“Now why would a young fella like you have to make a living? Where are your parents?”
“I’m just trying to help out my parents,” I lied to the pepper haired man.
The man looked behind me at the setting sun.
“Shouldn’t it be about quitting time? Are your folks going to come and get you or would you like a ride home?”
“No mister, my parents taught me not to take ride from strangers,” I lied again.
Unbidden memories popped up of my mom tilting a dark blue glass bottle all the way back. Her tongue stretching like the giraffe on my grandmother’s walls looking for another drop of liquid. Dad’s eyes were mostly closed with a piece of rubber still tied around it. I had my backpack on and climbed onto the fire escape quietly closing the window behind me praying they wouldn’t hear. I went home a few times to check if anyone was looking, but they were still there where I had left them. There was no time to look for Jason Hayles.
“Okay son, I’ll stay here and wait with you until they arrive.”
I stood there shaking about to run away when the man looked at me. He took off his coat and put it around me through the window. It was thick, warm, black wool that reached me down to my ankle, because I was so small. Tears ran down my face as my lips twisted upward. The man got out of his car handing me another lighter fabric and showed me how to use it to wipe my face. I wrapped my arms around his wide frame and continued crying and smiling.
“Why are you crying little one?”
“I’m not waiting for anybody”
“Do you want that ride then?”
“I don’t have anywhere to go.”
The old man looked at me speechless, trying to find the appropriate words to say to me.
“Son there is a restaurant across the road I could get you something to eat while we try and work things out”, he said while placing his hand on my shoulder.
I stood there looking at the man trying to find the right words to say. I was hesitant to respond to his request. I nodded taking his outstretched hand. He locked the car and we walked toward the orange glowing lights smelling freshly baking bread from the restaurant. This has to be the smell of new beginnings.