the same suburban street and have never needed anything but e...