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 Chapter 22: Fly Like an Eagle, Crash Like a Crow

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Kell
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PostSubject: Chapter 22: Fly Like an Eagle, Crash Like a Crow   Wed Aug 06, 2014 2:58 pm

For some time, I kept my head down as I walked deeper & deeper into the city. Soon enough I was entering the sketchier areas of the city where I could only imagine what the crime levels were. Along the wall of a building, I saw a heap of trash including a large coat resting on top. Walking by, I managed to grab the coat with my hands & toss it up upon my back, covering my back & cuffed hands. A teenager walking around in handcuffs is NOT the kind of attention I wanted.

It had been hours since Carson had lost me, but even though I had managed to get away from her, it was starting to dawn on me that I didn't really have many places left to stay. Ray's, Walter's, Caleb's...I SUPPOSE I could have stayed at Trent's but I really just...didn't want to. I decided to live it up on the streets of Seattle until the time came for me to head back to...wherever I'd been calling home lately. I had about $30 in my wallet which I knew wouldn't last more than a few days on McDonald's & some cigs. I'd have to start finding new ways of income after it ran out. Oh don't worry, though; I had a few ideas how to bring in money.

I came across a trashy auto shop that was littered with darker skinned men standing around mostly talking, a couple actually working. I knew I had my own...tough-skin attitudes...but I was not very fond of ACTUAL thugs. Maybe I'm being a bit stereotypical but who the fuck cares. Thuggish auto workers in wife beaters & cigars? A crowd I was not interested in dealing with. Trent had called me the "leather jacket, biker type" in the past which was close, minus the leather. Leather is for men with pitifully-sized genitals. Admittedly, I'm an asshole because a lot of things piss me off & I'm not crazy about the world around me. THESE people are assholes just because they want to me. Then again, I liked be an asshole to people sometimes, so maybe we weren't really all that different.

Unfortunately, now was not the time to let my probably-accurate prejudices run my behavior. I couldn't avoid these guys; I needed them, to get these cuffs off. I cursed under my breath & made my way to them.

"Hey," I called to no one in particular. All eyes were on me. They didn't like me already.

"Need somethin', little man?" said one of the Latino guys leaning against a truck with the hood propped up. He was skinny, but his arms were well defined & his undershirt announced a well defined chest, too. His head was shaved, like nearly all the others, & dark tattoos crawled along his mocha skin.

Keep in mind, friend, that I never said I was fearful of these animalistic beings. I made that clear as I continued walking, clearly passing onto their turf which was outlined by the lot's pavement. They all stood as my feet made their way into their territory. Some gringo with his hands behind his back underneath a coat brazenly walking onto their turf? Surely they thought I had a death wish. To be honest, I'm surprised I wasn't shot on the spot.

"Yeah, I was wondering if one of you guys could, uh...help me out?" I turned my body, showing them where my hands were.

"Help you out with what?" said a darker man who could have strangled me to death with just his pinky, he was so huge.

"I got some bracelets on that I'd really like taken off, please," I said childishly. Shucking the coat off me, I showed them my little predicament.

The men wooed and whistled as if I was an underdressed secretary who had just dropped her belongings. I grinned, thankful I was on their apparent good side.

"And where did you get them shineys?" another one asked me.

"At a bar."

"How old are you?"

I lifted my wrists. "Now you see my problem," I laughed.

The gang shared my vile humor & laughed along with me while one of them went off to get some bolt cutters. They returned soon after & as I was ushered into their shop, I sighed contently to myself, happy that my arms would be freed. Getting behind me, the man with the cutters placed the tool on the bands of the cuffs, & clipped them right off me. I grunted in satisfaction & eagerly rubbed my wrists.

"Woo, thanks a lot guys, I'll owe you one," I smiled to the group. Turning to the exit, I started to make my way out. "See you soon!"

But before I made it more than a couple feet, my collar was instantly yanked back & I found myself back in the circle of darkies.

"You know what, chico, I think we're gonna take you up on that offer right now, actually," said the man who had pulled me back. I jumped as I felt a hand quickly dive into my back pocket & take me wallet out. The guys laughed as another man opened my wallet & took the rest of my cash. I clenched my teeth. That was my hard earned, stolen money! I forced a happy smile anyway.

"Ahh I guess you guys deserve it," I tossed my hands up. "Thanks again!" I said, turning to leave. But once again, I was in the middle of the group.

