Kensington & Ninth

            You’d think I would be used to living on the streets by now. Never having more than an alley or street corner to call home since being taken away from my mother minutes after birth, I still struggle to stay alive. Facing each day without so much as a guaranteed meal to fill my aching stomach or a hot shower to soothe my burning feet, I rely on the kindness of strangers to survive my misfortune. Though I don’t have a lot of money or things, I do have my friend Hal to keep me motivated when I feel like giving up. Having been on the streets for a number of years longer than me, Hal considerately shares his diverse street smarts to help us earn a few extra bucks here and there. Imparting much of his transient knowledge to me, we’ve been able to ward off death as a team; I truly don’t know what I would do without him.

            Looking to Hal as more of a father than a friend, I still can’t help but smile when he calls me his buddy. In fact, I sort of adopted the nickname as my actual name since my mother didn’t get the chance to name me before being separated from each other. Unfortunately I can’t remember my mother or whether she would mind me hanging around a guy like Hal, but for some reason, I feel like they would get along. I really think she would find him quite easy to get along with; especially the funny faces he regularly makes to make me happy when I’m feeling down. Even if my mother didn’t care much about where I ended up or who I spent my days with, I’m sure she would be grateful that a good man takes such good care of her son. He even ruffles my hair to make me feel better when I get sad and start to cry, like the other fathers doing to their kids when they walk past us on the corner of Kensington Blvd. and Ninth Street.

           I sure am lucky to have Hal look out for me; he feeds me even though he can barely afford to feed himself. That’s why it annoys me when couples walk by and give Hal dirty looks for having me around. Not that it’s any of their business anyway, I wish they could realize that a twelve year old wouldn’t be able to last out on his own without an adult to look after him. Regardless of my lifelong exposure to the effects of homelessness, like being sick all of the time, hunger, and discomfort, I am not immune to the hardships a child- let alone an adult- would experience from not having a home. Hal tells me that having a home isn’t as cracked up as people think it is. He always says that we have the freedom of doing whatever we want, whenever we want (even though all we do every day is ask well-dressed people for money and sit on the same corner until the sun goes down).  I trust that he’s right, but I do sometimes wonder what it would be like to sleep in a bed or have a kitchen to grab a snack whenever I felt hungry- the home furniture advertisements displayed on the bus shelter give me a glimpse into a comfortable world I’ve personally never known.

           Looking up at the sky, I could see the sunlight over my head trying to pierce through the dense winter fog, which meant it was almost time for Hal to count the money we earned that morning to see what we could afford for lunch. Being my second favorite time of the day- close behind my absolute favorite time of the day that would take place later in the day when the bell rings and the school kids walk by our corner. Ready to eat, Hal tipped over his coffee cup filled with change onto our checkered blanket and started counting the coins while he puffed on his smoldering cigarette butt. When he was finished, he poured the change into his coat pocket and told me to come along. He picked up the blanket and started walking down Ninth Street towards the best restaurant in town to get a delicious hamburger. I don’t know what I was looking forward to more, the tasty beef or the warmth from being sheltered from the freezing winter wind. As we walked into the restaurant, the young man at the counter told Hal that we had to leave. Confused since we didn’t get a chance to order yet, I stood against the cold glass door while Hal yelled at the man, telling him that he had just as much right to be in there as the rest of the customers. I appreciated that Hal always tried to make us feel welcome wherever we went even though we usually weren’t.

            After a shouting match, Hal lost his temper and kicked over a chair, which made the man behind the counter threaten to call the police again. Saddened by the fact that I wouldn’t get any food or warmth, I couldn’t help but whimper. Hal told me to quiet down, while he tossed his cigarette butt into the snow on the sidewalk. I’m so hungry that I almost jumped for the discarded cigarette just to have something to chew on. As I went over for it, Hal yanked me back and told me that he couldn’t afford to take me to the hospital if I got sick again. The last time I stupidly ate one of his cigarette butts, the doctor said I could’ve been poisoned and had even died; Hal was very upset with me when he needed to pay for my medication. Even though I felt sorry that I used up our food money on medication, it was hard to apologize because my stomach hurt so badly.

            My stomach feels almost as sore as it did when I ate that cigarette, but it’s just from hunger, so I’m sure it’s nothing for us to worry about. Hoping that Hal will choose another restaurant to try to get some food, I don’t want to tell him how hungry I am in case it upsets him and he decides not to share his meal this time. Walking further away from the restaurants, I’m starting to realize that Hal wasn’t focused on food anymore; we were walking closer to Hal’s friend’s house, where he goes to get his medicine. It’s too bad that medicine is so expensive, because Hal needs a lot of it- usually four or five times a day. As much as I’d prefer to spend our money on food, I hate to see Hal sick, especially when he starts to sweat and shake. I always offer more of the blanket at night, but somehow he gets hot and cold at the same time. I don’t understand it because I am mostly just cold at night. I know it’s funny but sometimes I get jealous and wish I could be as hot as Hal to be able to sweat; it would sure be a nice break when the temperature drops below freezing.

