Helios Beginnings (The Helios Chronicles #0.5) (5 page)

“Well,” he said, removing his cap to run his hand over his head. “I could give ya a lift to Denver. You could probably catch another ride there.”

“That would be amazing. Thank you.”

“Hop on in, kid.”

Andrew quickly made his way to the other side and climbed into the truck. He placed his bag between them, a barrier of sorts but never took his hand off of it. The trucker noticed this but didn’t say anything about it. He had given many wayward youth rides along the highways and knew they were very protective of the few possessions they had. He briefly wondered what drove this kid to the streets, but decided it wasn’t his business. It was a long stretch of road from Kansas City to Denver and at least now he had someone to talk to.

For the next twenty-four hours, Andrew traveled. The kind trucker from Kansas City had dropped him off in Denver and even went as far as to find him another ride. The next trucker got him as far as Phoenix where he was able to hitch a ride to Barstow, which was where he was now. He looked around the crowded gas station trying to make a mark. He needed someone older. They were more apt to help out young people. As if on a cue, a middle aged couple stepped through the doors. He breathed out softly and when the husband went to the restroom, he approached the woman who was deciding which soft drink to buy.

“Ma’am,” Andrew stated softly.

She turned and looked to see who was speaking to her. It was boy, young, maybe late teens. She wasn’t good with ages. He was tall though with broad shoulders and a slim build. She thought he had a kind face with the saddest green eyes she had ever seen. His hair was a disheveled mess, greasy and uncombed, and his clothes were crumpled as if he had been sleeping in them for days. He carried a tattered backpack which was slung loosely over his right shoulder. He had an expectant expression on his solemn face.

“Yes,” she said softly.

“I hate to bother you, but I’m trying to find a ride to Los Angeles.”

“Los Angeles, my, that’s a bit of a ways.”

He smiled at her, but the smile held no warmth. “Yes, ma’am, it is.”

She glanced and saw that her husband was now watching her. “Let me visit with my husband and see if we can help.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Andrew replied in a soft tone.

Andrew swallowed and watched as she walked over to her husband. Her husband kept looking over at him. Andrew was always better with the women. They were more sensitive to his charms whereas men didn’t trust him much. Not that he blamed them. He probably wouldn’t trust himself either. He looked to the ground, noticing that the rip in the toe of his sneakers had grown wider over the course of this trip. He heard movement nearby and looked up, seeing the woman, along with her husband, standing before him.

“We’re heading back to Riverside but we can swing by the Metrolink station in Rancho Cucamonga. You’ll be able to catch a train there to Los Angeles.”

Andrew smiled and shifted his backpack on his shoulder. “Thank you.”

Ten minutes later they were on the road. Andrew sat comfortably in the backseat, gazing out the window as they went through the Cajon Pass. No one had said much, which Andrew was happy about. He was all talked out. He just wanted to get to Los Angeles and start his life. When he did shift his eyes slightly towards the front seat he noticed that the woman kept looking at her husband who had been eyeing Andrew for the past several miles. She nodded her head to him and he finally spoke.

“You know, Los Angeles is not all it’s cracked up to be,” the man said bitterly, looking at Andrew in the rearview mirror. “It’s not like it is in the movies.”

Andrew sighed. “I know.”

“Honey,” the woman said, practically leaning over the back seat to make eye contact with Andrew. “I’m sure whatever your parents said or did they are really sorry about it. Why don’t you give them a call, have them come and get you,” she said while wiping under her eyes.

Andrew looked at her and frowned before turning back to the window. Obviously this woman had no idea the depths of his parent’s abuse. Sorry? Andrew couldn’t fathom them being sorry for the things they had done. He didn’t say anything though and the woman turned back around. They rode the rest of the way in uncomfortable silence until they reached the Rancho Cucamonga city limits. The man pulled off on Foothill Boulevard, and then stopped in front of the station. He turned to look at Andrew and there was a sadness there that Andrew hadn’t seen before.

“I know it’s none of our business, but running away isn’t the answer.” He turned as his wife nudged him. He then shifted in his seat and pulled out some cash from his wallet, leaning over the seat to hand it to Andrew. “L.A. is real expensive, take this. It’s not much, but it might be able to help some, get you a room for a night or something.”

Andrew looked down at the cash and then stuffed it in his front pocket before they had a chance to change their minds. He took a deep breath and opened the door but before stepping out he turned back and looked at them both.

“Thank you for helping me. I appreciate it.”

