Homeless (15 page)

“Then I can't promise you I'll keep my mouth closed. You gonna have to give me something, homeboy. Now that I've got something on you, you've gotta do something for me. You know how this goes.” The homeless woman, not used to having the upper hand, wasn't about to let up on the one person that she could actually get something for nothing from. Having sucked a lot of strange men's penises, stolen from stores for diapers and formula, and even stuck drugs up her coochie for a pimp, blackmailing someone didn't make her feel shameful but powerful. “Tell me what you trying to part with then, nigga. 'Cause I ain't walking away with nothing.”

Thinking for a second, Lonnie thought about the stash he had at home and offered her ten of the pills plus some of the 1800. It wouldn't be a loss to him since it was first Kevin's anyway, but he wasn't about to give her all of his stash, leaving him fidgeting to get high. Nor was he about to make a deal he couldn't keep up. Lonnie had to get his way. He continued to play the woman. To make the offer sound sweeter, he told her he'd bring the pills she wanted back tonight. “I can be back before the shelter closes; and you won't have to wait a week to get a fix.”

The offer, not as great as what she presented, sounded sweet to the homeless woman's ears nonetheless. At least the part about getting the pills later tonight did. Before accepting, she brought the money back up because she realized he hadn't. “What about the twenty? I'ma need that.”

“What about five more pills? I'll double up on Tylenols to get by, but I ain't got no cash or nothing else to offer,”

Lonnie countered her request with that being his final offer. Not being difficult, stingy, or trying to get over on the woman who held a piece of his fate, Lonnie couldn't offer money he didn't have.

“Ten more, so that'll be twenty,” she tried her luck.

“Five,” Lonnie was firm, which shook the homeless woman into thinking his next response would be to forget their deal altogether because she'd pushed it.

Not wanting to miss the opportunity to get high altogether, she shook hands with Lonnie, giving him the pills back at the same time. “Don't play me. If you don't come back tonight, I'll be in Miss Humphrey's office bright and early by nine a.m.”

Lonnie, hating that he was backed into a corner and being blackmailed by a homeless woman with less than him, knew he was about to do the woman the same way he'd done the homeless woman yesterday. “Don't worry. We've got a deal, and I've got you,” he responded to her with ill intentions.

Satisfied with his answer, she spun around and tried opening the door while pushing the baby's stroller in at the same time. She bumped the wall, stirred the baby, and cursed for the little one to go back to sleep. Witnessing the woman being such a detached mother made Lonnie dislike what the so-called woman represented even more. He wondered where all the good women were at that his mom told him he'd one day find. Seeing the homeless woman struggle, Lonnie turned and walked the other way. He refused to lend one hand to help her manipulative ass. When he did lay a hand on her, it would be to kill.

Lonnie found himself at a gas station near the liquor store asking if he could pump gas for whatever people could spare. Only needing a few dollars to get a pint of gin, he wasn't planning on buying the bum his own personal shot but giving him a few pours into the cup he carried. Lonnie wasn't willing to be the bum's sponsor with his own addictions needing nourishment. After pumping gas, sweeping the lot clean of glass and debris for the attendant, and emptying the trash cans, Lonnie walked away ten bucks richer. It burned a hole in his pocket all the way to the liquor store.

* * *

At home, Lonnie drank and drank, then drank some more. With the bottle of gin he'd hustled up on almost gone, he drank it down till he couldn't get another drop out, then licked the rim. Lonnie had been lost in his thoughts and trying to stop the voices since getting home from the shelter. He couldn't control when they'd talk to him or for how long. All he knew was that they stalked him, screamed over each other, and made his head throb. He was back to doubling up on over-the-counter painkillers.

In front of the TV, he slid his hand inside his sweaty drawers and kicked back to relax. He tried to enjoy the peace of his apartment, even though he wasn't going to have it much longer. Serving his community service hours day in and out was like a prequel to the life he was about to live, back within the shelter and scrambling for the food in the soup kitchen. Relieving the nightmare of being cooped up with a bunch of men again shook Lonnie into a dark place.

Nothing about the day had gone right. First, taking a shot to get over the stress, humiliation, and anger he'd dealt with for six hours while Amanda watched over his shoulder, then went through his work with a fine-tooth comb. Lonnie then took a shot for how his day ended. Hours had passed, and he still couldn't figure out a way up out of the fucked-up situation other than to kill. Since the other woman hadn't been discovered, Lonnie felt confident that he could get away with committing the crime again.