            Just as I guessed, Hal needed more of his medication, which meant I would have to wait outside on the porch while he went in the house to buy it from his friend Mark. This was my least favorite part of the day because it was a dangerous part of town; there were always people yelling or crying so loud that I could hear them from blocks away. If I was lucky, I wouldn’t have to watch men and women fight on the street. The violence makes me scared, so I keep my eyes closed until the hitting and kicking stops, which usually lasts until Hal comes back out for me or the police arrive. I’ve wanted to go inside with Hal to at least keep warm for a short while, but he said that Mark doesn’t like having me in there and gets nervous when I’m around. It hurts my feelings that he would think poorly of me even though he hasn’t met me; if he did, I think he’d realize that I’m alright to be around and wouldn’t make him nervous on purpose. I wouldn’t even say much, maybe just lie down and rest until Hal gets his medicine to feel better.

           Oh no, it’s happening again. A woman across the street is yelling at her boyfriend. I can’t understand the words she’s using but she seems really angry. He started yelling back, which usually means they are going to start to hit each other. I turn my head and tightly squeeze my eyes shut until I hear the police sirens- they help people stop fighting so I can open my eyes again. Once the police take the angry man and woman away in their car, I could also hear Hal coming down the staircase. Looking happier than he did before he went to see Mark, I could tell that the medication helped his feel less sick. Now we can go back to the corner of Kensington and Ninth in hopes of making enough money to get some supper.

          Walking back to our corner, the snow started to blow a lot harder than it did this morning, making my feet feel like they could freeze right to the pavement. Hal jokingly said once that he should save up to buy me a pair of shoes, but I know he wasn’t serious- shoes are expensive and would probably cost as much as a week’s worth of food for the both of us. I can be tough though, I’ll just be brave until I get back to the blanket and cover my feet from the wind for a few hours. I wouldn’t want to make Hal feel bad about not being able to afford shoes; it’s not his fault that his medication gets so expensive.

          When we returned to our corner, the snow had piled up so much that there was nowhere to sit. Since the street cleaners had just passed by, the snow from the street had fallen over to the sidewalk, creating a mountain of fresh snow and slush. Still feeling my stomach ache from hunger, I worried that the snow storm would keep people away and we wouldn’t get enough money for supper. Even worse, the school children wouldn’t even be able to walk by with the snow up to their chins. They never do play with me after their parents tell them to keep away, but I can tell they would like to. Most of the boys and girls walk up to me to talk, but then have to keep walking, which makes me feel discouraged. It would be nice to have a friend my own age to play with, but I know parents don’t want their children to be friends with someone who lives on the street. I’ve heard them say I’m dirty and that I probably have bugs on me, even though I can’t help but getting dirty from being outside all day and night. Hal usually screams at the parents and tells them to mind their own business. Although I don’t like when he screams, I appreciate him defending me when I can’t defend myself.

          Since there was no point sitting on the street without a single person walking around, Hal told me we were going to go back to our shelter until the snow dies down. I was happy to hear that we didn’t have to work anymore that day because I couldn’t feel my feet and my nose felt as cold as one of those exhaust pipe icicles I lick when I’m thirsty. We turned the corner around Phil’s Pharmacy and walked quickly to our shelter, which Hal made for us years ago out of a perfectly good tarp he found in the dumpster, tied with rope from newspaper bundles. It keeps the rain and snow out all year round, so I stay dry and the ice can thaw from my hair at night, which keeps me from getting a runny nose. Hal lifted the tarp for me to go in and then came in behind me.

Waiting for me to get comfortable, Hal stood over me until I arranged the blankets for us. He sat down next to me and put his arm around my back as his eyes started to close while his head started to nod from tiredness. Feeling the warmth of his body next to mine, I snuggled between his arm and chest until I stopped shaking, feeling warm enough to fall asleep. Just as we both started to fall asleep, our tarp was ripped off from above us, letting in the blowing snow. Rudely woken by the unbearable cold, I was frustrated thinking the wind blew our roof off again. Looking up to Hal, hoping he would fasten the frayed rope to the apartment building’s fire escape, I was frightened to see Mr. Oswald standing over us.

         Always trying to take me away, Mr. Oswald hated that I lived with Hal on the streets. Never asking how I felt about being with Hal, Mr. Oswald would rudely invite himself into our shelter and harass us on the street every chance he got. Once Hal noticed Mr. Oswald standing in front of us in his uniform and city badge, he stood up in huff to tell the man to go away- like he did many times before. As loud as Hal yelled at him, Mr. Oswald told him that he didn’t have a choice and it was in my best interest to go with him. Starting to get afraid, I hid behind Hal hoping the inconsiderate man would just go away and let us go back to sleep. Just like Hal says, it is none of his business and if he wanted to keep me around, it was his right to do so. It made me upset to know that a stranger would try so hard to separate us, even though we loved and needed each other.

Mr. Oswald made me jump as he grabbed me by my neck, forcing me to go with him. Overpowered by his strength, he dragged me through the snow as I started to cry. Watching me being taken away against my will, Hal started crying too and pleaded with Mr. Oswald to let me stay, saying that he needed me to live. Seeming like he didn’t understand what Hall was saying, Mr. Oswald continued to pull me away and then put me in the back of his van. I tried to yell as loud as I could to ask Hal to rescue me, but he couldn’t hear me from inside the vehicle. Still trapped in the back, I could hear Mr. Oswald telling Hal to keep his distance as he opened the driver’s side door then coldly said before driving away, “Just because you choose to live on the streets, it doesn’t mean the extreme conditions of the streets are fit for a defenseless dog.”