They nodded as Andrew stepped out of the car, shutting the door behind him. He hurriedly made his way inside the station, not sure when the train would be leaving and not wanting to miss it. He purchased his ticket, relieved that he wouldn’t have to wait very long. Sticking his hands into his pockets, he looked around. He couldn’t believe that he was almost there. The money in his pocket was bunched together so he headed to the restroom, hiding in one of the stalls so he could figure out how much he actually had. Between what he brought with him, what these people just gave him and minus what he’d spent on tickets and food, he discovered that he had almost seven hundred dollars. He smiled. If he played his cards right he could make that last several months. Andrew glanced up when he heard them announce that his train would be arriving soon. He quickly washed up, splashing water on his face and headed out there. As soon as the train pulled up, Andrew darted on. He was taking no chances of missing his connection. It meant too much to him. Once the train started moving, Andrew positioned his backpack against the window so that he could rest a bit.

“CAL STATE LA.” The announcer stated over the intercom, startling Andrew awake.

Andrew sat up and glanced around the train. He noticed that there were several more people on the train now than when he had boarded. He immediately rubbed his neck, which was sore from the unusual position he had laid in. He smirked slightly as he observed that absolutely no one had paid him any attention. No one noticed him. It was like he had anticipated. He would be invisible in the big city.

“LA UNION STATION.” The voice over the intercom announced.

That was Andrew’s stop and he could see that, like him, everyone started gathering their belongings. After following the wave of people who were exiting the train station he took a moment to assess his new environment. It was already night time which wasn’t good for him. He didn’t want to be wandering around in the middle of the night until he knew exactly where the places were that he needed to avoid.

“Damn it!” he muttered to himself.

He started walking, trying to find a good spot to rest for the night. A park could work, but that wasn’t his first choice. A light from a building down the way caught his attention. As he approached it he smiled. It was a church. There were a few cars there so he knew the doors would still be open. He decided that he could hide out in there and then leave in the morning. He nodded to himself. That was a good plan. He glanced around and spotted a street vendor across the street. He grabbed a burrito before heading over to the church. He ate it quickly, his hunger getting the best of him. When he entered the sanctuary he saw that there were a few people inside praying, but they didn’t notice him. Andrew found a nice hiding spot and waited until he heard someone going through the church locking all the doors. Once the lights went out he emerged from where he was hidden and found one of the pews to lie down on. The church was quiet at night and as he gazed at the beautiful ceiling he smiled feeling that his life could now begin.

II

Los Angeles, California

Andrew frowned as he looked at the rumpled bedspread. The smell of sex in the room was nauseating. He swallowed thickly hoping to erase the past hour from his mind. He couldn’t believe that things had come to this. The first three years in Los Angeles did not turn out quite as Andrew had imagined and the last year of his life had definitely been a slow descent into hell. He had been able to make the money he brought from Detroit stretch for a little over six months. Not bad considering he was only a kid. During those first six months he rotated between various churches and once a week he would stay at one of those twenty-dollar-a-night motels that were often used by women of the night, so he could sleep on a bed, take a really long, hot shower and hand wash his dirty clothes. It was a fairly good system.

Andrew was able to work some under the table jobs that allowed him to eat at least once a day but he wasn’t able to find any permanent work because the job market was so tight. It was so bad that even the fast food places weren’t hiring people who didn’t have high school diplomas. He had thought maybe the shelters could help him out, but he had a huge fear of them.  Worried that if he stayed there, they may call the police or perhaps report him as a runaway. After his money ran out he didn’t have much of a choice, he had to do something. It turned that out they didn’t care about his history; they never even asked him how old he was.

Andrew heard the shower turn on full blast and could hear the woman singing loudly. She was definitely feeling happy. He supposed that was something good that came out of this situation. He let out a defeated sigh and reached for his jeans, pulling them on quickly. He gently rolled his shoulders a few times and then started to rake his fingers through his extremely tangled hair, trying his best to settle it down. He stole a quick glance at the bathroom door again. His hand was firmly placed on his left forearm, scratching methodically. He then scanned the room and found her purse sitting on the table. Andrew swallowed thickly, choking down the anger and disgust he felt about himself before quickly going through the unsuspecting woman’s wallet. He found a hundred and forty-eight dollars. That was not bad but it wasn’t good enough. He needed more! He then spotted her watch and rings laying on the nightstand and walked over to snatch them up before bolting out the door. He made his way down the street to the local pawn shop and was able to procure another hundred dollars for her things. That would definitely allow him to get enough to last a little bit.

“Harrison, I guarantee, man, this shit will take it all away. It’s like touching heaven.”

“I don’t know, man,” I say hesitantly.

“I swear to you. This is it, this is your thing.”