"It's not enough, kid," said the man who had taken the cuffs off. "What else can you get us?"

"I can get you some good grass from school, pretty cheap but it's fine as hell. High schoolers know NOTHING about real business," I tried selling. The shit I'd smoked from school was awful but they didn't have to know that right now. And I also wasn't exactly heading back to school for any reason around this time.

"Sounds good to me, Rico," said the skinny man to the man with the cutters, obviously named Rico.

"Nah," Rico waved his hand. "For all we know, if we let you go now, you ain't never comin' back."

"How about you get us some nice little white girl tail, hmm?" the large, muscled man growled.

"I don't know anyone to get you. If I did, I would though." I told the truth that time, give me SOME credit.

"Get his phone," Rico ordered & before I knew it, the man who had taken my wallet out also reached in to get my phone. Tossing it to Rico, the man held on to my collar while Rico went through my contacts. Not that I had all that many to begin with, but as he found out, I was right; I really wasn't in touch with any girls. Although, a smile sneaked its way past my lips as I imagined little miss Betty on her back with her legs up in the air, trying to scream out her almighty's name in ecstasy...if another one of these guys' cocks weren't halfway down her neck. Knowing her, she was as tight as a Chinese finger trap.

I frowned as I saw Rico punch in some things on my phone. I knew he was adding his number to my contacts. Something told me I'd be involved with these wetback thugs longer than I wanted to.

"No girls, no dope...I hope you got another suggestion," Rico said, his voice sleek with irritation.

"Like...what?" I said.

"You tell us. And quickly; we're growing impatient, amigo," growled the larger man.

"I can get you more money," I offered.

"Which would require you to leave."

"How 'bout head?"

They certainly weren't expecting THAT as an offer. I saw their eyes blink, heads shake & legs shift. To be honest, the suggestion really did sort of just slip out. Now that I had said it, though, I wasn't about to take it off the table. I typically didn't give, but when I did, I was pretty good at it, if I do say so myself.

"Ha, I was thinkin' more along the lines of you finishing up our work around here for the next few days," Rico laughed.

"Ain't no way I'm lettin' some little white boy fag get near this cock," said the skinny guy.

"Manny, callate," Rico snapped at him. "How good are you?" he asked me. The other guys glanced at each other.

"That's for you to determine," I decided to play it cool. The faster I got this over with, the faster I got out of here.

I noticed some of the guys around me shift their stances, clearly starting to get excited about the concept. With the exception of this Manny fellow, I guess they weren't TOO stupid to know just getting head from a guy doesn't make you queer. Even though.....ok, yeah, maybe it really kind of does.

"All 10 of us?" Rico said, fingering his belt as the rest of the circle seemed to close around me.

"I'd be insulted if it was any less," I smirked, lipping my lips.

***

Holy christ did my jaw hurt...

As I stood up some time later, I looked around to glance at the content crowd surrounding me. That was certainly a first for me.

"You got your payment, so I think I'm gonna get going," I stated.

"Not quite yet," said Rico. With a snap of his fingers, the large man stepped into a back room. "When Rafael comes back, he'll show you exactly what we want for real payment."

"I didn't get on my knees to be face fucked by a bunch of damn thugs for shits & giggles, Rico," I said, biting emphasis on his name.

"Really? Because you offered to all by yourself," he responded.

"Yeah, to pay you back. I'm done," I said firmly, turning to leave. This time, however, I was violently shoved backwards & nearly fell down in front of Rico.

A minute later, the beast known as Rafael returned. When I saw what he had in his hands, I blinked. He was holding at least half a dozen white, sealed bags, which told me one thing.

Cocaine.

"Our little business here," Rico said, taking a white bag of cocaine from Rafael, "has been in the gutter recently."

I put two and two together. I quietly surrendered, knowing I wasn't about to get out of this.

"You want me to start selling, but only to the dope dealers who sell at my school because their suppliers will pay more than regular dealers," I jumped in. "And because most high schoolers are terrified of blow."

"An educated boy," Rico said. "This is why you stay in school," he laughed. "I bet you've done this before."

I learned a lot in Miami...

"What happens if I don't sell any?" I asked, somehow slightly angry rather than anxious.

I glanced at the men towering around me, one of whom took out my ID from my wallet & handed it down the line to Rico. I focused my eyes back on Rico, glaring at him, making it clear to him know that I wasn't exactly crazy about this.

"That," Rico replied as he magically produced a switchblade, "is for you to determine."

