Part 4
I look at the remains in the ashes – they were talking about it. Those were my things. Many of them weren’t just comfortable but essential, helping me survive and even earn. Enough! I can’t let myself cry. There’s no time for that. Now it’s just ash, nothing more.
Those damn hotdogs pass by me while I’m hiding in the shadows of the tunnel. They fancy themselves as angry hunting dogs but can’t even catch easy prey. Ha!
Anyway, I’m getting out of here. There’s only one place I can go right now.
The sun finally deigns to rise, and it doesn’t feel as cold as it did an hour ago. I can feel winter brushing against my fingers, as if it wants to take me by the hand. On the other hand, I can feel the sun’s warmth grazing my cheeks, melting them like candle wax. Or is that just tears falling, scratching my skin as they roll down?
Soon, I arrive at “the place.” It’s hidden beneath the city’s old bridge, where no one usually walks. The river has thrown up slime and broken boat parts, which now litter the area. The most awful and nauseating part of the embankment, though, is the people—the indigenous inhabitants of this wasteland.
The majority of them live in makeshift camps. There are no colorful tourist tents here, no. Just cardboard boxes, leaky boat remnants, planks, ladders, plastic bags, and anything else that can offer even a bit of protection from the relentless dampness and wind. This is a village of the homeless.
I see only a few guys standing around a burning barrel for warmth. The scene is as usual: quiet, resigned, and suffering.
The others are likely still sleeping after the hard work of scrounging during Christmas night, or wandering in hopes of collecting scraps from the parties and feasts. Sometimes, we get lucky. Once, three years ago, we found a freshly baked duck. It was a bit burnt, and some housewife had decided to toss it out. What a fool!
My fellow smelled it and found the duck. It was one of the happiest memories since I became homeless.
– Who are you? – a strange young man asks me.
I’ve never seen him before. He’s not exactly polite for a first meeting.
– Who is he? – I asked another familiar guy. – A new one?
– Yeah, he’s been around for a few days, maybe a bit longer, – the man answers.
– Hey! I’m standing right here in front of you! Ask me directly! – the new guy snaps, clearly irritated.
I remember having the same reaction when I first became homeless. It happens to all of us when we’re thrown into this life and have to gnaw at our crappy circumstances like a dog with a bone.
– Relax, man! I’m not here to take your spoils, – I say calmly. I have no reason to fight.
– Fuck the spoils! I’ve never tolerated insolence from some brat! If you keep looking down at me, I’ll shove your little cocks into your ass…
He doesn’t realize I’m a girl. My mask is working.
I don’t want to listen to any more of his nonsense, so I turn away to talk to the familiar guy about a deal. But the annoying newcomer interrupts me by shoving me.
– Not listening, huh? Are you deaf? – He tries to push me again, but I sidestep him.
Breathe deeper. Don’t give in.
I’ve learned a few techniques for dealing with annoying admirers, thanks to my goombah. So… I prepare to act.
– Leave him alone! – a loud, commanding voice booms across the place.
It’s the head of the hole, the leader of this camp. He was like a father to my goombah – technically like a grandfather to me – so I’ve always felt like family. He’s also one of the wisest men I’ve ever met, second only to my goombah.
– Who are you calling “him,” you old creaker? – I shout defiantly.
– You! – The old man marches toward us. – Why are you here? If you thought I’d forgotten about last time, you’re wrong!
He looms over us, and my opponent visibly shrinks, pulling his head into his shoulders.
Surprise, surprise! Bite me, puppy! Now who’s shoving cocks into whose ass?
– What’s that? Ha?! – I taunt, grinning. – Can’t hear your mumbles, old bones?
The newcomer turns pale as the old man and I exchange knowing smiles.
The creaker rushes to hug me, and I burst into laughter. Just then, someone else appears.
– It’s a damn good question! “Why are you here?”
