Bridge To Her Heart <3

Chapter 2 (Stranger)

Spring aroma’s slid across Cleo’s nose as she trudged along the abandoned road. She could distinctively make out the footprints she made just yesterday. Her hands dug deeper in her pocket and she hung her head lower as a loan car drove by, coming to a slow roll at the sight of her and then finally speeding up. 

She let out the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding and sighed when the bridge finally loomed before her. Cars whizzed by on top of it, unaware that a sixteen year old girl was just below. She quickened her pace until the shadow of the thick cement hovered over her. 

“Cleo girl?! Good to see you!” a rugged voice called up ahead. Cleo darted up the smooth incline of the bridge, used to it after all these years. She stopped by her tent to drop of her torn school bag and strolled on over to Murphy’s tent. 

There were exactly eleven tents lined up on the incline of the bridge. They all belonged to the homeless like Cleo and Murphy. The thought of Murphy made a smile quiver unto Cleo’s face. He was a scruffy old man that practically raised her. He taught her right from, showed her the ropes in this crazy world. Then one day Cleo just knew, she knew she'd probably never be able to live without him. 

“Hey Murph,” she chirped, letting the nickname she had given him years ago reverberate off of the bridge walls. 

“How was school Leo?” Murphy asked, using the nickname he dubbed upon her and offering her some of the cold ravioli he was eating, right out of the can. 

“Ok, I guess.”

Cleo sometimes worried about Murphy. He was getting to be an old softy. His aged and unruly beard grew in tangles, the beanie cap on his head hardly blocking him from the elements with its many holes. 

“You guess!?” Murphy mused, chuckling to himself, “You better not guess Little Leo, you better know! School’s what’s going to get you a house and home, away from this stinky old bridge and away from stinky old me.”

The thought of leaving Murphy made Cleo cringe and she rapped a small hand around his wrist. 

“I’m never leaving you Murphy. You here me? For now this bridge is my home.” And as she said it Cleo actually believed herself. She was raised and loved under that bridge, a simple man-made thing that had dominated so much of her life. 

Murphy gave her a sad and reassuring smile, “You’ll keep saying that Cleo but one day your feelings won’t be the same.” Cleo wanted to protest but let the old man talk as he stood to a groaning stand. “You’re going to want a better life, friends at school who will accept you and a real home. A real family.”

Cleo shook her head all the while, strands of honey glazed hair licking her cheek. “I don’t want those things.”

Murphy laughed to himself again, flem filled raspy coughs taking over his chuckles, “You keep saying that Cleo. Just know that I won’t interfere with what makes you happy.” Murphy’s caring brown eyes stared down at her for only second before he started to make his way into his tattered and torn tent. 

“Don’t go yet Murphy,” Cleo begged, her hazel almost yellow eyes boring into him, “Let’s talk for a while.”

Murphy shook his head sadly, ruffling the disappointed girl’s hair, “I just can’t little Leo, not today, just too tired. Too tired is all.” He gave her two more loving pats before scuttling inside.

Cleo shook the worry out of her head and rose to a stand, her torn cheap leather boots pinching her toes in the process. “It’s ok Murph, I have an early shift at the book store anyways,” she called into him, only to hear snores as his answer.