“Jay is going to end up in prison for solicitation.”
I look at the other man while my brain tries to come to terms with what he’s saying. Solicitation? Prostitution? I’m stricken. This beautiful boy lying on the ground is a prostitute. I can’t wrap my head around it.
“What?” The word is out before my brain can process how judgy it’ll sound.
He doesn’t reply and launches the phone back at me. How can he be so sure I won’t call someone anyway?
He crouches down and whispers something I can’t hear. Jay, though, is still out and doesn’t seem to be ready to come back to reality. He grips Jay’s hand in his, and then after wiping his eyes, he’s back on his feet and facing me.
“I’m Jeremy,” he says, but doesn’t make an effort to shake hands, instead he pushes them inside his pocket. “I can’t leave, so I’ll have to trust you to take care of Jay. Please, don’t call an ambulance or the police.” The words are more a request than a plea, until I look up at his face.
He grabs a phone from his pocket, so old I’m not sure you could even go online, and then he hands it to me.
I take it when it’s offered, and then look at it, not really understanding what he wants.
“Write your phone number, and I’ll call you as soon as I’m done here.”
I look at him without moving. My brain is trying hard to catch up, and I blame the alcohol, even if my second drink is still sitting on the table untouched. “How can you trust me? I could be someone who’ll hurt him.”
“I don’t trust.” He presses something on his phone and then mine rings. It stops, then he does something again and mine rings a few times more. “But with the job we do, we understand people, and I’m sure you do anything bad to Jay.”
“How do you know?”
“Because you went to the effort of saving him.” He moves a few steps away, and then turns back to me. “If I had a place where I could keep him safe, I wouldn’t be leaving him with you.” He turns around and walks away, but not before retracing his steps, crouching down and kissing Jay on his forehead.
“Hey, I can’t do this,” I say while trying to stop him from leaving, but he avoids my touch and with a glance back at his friend, he moves away. But I block his path.
“Hey, you can leave him here.”
“If someone…” But his voice trails off.
It hits me then that they’re working.
“I need a minute to pick up my jacket. Stay here, I’ll be back soon.” I don’t wait for him to reply, I just turn around and march to the door. A couple of minutes later, I’m back. Jay is still on the ground and Jeremy is sitting next to him. As soon as he hears me, he passes his arm over his face, but not before I spot the tears.
I pretend not to see, and instead I focus on taking care of my boy.
Okaaay, my boy it is, then.
I need to stop with this nonsense. He’s not my boy, he’s nothing to me, but then why can’t I stop my eyes from checking if he’sokay, while hoping for him to open his and smile like he did before?
“Take this,” I say to Jeremy and hand him the car key.
“What?”
“I can’t do everything on my own. I need you to open the back door, so Jay can lie there. It’s over there,” I say, gesturing in the general direction of my car.
He nods and then sprints off.
A light rain starts falling down, as if we need more problems.
I turn my attention to Jay, still lying there on the cold ground, and that pushes me to act. I can’t leave him here. But I still can’t believe he’s coming home with me.
I kneel in front of him. I lay my jacket over him and then push one arm under his head and the other under his knees, making sure I don’t cause any more pain. He’s as light as a feather. He’s thin and small, and his frame under my big hands is bony and fragile.
Why is he working on the street? What happened to him?
By the time he’s secured in my arms, the light rain is a thousand times worse. Brackets of water are falling down from the sky. I use the wall to keep Jay up and then one of my hands to pullthe jacket over his head, while I pull him more firmly against my chest.