No matter how hard he tried thinking the day away, time kept ticking closer and closer to eleven p.m. That's what time he had to meet back up with the lady from the homeless shelter this Tuesday night. To say he wasn't looking forward to it wasn't an explanation enough. He wished he hadn't taken the pills out of his pocket in the first place, especially since there wasn't a search done of his person as expected. Trying to outsmart the system, the slick young man ended up outsmarting himself.

Lonnie was downright pissed about the woman having something to hold over his head. He hadn't done anything the whole day but his tasks underneath Amanda's management, yet still found himself in the middle of some bullshit. Mentally adding her to the list of women whom he wished the worst in life for, Lonnie hoped that was the one wish the universe would grant him.

The caretaker's girlfriend, the daughter of the funeral home director, rat-ass Megan, the dean of students at the college, and even the judge all had something in common. They all had a hand in ruining his life. Not one time had they been nurturing to him like his mother told him the softer sex should be. Lonnie drank each time he thought about how each of the women played their roles of being completely heartless to him. Not once did they offer support, their condolences, or even a pat on the back accompanied by an encouraging word. They all had been completely heartless to him losing his mother, purposely being the worst possible human beings that they could be to him. All except Trina, who hadn't answered not one of his twenty calls. He was now almost out of minutes. He sank into an even deeper place. Crushing the can of liquor with his hand, he tossed it across the room feeling rage build up inside of him. If given the opportunity, he would've snapped all their necks.

Lonnie's mind drifted back to the day his mom died, how he felt at the hospital standing in the room with her dead body, and how she suffered so many months before living her last day. Tears gathered, then fell out of his eyes and down his face uncontrollably when he remembered how she would be bent over in pain, crying in agony, and then thanking the Lord when the worst part passed. Lonnie prayed she'd send down some of her strength, forgetting to say Amen. He wished he had Trina to talk to, since she knew firsthand how it was to lose someone to cancer.

The prescription pills he got illegally had Lonnie's personality splitting. He was up, then down; happy, then sad. The walls in his apartment began closing in. The air was stale and stagnant, accompanied by the musty stench lingering on him from sweating all day. Growing nauseated, Lonnie was making himself sick. With one hour remaining before meet up time, he showered and groomed himself as best he could, but really didn't care because he didn't have even the slightest interest in the broad. Part of him started not to meet up with her and let whatever would happen, happen. But Lonnie didn't want another woman dictating his future.

Dumping all the pills onto the nightstand in his room, he handpicked fifteen and put them back into the bag. To help his nerves, he popped an Abilify to help with the voices, and an Adderall to give him energy. Washing them down with water, Lonnie left the X-pill alone, as he wasn't attracted to the homeless woman enough to be horny or even want a piece of her ass. It was Trina he was stimulated by who was blowing in the wind.

This trip into the night was strictly to get a woman off head. Making sure the pills were in his pocket to lure the woman where he needed her to be, Lonnie grabbed the other things he'd need for the night: his music, the headphones, and the box cutter he now claimed as his own.

It wasn't until Lonnie was on the bus did he start feeling woozy and drained from all the liquor and pills he'd popped in such a short amount of time. Having a bubbling stomach, he feared he wasn't going to be able to make it to the shelter by eleven. A determined Lonnie pushed on, however, making it to his stop. It was then that he rushed to the nearest restaurant in sight to relieve himself in their bathroom and drink some water from their sink.

Lonnie rocked, strained, and grunted on the public toilet, but nothing came out. His stomach was burning as it tried digesting and moving food throughout its system but couldn't because the overconsumption of drugs had it malfunctioning. Lonnie was constipated to the point of making him sick, which was another side effect of him taking Adderall. Sticking his finger down his throat, he threw up forcefully into the trash can and felt an instant flush of relief. It took another ten minutes or so for him to get himself completely together. Not thinking he was getting the maximum effect of the Adderall, he decided to break half of one of the X-pills down to a half to help boost his high. Lonnie didn't realize his body was pushing for him to stop.

Calling Trina again, Lonnie punched the bathroom stall door when he heard the generic message say the caller couldn't be reached yet again. Although en route to handle his business, it was bothering him that she hadn't called.