Talk about a major group fucking.

*****

They'd given me a few grams to test out in a shopping bag. I didn't intend on selling it but I knew I'd have to get the money to give them at some point. Unless things changed, I figured I'd just stock it up somewhere; use it as leverage. But for now, I had to move forward.

I came to an old, run-down church on the corner of a vacant lot just a few blocks away several hours later. Not really seeing any other options, I decided to make the old church my new home for a little while. Walking up the stairs, I pushed my way through the boarded up wooden panels on the front doors. How does a church close? Ohh that's right, because even the big man himself needs to make a quick buck. Croc of shit, I'm serious.

Stumbling into my new sanctuary, I saw dust everywhere. The church probably hadn't been closed for more than five years, but by the looks of it, it might as well have been closed a century ago. Cobwebs melded ceiling & wall, creaks softly moaning throughout the tired building. Cracked pews, molding support beams & crumbling drywall invited who knew what kinds of varmint. God had grown tired of having a disease-ridden neighborhood insult him by daring to ask him for favors.

I had a roommate, it appeared. Up by the alter table, I saw a body lying on the floor under a blanket. I hoped it was dead; I wasn't interested in sharing. I walked down the aisle, invisible strings of spiderwebs latching onto my face. When I was right behind them, I nudged them with my foot. They stirred as their slumber was disturbed.

"Huh...who's, who's there?" the older man grumbled.

"Who are you?" I replied.

"Name's Wex," the coot answered as he looked up at me. I guessed he was in his late 40s, early 50s. His face was unclean, unshaven & he reeked of booze. I recognized him from every Hollywood production ever portraying a homeless bum. I'd had my share of homeless acquaintances over the years but this guy took the cake for playing the part beautifully. His jean jacket was torn in a few places, burnt cigarette holes layering the rest. And his hat had what looked like some old vomit stains checkering the fabric. Lovely.

"What kind of name is Wex?" I asked.

"The kind of name you give the hospital when you don't remember your real name," he slurred. "Who are you?"

"I'm your new roommate I guess," I pouted.

"Roommate? Fuck you, I was here first," he spit out.

"Well you can either leave or stay, but whatever your decision is, I'm still gonna be here," I smiled.

"Gahh," he mumbled. "Take one of the pews. This area's mine."

I shrugged as I walked back to the pews. Picking one out that wasn't falling apart, I took off my new coat & set it down.

"So what brings you here?" Wex asked as he started to sit up.

"Oh you know, lost my home," I fibbed.

"What happened?"

"Told the old man I like boys," I said. "The back of his hand wasn't thrilled about it."

"Ahhhh. Lot of kids like you out here for that," the man said.

"Yeah. So since I'm new to your neighborhood, what's the best five-star dining place around here?"

"The soup kitchen over on Deacon street, bout six blocks away. It ain't shitty like every other soup kitchen in the country. Nice folks, nice food, nice place."

"I'll keep that in mind. So what brought you out here?" I asked him.

"Well, it's a long story but I'll give you the short version. I didn't get along with my mother when I was a kid. I left home when I was 16 & I got into street shit. After a long time, I was too fucked up so I figured I'd try to make up with my mom & see if I could stay with her for a bit but when I went back, I learned she'd died. So on top of never being able to say sorry for not being grateful enough to have her, I also had nowhere to live. So I've been out here the past 15 years."

He told the story with such emphasis, it was like he knew I had my own maternal problems & that he was telling me to go back & fix them. Fuck him.

"Anyway, the cops have kicked me out of every other place but here. I imagine they don't have the heart to kick a homeless guy out of a church haha."

"True," I said, sitting down on the pew. Scrunching my coat up, I placed it at the end of the seat against the armrest to use as a pillow. I was pretty tired from the day's events. Drinking, running from the cops, walking endlessly through the city, getting orally gang banged, forced & looking for a new temporary home...takes a toll.

"You're going to sleep?" Wex said to me as he stood up & rubbed his eyes.

"I'm tired."

"I was gonna head to a party. You should come!" he said excitedly like a little kid.

"Why?"

"You can meet my mates. Lots of booze, too," he hiccuped.

Well that won me over. I stood back up & threw my coat on.

"You're comin'? Woo boy we're gonna have bunches of fun. You ever drink before?"

I started walking with him through the aisle back to the doors.

"Not since noon."

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Chapter 22: Fly Like an Eagle, Crash Like a Crow
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