Stand Alone (35 page)

But somehow she managed to make it through the night, and in the morning was rousted by the bus depot security.

“You got a ticket to go somewhere?” questioned a woman who looked like a bulldog.

Justine yawned and shook her head.

“Well, this is no shelter, so get on your way.”

“Yeah, okay,” Justine agreed.

The woman didn’t retreat though, but instead stood over her, waiting for her to leave.

“I’m going,” Justine snapped.

The dog-faced woman just stood there and looked at her, hands on hips. Justine got up and stretched, and picked up her board and her backpack.

“I’m leaving, see?”

The woman said nothing and just watched her go. Justine left the bus depot and stepped into the cool air of the morning. She took a deep breath. She was here. Burbank. She didn’t know what she was going to do or how she was going to find her father, but she had made it. Justine’s stomach grumbled and she opened up her backpack, but knew before she did that it was empty. She’d consumed the last of her emergency stash. She was going to have to resort to other measures.

Justine skated randomly through the neighborhood for a while, getting a feel for it. It wasn’t long before she reached a retail area and found a grocery store. Justine walked around, keeping a careful eye out for security cameras or watchers. After gathering together what she needed, she made her way to the checkout counter, and put down an apple and a small carton of milk. The cashier smiled at her and scanned them through.

“Dollar-fifty, dear.”

Justine reached into her pockets, but they were empty. She checked each pocket of her backpack, and also came up dry. The cashier watched, waiting patiently. Justine swore.

“I’m sorry,” she said immediately. “Sorry about the language. It’s just
  
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I helped this kid yesterday
  
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he needed some change, to call his mom. I gave him a quarter
  
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but he must have lifted the rest of my money when I wasn’t looking. I don’t
  
…” she squeezed out a tear. “I guess I don’t have any money. I’ll put these back.”

Justine picked up the apple and the small carton of milk. The cashier reached out to stop her.

“No, no,” she insisted. “You take them. It’s okay. I’ll cover it. Why should you go hungry for helping someone else out?”

“No, I can’t take charity,” Justine insisted.

“Please. You’re down on your luck. Things will work out. You just pay it forward and help out someone else when you can. I insist. Just take it.”

Justine weighed them in her hand uncertainly.

“Really? I’ll pay you back when I get some money. That’s really nice of you, but I can’t just take your money.”

“Like I said, you just help out someone else. You’re a nice girl. You’re already helping out others when you can. I’m just doing the same. Take the food. You need it.”

Justine smiled her thanks.

“Okay. Thanks. I really appreciate it,” she said sincerely.

She walked away as the cashier cheerfully put her own money in the till and banged the drawer shut. Justine skated until she found a playground with some benches and trees for shade, and sat down to eat her breakfast. She ate the apple and milk slowly, and then opened up her backpack and checked out the rest of the food that she had lifted. She had enough for several days. And some soap to wash up, deodorant, a comb, and a few other necessities. The friendly cashier had been far more generous than she knew.

Justine spent most of the day just skating around, reconnoitering the area, trying to get a feel for the area and to decide if she wanted to stay there, or to move on to somewhere else. She still wasn’t sure by the end of the day if she would be sticking around, but she was starting to get tired. She’d had enough to eat, but she hadn’t yet rustled up a bed. She imagined there were probably some homeless shelters around, but she wasn’t sure that she wanted to go there. She had skated through a few residential areas, but hadn’t found any obviously empty houses. Maybe tomorrow she would find a house where she could set up camp. But for now
  
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her eyes were getting heavy, and she really needed somewhere that she could sleep better than in a moving car or bus depot.

Luckily the weather was still warm at night, because she hadn’t yet managed to obtain any warmer clothes. Justine wandered for a while, but didn’t find anything that looked very comfortable. Some homeless people were sleeping on the sidewalk. Eventually, she stopped in a park and curled up on a park bench. It wasn’t one of the ones with an arm in the middle to keep people from lying down on them, and it was boarded all down the back, so she could actually stretch out on it and not fall through the back. It wasn’t comfortable, but it wasn’t the ground. Justine slept with her head on her backpack and her board cuddled in her arms like a teddy bear. No one was going to steal them from her in the middle of the night.