“Yo, everything good in there?” a worker from the restaurant called into the lavatory after hearing a loud noise.

“Yeah, I'll be out in a second,” Lonnie yelled back, then turned on the faucet, scooping up another few handfuls of water.

Walking from the restaurant toward the shelter, Lonnie made sure to keep his eyes and ears open as he was in an unfamiliar territory and surroundings. He hadn't felt uncomfortable in the daytime, but had a gut-wrenching feeling in the pit of his stomach that was making him feel nervous about being around there now. Digging his hands deeper into his hoodie pockets, he felt the pills in his right one for the woman; and his weapon in the other.

A few minutes past eleven, Lonnie lingered across the street from the shelter but in the darkness of the shadows so he couldn't be seen. They hadn't discussed the exact way they'd meet up; yet, Lonnie knew he wasn't about to walk up to the place he was ordered to be at by the judge with illegal narcotics on him to pass to a person living at the shelter. For him to have an addiction that he was breaking rules to feed was one thing. To be aiding the addiction of another person could come with circumstances the already-troubled youth wasn't ready to deal with. Agreeing to bring the homeless lady the pills in the first place was a bold—and bad—move.

Had Lonnie trusted women and not been disturbed by their kind constantly trying to destroy him, he would've told Miss Humphrey the truth and faced his consequences like a man.

Watching his surroundings and the shelter like a hawk, Lonnie didn't want to miss a footstep, a movement, or a mouse scurrying across the open play area for the kids. With the windows of the shelter cracked, he could hear the children playing inside as their mothers fussed at them to settle down for bed. Hearing the many versions of families, Lonnie thought of his own memories. He remembered his mom saying he was a ball of energy at night, but she appreciated the company even still. His mom. The thought of brighter days saddened Lonnie. If only he could live in the past.

Lonnie's phone vibrated. Moving his attention to the call, he saw that it was Trina finally calling him back. He huffed and started not to answer, but decided to anyway. “Well, hello, stranger,” he said upon hitting the answer button.

“Nothing much but a whole lot of drama. You know how I told you my dad was in the hospital?”

“Yeah,” Lonnie replied, looking around and wishing she'd spit out whatever it was she had to say.

“Well, he was faking an illness so we could stay somewhere warm and get food, but the shit ended up backfiring in the worst way imaginable. Come to find out, he's got some type of autoimmune disease and they're running a bunch of tests to determine which one. I couldn't even finish getting the 411 because the nurse caught me eating his food and put me out. I told you all of that to ask if you've got a couch I can crash on for the night.” In tears and desperate, Trina was in a state of shock and simply wanted some companionship. Each step she took into the night alone, the more she feared she wouldn't make it until daylight. Always having her dad, Trina had never been on her own.

Totally thrown off by Trina's story about her dad, Lonnie zoned out into a trance about his mom and the day she got her diagnosis. The dreary feelings overcame him. Although Trina kept saying hello in his ear, Lonnie was too far lost in the memory. He recalled his mother walking into the doctor's office strong as an ox with a few sick days here and there . . . but coming out transformed into a sickly patient that required checkups every two weeks. Trina's life kept reminding him of his mom in some sort of way.

“I'm sorry to hear that, Trina. Hopefully, the doctors are quacks. Make sure you and your dad get several opinions,” he offered her the same advice he and his mother were given and had been let down believing in.

“Whatever. I'm not trying to hear that bullshit. You and I both know that once they label you as sick, the coffin shopping might as well commence.” Trina sounded grave but was keeping it real. “I'm sorry if it don't sound like I'm grateful for your kind word, but you know how it is.” Full of emotions and spiraling out of control, Trina was starting to lose her composure. Not upset at Lonnie at all, but the fact that the man who stayed to raise her after her mother cheated and deserted them was sick with something incurable—All she wanted was for today to be yesterday and for the future to never come.

Lonnie sighed. “Had I only played the game like you're playing it and accepted the shit much sooner . . .” His tone was so low that Trina barely heard it. What she did hear was that he'd text her his address. Those words soothed her anxiety like a lullaby does to a baby.

Lonnie's voice was caught in his throat. The pill-popping teen was scared. Far out of his mind, his personality kept flip-flopping in between that of a good and bad guy. Knowing how the night hours were for him, he didn't know what type of monster would emerge. Yet and still, he was tired of being lonely.