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“Don’t have one.”
He nods his head seemingly understanding.
“I can’t go back. Please, don’t make me.”
“Nah, you don’t have to go anywhere you don’t wanna go, kid. The thing is, you’re sleeping behind my tattoo studio, and I just can’t in good conscience leave you out here. I ordered some lunch today. Pizza. Hungry?”
Going back and forth with myself, I try to decide if I should trust him. Something about him feels genuine, but I clearly haven’t always been the best judge of character. It’s also hot as hell, I haven’t had any real food, a shower, or a good night of rest in what feels like forever.
“Okay,” I whisper.
“Okay,” he echoes back, as he crawls out of the alcove and I follow behind him. Walking around the building, he holds the door open to his shop and I follow him inside. Eccentric art fills the walls, similar to the style of drawings I used to make for El.
“Th-this is your place?” I ask in awe, as I spin in a slow circle, taking in every nook and cranny of the modest sized studio.
“Yeah, it’s not much but I’m something of a local legend around here, and the studio is just me so I don’t need too much space.”
“You tattoo?”
“Yep,” he answers, sitting down on the small sofa and opening the box of pizza, motioning for me to come take a slice.
Holding my backpack in my lap I sit down in the chair opposite him, the black leather warm from the sun that shines brightly through the tinted window. I hesitantly accept a slice of pizza but when the scent of the garlic, tomato and cheese hits my nostrils, I immediately devour every last bite. And when I finish, he offers me another slice.
I inhale that piece faster than the first, and by the 4th slice, I feel like I couldn’t eat another bite.
“Thanks, Rodney,” I say as I push up to my feet.
“Where ya headed, kid?”
“I don’t know,” I answer honestly, shrugging my shoulders.
I’ve been on the run for weeks. Sleeping outside and cleaning myself up in gas station bathrooms. There was no end in sight, just the goal of putting space between myself and Silversun Valley until I could figure everything out.
“Answer me an honest question?” he asks.
I mull it over for a moment, before nodding my head yes.
“Why are you on the streets?”
“That’s… a loaded question.”
“Give it to me straight,” he crosses his arms over his chest and leans back in his seat.
“Don’t have any family,” I don’t know why the words spill out of me, but they do. “I ran away… from… a pretty bad foster family and I can’t go back there.”
I hope I’m right. I hope I can trust him, because I can’t go back to that family. I know things I shouldn’t know, and I saw things I shouldn’t have seen. There’s no way I’d make it out of there alive again.
Rodney nods his head and eyes me for a few moments. I find myself wondering what he’s thinking. I really fucking hope he’s not about to call the cops, because they would only take me back.
“Okay well, Zeke. If you can, I don’t know, clean up around my studio a few days a week, I have a small apartment upstairs. I used to rent it out but it’s empty now. You can stay there.”
“Why are you being so nice to me?” I ask, because I really need to know. People don’t just do this kind of thing. Kind people just don’t exist in this world.
“Let’s just say, I know what it’s like, kid.”
Chewing on my bottom lip, it hits me that I’m too exhausted to turn him down. “Okay, maybe just a couple of days?”
My phone buzzes in my pocket, waking me up. Rubbing my eyes with one hand, I reach down into my pocket and pull my phone out. 7:30pm. So much for just a few hours.