I watch him for a moment and decide what the fuck do I have to lose, might as well try.

“Alright man, do me up, show me what this shit can do.”

“You won’t regret it, Harrison.”

I watch as Riley prepares the heroin. Over the past year I have tried speed and cocaine, once each, but that shit just made me feel out of control. That’s not what I wanted. I liked the way pot made me feel, like I didn’t give a shit what was happening
,
but
it didn’t do anything for me anymore. I was still reluctant to try heroin though. I don’t know why, but fuck it. I just want to forget. He shows me how to tie my arm up and then taps my vein a couple of times to get it to pop up.

“You ready for the ride of your life?”

“Stop trying to sell it, Riley and just do it,” I say with a frown.

He laughs and then inserts the needle into my vein and I feel it immediately. Holy SHIT! I can’t even describe what it feels like other than to say it’s like this sweet and tranquil euphoria that pulses throughout my entire body making me feel like nothing else exists. My eyes roll back and my head drops against the back of the couch as all my troubles float away. I hear Riley in the background laughing but I don’t care. I think I have found fucking paradise.

“I told you right? Liquid... fucking... heaven,” Riley purrs next to me.

All I can do is nod as the first genuine smile I have had in a long time creeps across my face.

The blare of a car stereo startled Andrew out of his memory. He shook his head and breathed in deeply before running across the street. Andrew had stayed fairly clean for the first three years in California, aside from smoking pot and the occasional harder drug. He had been scrapping by, but for the past year things changed. Once he started using heroin it became his drug of choice. He’d been doing the drug pretty regularly. Like most addicts, he felt as if he had some control over his use. As opposed to some, that was probably true. He had managed to control his use to the point that he only shot up once a day. He knew that was the only way he could make his stash last. That was at least one positive thing he had garnered from his parents. He knew how to be disciplined. Of course, once he started using regularly he needed a steady income, which was hard to come by. This was why he found himself pulling a scam like he did in Detroit. He couldn’t see another way out of it. He needed cash, quick, and knew that was the best way to do it. While he had promised himself that he would never do that again, it was all he had that he was any good at. That thought made him remember what his father had once told him.

“You’re going to be real pretty, Andrew, way too pretty for a man. You need to use that as an advantage to fuck others or you’ll end up getting fucked yourself.”

He blinked rapidly and tried to settle his breathing in hopes of quelling the rising bile in his throat. He hated that his father’s voice was always in his head, reminding him what he had become. He picked up his pace as he continued to stride down Hollywood Boulevard. He ignored everyone and kept his eyes down, staring at cracks in the pavement until he reached Hudson, where he made a quick turn, heading towards his dealer, Riley’s place. Riley lived in an older home that had likely been there for decades. It looked like any other house on any block in the area. There was nothing about it that told passerby’s that the man residing inside sold drugs. Andrew stepped up and knocked on the door determinedly.

“Hey, Harrison,” Riley said with a smile as he stepped aside to let Andrew walk inside.

“I need some, Ri.” There was a sense of urgency in Andrew’s voice.

“Do you have money, Harrison? I can’t just give it to you,” Riley said, somewhat annoyed.

“Yeah, yeah,” Andrew replied, clearing his throat. “I got money," he continued as he pulled out the cash he had ‘earned’ earlier. He handed it over to him.

Riley nodded and smiled. “I’ll be right back.”

Riley walked out of the room and a few minutes later he was back with a baggie of white powder. That was one thing Andrew liked about Riley, he didn’t mess around with his dope. There was no fooling around as far as Riley was concerned. Andrew’s breathing hitched and he swore that his vein actually started to pulse just knowing the drug was so close. Riley handed the bag to Andrew who quickly brought out his kit. He was trying hard to get everything set up but his hands were trembling.

“You need some help?” Riley asked but Andrew shook his head frantically.

“Nah, I can do it, man. I’m good.”

Riley nodded and left the room, giving Andrew some privacy to do his thing. Andrew took a few deep breaths and concentrated hard on steadying his shaking hands. After a few seconds he was able to get everything together. The minute the Heroin hit his system his heart stopped racing and his breathing steadied. He could hear talking and movement around him, but he didn’t pay attention to any of it. His eyes closed as a sense of warmth and peace washed over him.

~*~

Andrew shifted his backpack to his other shoulder. He felt in his pocket. The crumpled wad of cash was small. He was almost out of money again. He let out an exacerbated breath knowing what he would have to do and fairly soon. His stomach grumbled. He hadn’t eaten in a few days and was starting to feel it. His body felt tired and weak. It was hard to imagine that a twenty-one year old could feel so old, but he did.