It got colder than she had expected. Justine was up at the first light of dawn and tried to walk out the kinks and stiff muscles. Then she skated around to finish warming up. She was going to have to find something better than a park bench. And more clothes to keep comfortable. She was starting to get the idea that she hadn’t picked a really good area to be homeless in.

She didn’t see a lot of kids her age. Mostly homeless adults, and the people who worked in the stores and on the roads. The worker bees eyed her suspiciously, and she was leery of the homeless adults after her hitchhiking adventures.

Another day passed, and Justine found herself standing outside the soup kitchen, peering in through the glass of the door, trying to see what was going on.

“Are you going in, or not?” a voice demanded from behind her.

Justine turned and looked at the man standing there. A homeless man, maybe a returned soldier or something, young, ruggedly handsome under the dirt and stubble of his face.

“Um, I don’t know,” she said.

“Are you hungry?”

Justine nodded.

“Yeah, I guess,” she admitted. “But
  
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I don’t know what’s allowed. Is it for anyone? Do you have to follow certain rules?”

“Come in,” he told her, “I’ll show you the ropes.”

He entered ahead of her, and Justine followed gratefully in his wake. The young man led the way to a line of people beside a folding buffet table.

“Welcome to St. Mary’s,” said an old lady with a paper hair covering. She handed them each a bowl.

“First timer,” the man said, jerking his head in Justine’s direction. “She’s a little nervous.”

“You’re welcome here,” the woman beamed. “My name is Gladys. You let me know if you have any questions or concerns.”

Justine nodded.

“Thanks. I’m Katie.”

“I’m glad you found us, Katie. We’re happy to be able to serve you.”

Justine shrugged uncomfortably.

“Okay, sure,” she agreed.

She followed the man as he moved on up the line, and they were offered not only a bowl of hot soup, but a white bun, and a salad, and raw vegetables with dip.

“Have some,” encouraged the soldier, motioning to the vegetables.

Justine wrinkled her nose.

“I don’t like raw carrots and stuff,” she said, shaking her head.

“They’re good for you!”

“Don’t care. They’re hard to chew.”

He looked at her, grinning crookedly.

“You look liked you’ve got all of your teeth,” he laughed. “You should be able to chew.”

Justine shrugged.

“I don’t like them,” she said, and didn’t take any.

“Your loss.”

The man loaded up his plate. He looked around.

“Sometimes there are other skaters around here,” he commented. “Usually over there. Yeah—in the corner on the far wall there, see? You want me to introduce you?”

“No, that’s okay. I can manage it.”

He touched her on the arm as she stepped toward the group of kids.

“They’re troublemakers sometimes,” he warned. “Rule breakers. So
  
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you might want to be careful.”

Justine nodded.

“Yeah, thanks.”

She walked over to where the other skaters were gathered. She didn’t know any of them, and didn’t know how they would react to her. She hovered close by. One of the boys looked up and glanced over her.

“You skate?” he questioned, nodding at her board.

Justine nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Pull up a seat.”

Justine sat in one of the empty seats near them.

“Thanks.”

She put her tray down on the table, and her board under her seat, and started to eat, looking from one member of the group to the other.

“What’s your handle?” the boy who had invited her over questioned.

“Katie.”

“I’m Dickie.”

He indicated the various other members of the group, shooting off their names so quickly it was impossible for Justine to identify them. She nodded like she got them all.

“You new around here?” a blond girl with a knitted toque questioned.

“Yeah. Just rolled in a couple of days ago.”

“Cool.”

There was a sudden ruckus across the room. Everybody looked up to see what was going on. A hefty woman in a paper cap was hauling a skinny kid from a hallway beside the kitchen, shunting him toward the outside door. She was shouting at him, but Justine couldn’t make out what she was saying. Some of the skater kids started laughing.

