I grabbed my bag and headed out the door, right for the town’s only grocery store. I’d be hanging out there until dark, then I’d make my way to the old theater for the night so I could get some shut eye.
Maybe I’d get lucky and Joey would return there again.
Chapter Four
“Hey, kid, you can’t sleep here.” I felt a hardened boot kick my foot, jolting me out of my rather restless sleep. It was freezing. There was an icy chill in the air, which wasn’t exactly normal Texas weather. My heavy coat and jeans barely warmed my bones, and I probably was in the beginning stages of hypothermia, even though I would never admit it.
I never made it to the movie theater. My body was so tired from all the traveling that I just found a place behind the grocery store’s trashcans to block out the wind and try to survive the night. Being homeless wasn’t fun. I had to use my garbage bag full of clothes as a pillow, and cardboard boxes as a blanket. If I wanted to eat, the only option I had was to rummage through the dumpsters beside me for something suitable to consume that wasn’t already eaten by mice or bugs. There wasn’t much, but I did find an unopened bottle of water and a box of crackers that was a few days out of date.
When I finally sat up, I found a man standing over me, wearing what looked like a grocery store uniform, holding two large bags of garbage.
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, trying to dredge myself up to a sitting position.
The guy was a slightly older gentleman with greying hair. He looked tired and worn out. He struggled to get the first bag into the trash, so I jumped up to help him.
“Here, let me help you with that, sir.”
The man’s eyes widened. “Wow, I never expected a kid sleeping by a trash can to have such good manners.”
I grinned. “I grew up in the foster system. I learned very quickly to respect my elders.”
The faint smile, the old man had, faded. “Now you’re living on the streets?”
I shrugged, lugging the heavy trash bag into the dumpster. “Didn’t really have a choice, to be honest. I’m just here long enough to find my sister, then I’m going to try to find my own way.”
He nodded his frail head. “Rising Star is small. I’m sure you’ll find your sister pretty fast.”
“Hopefully.”
The man took a few cautious steps back. “I need to get back inside, but I wouldn’t linger here too long. They have cameras back here, and my boss has been known to call the police on vagrants who have tried dumpster diving before.”
Frowning, I hung my head in shame. I was one of those people now. The ones who had to surf through other people’s trash just to find something decent to eat. Most of the time, I just made myself sick. Living on the streets wasn’t easy, and I was in desperate need of support. I was just too proud to ask for it.
“Thanks for the tip. I’ll find somewhere else safe to sleep tonight.”
“If you can get to Brownwood, which is a few towns over, try New Beginnings Church. They offer shelter on cold days just like this.”
I nodded. “Thanks. I will look them up.”
Kicking at the dirt, I started to exit, only to have the man stop me.
“Here, kid, it’s not much, but it will keep you from eating from the dumpster like you were.” He handed me a twenty-dollar bill, which looked so foreign in my hand.
“I can’t accept this.”
“Sure, you can. Consider it payment for helping me throw that trash in the dumpster. These frail arms weren’t always so fragile. In another life, I was a competitive body builder.” He attempted to flex his muscles, but you could tell the motion was hard for him. “Arthritis in the joints,” he said weakly, rubbing at his elbow and shoulder.
“Well, thank you. Are you sure you want me to keep this?”
“Yes. Now get out of here before someone sees you. The last thing you need is to be holed up in a jail cell for loitering.”
“True. Thanks again.” I shoved the money into my pocket and picked up my things, heading around the front of the store.
I was only two steps into the parking lot when I heard the rumbling of a few motorcycles pull in. Two bikes with menacing looking bikers pulled into a parking spot with two pretty girls hugging their backs. Each of the men wore a black leather jacket that said Hell’s Artillery, and one of the girls had a similar leather jacket on, but hers said “Property of” and then had the name Ruger afterward. The first girl had long blonde hair, and looked as tough as the man she was hugging, but the second…
My heart stopped as I watched the shell of my sister crawl off the back of a bike, flip her hair, hair that was once a pretty auburn color but now black like coal, over her shoulder.
“Joey!” I yelled, trying to get her attention.