He crossed the street and slipped into the alley behind the restaurant. He carefully started sifting through the top of the trash bin, trying to find something edible. Most restaurants just tossed out the food their patrons didn’t eat and often times Andrew could find enough scraps to tide him over. There was a blare of music as the door opened and the busboy walked out with a large bag in his hand.

“Hey, buddy, you…”

Andrew quickly started to walk away with his head down. He had no desire to converse with anyone and certainly didn’t want to see the pitiful look people always gave him.

“Hold on, man,” the bus boy shouted after him.

Andrew tightened his weathered jacket around his body as he exited the alley. He looked up and down the street and then towards the sky. The clouds were dark indicating that it would likely rain by evening. Andrew looked to the ground, deciding. He shoved his hand in his pocket and could tell as he wrapped his long fingers around the cash that it wasn’t enough to get a room for the night. With a sigh he headed in the direction of the nearest shelter.

After a few short blocks, he stood across the street from the large building. There was a line forming outside already. Most shelters didn’t allow people inside during the day. This particular one would allow people in at six pm. They always offered food, so the line was generally long. He crossed the street quickly and took his place next to a man in tattered clothes. He was leaning against the wall.

“Did they say how many they were letting in tonight?” Andrew asked casually.

The man shook his head, but didn’t respond further. Andrew removed his backpack and took a seat, looking up in the sky once again. He only hoped that the rain would hold off until he could actually get inside. He glanced at the man beside him. He was older and smelled badly of alcohol, urine and body odor. Andrew pulled up the collar of his jacket and lowered his head, effectively blocking out most of the stench. Nothing could block it out completely.

“Hey, get moving,” he heard as someone nudged his shoe.

Andrew blinked a few times and realized that the line was moving forward. He rose quickly, knowing that others would shove past him if he didn’t. He kept his head down as he continued to walk slowly forward until he was inside the foyer of the building.

“Name?”

Andrew hesitated.

“Sir, I need a name before you can stay here,” the woman said in a gentler tone.

“If he doesn’t want it…”

“Andrew,” he said, interrupting the man several paces behind him. “Walker,” he finished, using his mother’s maiden name.

She nodded at him and handed him a ticket. “Give that to the woman over there and then you can go through the line to get a meal. Beds are on a first come first served basis so I’d suggest that once you’re done eating you go and select your cot. Do you have any questions?”

Andrew shook his head. He’d been here before so he knew the rules. He could hear the pitter patter of the rain landing on the sidewalks outside and was thankful that he was inside. Meanwhile the woman watched as Andrew rubbed his hand against his arm. She let out a soft sigh. She hated this part but it had to be done.

“Andrew,” she waited until he looked at her again. “There’s absolutely no using in this facility. You must stay clean while in here. If you’d like assistance with quitting I can offer…”

“NO! I don’t need assistance. I’m fine,” he replied angrily, walking past her towards the food line.

He wanted to turn around and leave, but he was hungry and it was wet outside. Finding a place to sleep out of the rain would be nearly impossible. He would need to swallow what little pride he had left and stay. He handed the woman the food ticket and proceeded to pile up his plate with all they had to offer. He wasn’t sure when he would eat again so in spite of his anger he ate, everything. He then watched the doors until it was time for them to enter the sleeping quarters.

Andrew wasn’t as particular as other people were in regards to where he slept. Some men wanted the exact cot they had before, while others needed to be near one of the exits, while others would fight to be near a family member or friend. Andrew passed a few people that smelled particularly bad and settled on a cot near a woman and her young son. The boy smiled at him as he sat down.

“Hey, little man,” Andrew said casually. The boy looked down as if surprised to be spoken too.

Andrew watched him a moment and then pulled out his sketchpad. It wasn’t anything expensive, just something that he had picked up in the dollar store a few days ago, purely on a whim. He wasn’t sure what possessed him to buy the sketchpad and pencils in the first place but he did. He tore the paper off of it and shoved it in his pocket before digging for the pencils in his bag. He stared at the paper. It had been a long time since he had drawn anything.

“Do you make pictures?” the little boy asked.

He was standing right next to Andrew to his mother’s horror.

“Miquel, get over here this instant,” his mother said frantically.

Miquel found himself underneath his mom’s arms very quickly. Andrew almost told the mom it was okay, but that wouldn’t help the young boy survive on the streets. He needed to learn that he shouldn’t talk to people he didn’t know; it was dangerous. At least Miquel’s mother handled it better than Andrew’s parent’s had. He closed his eyes and winced at the memory of the beating he had received when his father had found out he had approached a stranger.