“What’s going on?” Justine questioned.

“She caught Needles shooting up in the can,” a boy with a tattoo over half of his face explained. “Drug-free zone.”

Justine nodded. She looked around at them.

“So what’s he doing shooting up here, if they check the restrooms?”

“’Cause when you’re jonesing, you’re jonesing. Doesn’t matter where you are.”

Justine spooned her soup, which was pretty good. She’d been so long without a hot meal, it really hit the spot. After the woman pushed Needles out the door, she walked purposefully over to the corner the skaters were eating in.

“You kids have been warned. No bringing drugs in here. You’re banned.”

None of the kids moved.

“Out!” she insisted. “You can’t eat here anymore. We’re not putting up with drugs here.”

“Chill, Sister,” the tattooed boy said. “We didn’t do anything.”

“One of you breaks the rules, you’re all out. I’m not putting up with drugs around here.”

She grabbed hold of Dickie and pulled him to his feet. He was just about done eating, and just stood there looking at her.

“Out!” she repeated. “All of you. We’re not going to feed you here. Good honest people come here. Not drug addicts.”

Dickie jerked his head at the other skaters, and they obediently got up and followed him out of the room. Justine continued to eat her soup, ignoring their exodus.

“You too, missy,” the woman said, poking her.

Justine looked up at her.

“It’s my first time here,” she said. “I wasn’t with him.”

“Skaters out. No drugs allowed here.”

“I don’t have any drugs,” Justine said, shrugging, and not looking up from her soup, which she continued to spoon quickly before they could physically throw her out. “I’m not here with the others.”

The woman prodded her again.

“Go on. You’re not welcome here.”

Justine jerked away from her touch.

“If one black guy did drugs back there, would you kick out all the black guys? That’s not fair! I’ve never even seen the guy before.”

The severe woman looked at Justine.

“You’re pretty intent on staying here, are you?”

Justine wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

“I don’t know when the last time I had a real meal was,” she said. “I just want to eat.”

The bulldog of a woman softened slightly.

“You poor child. All right. Stay and finish. But if you’re going to hang out with those kids, or try to come in here with them, then you’re not going to be eating here again. Got it?”

Justine just turned her attention back to her food.

Later, Justine stepped out of the soup kitchen and stretched, loosening up her muscles. Looking around, she could see the small group of skaters doing tricks off of the stairs in front of the municipal building across the street. She glanced left and right at the traffic and darted across the street. There were a few honks, but nothing came close to hitting her. Dickie landed cleanly and watched her approach.

“Don’t tell me the dragon lady actually let you stay and eat,” he said.

Justine nodded.

“Sure. I’m such a sweet little thing, don’t you know?”

He grinned at her.

“So, you been boarding long?” he questioned, his eyes on the other kids doing stunts.

Justine shrugged.

“A few years. I don’t do a lot of tricks, though. They’re just my wheels to get from one place to another.”

He nodded understandingly.

“Sure,” he agreed. “Well, come and join us. Show us what you got.”

He gestured at the others. Justine surveyed the furniture, sorting out what she wanted to do. She warmed up a bit with some ramps and smallish jumps and grinds. Then she took a jump off of the upper flight of steps, and attempted a three-sixty flip. She managed the move, but barely kept her board on the landing, coming down hard and swaying off balance as she tried to settle it again.

“Nice,” the blond girl approved.

“Pretty good,” agreed a diminutive redhead boy, giving her a big freckled smile.

Justine tousled his already-messy mop and said ‘thanks.’

Without much more being said, she was accepted into the small band of skaters. She could skate, that was all that was needed.

“Some groups are harder to break into,” Rooster informed Justine sometime later in the day. “Some of them think they’re real gangs, with initiations and all. Gotta know the secret handshake,” he laughed. “But us
  
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hey, we just love to skate. That’s all. Don’t care who you are or where you came from. You got the skills, or the drive, and you can hang out with us. Doesn’t matter if you’re a ten year old trying to nail your first ollie. That’s okay.”