Chapter Seventeen #2
“Look, Wes. See the men huddled around the bonfire? Let’s start with one wee group and take it from there.”
Sure enough, several people encircled a fifty-five-gallon oil drum where someone had lit a fire. The flames were visible well above the rim and the people around it stood with outstretched hands to soak up the heat.
“I somehow don’t think they’re gonna be friendly if we want to get close.”
Patsy shook his head. “Just need to be close enough to talk to some folks and there’s plenty of ‘em there.”
“Okay.” We headed off in that direction as Patsy updated Captain Sorensen on the plan.
“Roger, Patsy. Stay safe,” the Captain said.
“Hampstead and I are thirty feet behind you,” Napoleon’s deep voice said in the earwigs. “Don’t look back, Wes,” he said as I began to do just that.
“Sorry,” I said, immediately feeling stupid as I faced forward. The low chuckle that followed my apology didn’t make me feel any better. I wasn’t sure who it was since the party line had a lot of people listening in, but I promised myself I’d try to do better.
“New situation for him, yer, eejits.” Patsy said quietly.
“Roger,” Napoleon’s deep voice replied, “sorry.”
I shrugged off my embarrassment as we walked toward the overpass, stopping when we were about fifteen feet away from the oil drum.
The men standing around it, looked up as Patsy turned to me and nodded.
I swallowed and looked back at the crowd before walking closer.
“Do you mind if we share your fire?” I asked an elderly man.
“Come on over,” he said, giving me a lopsided smile as he stepped sideways, opening a narrow spot where we could squeeze in.
I noticed the smell of unwashed bodies almost immediately.
It instantly brought me back to my time spent in the Hollywood homeless encampment.
A sign that it didn’t matter what part of the world you lived in…
lack of proper plumbing and running water and bitter poverty always produced the same results.
“Thank you,” I said, holding out hands I’d put into fingerless gloves. “Feels nice on a night like this.”
“Been cold but at least it ain’t rainin’,” the elderly man drawled in a southern accent. He smiled again, showing me a mouthful of brown teeth. “Cleeves.”
“Pardon?” I asked.
He held out a grimy hand. “Jack Cleeves.”
“Oh…ah, my name is Wes,” I said, shaking his hand.
Cleeves glanced at Patsy before holding out his hand.
Patsy took it, remaining silent. “His name is Pat,” I said, shortening his name as we’d agreed.
“He doesn’t talk much.” The man simply nodded as he looked Patsy up and down as though he was searching for a reason why.
“New to the camp?” Cleeves asked.
I nodded. “Ah, yes, first night here, in fact. We—ah…Pat and I—used to live at River Bottom in Ventura,” I replied, confident in the correct name of a homeless encampment Captain Sorensen had described on the ride over in the FBI S.W.A.T. vehicle.
“Ventura, huh?” the man on the far side of Cleeves asked. “Why’d you come east?”
“Personally, I was very tired of being run off by police,” I said. “I lost a nice tent that way.”
Both men nodded sagely. “Yeah, it’s getting harder and harder just to live,” the man said before spitting out a gob of brown liquid. I hadn’t even realized he had a bulge of chewing tobacco in his lower lip until just now.
We all turned back to the fire, remaining silent for a few minutes. Patsy shifted beside me, giving me my cue. I glanced around. “Have you been living here long?”
“Too long,” Cleeves said.
I waited for him to elaborate, and when he didn’t, I felt somewhat lost. I needed people to be more forthcoming about their lives, which I should know was probably foolish. It took time for people to open up and I couldn’t just say, “Hey, seen any serial killers lately?”
“Ask them if you’re the only strangers to come around lately,” a voice said in the earwigs. “Maybe that’ll make them open up about the camp residents.” That time I recognized the deep voice as belonging to Napoleon.
“So, are we the only newcomers?” I asked, staring into the fire as I tried to make the query sound casual.
“People come and go,” Cleeves said.
“True.” Boy, these guys were a fucking font of knowledge. I’d forgotten how hard this was. I looked around again. “Mostly men here, huh?”
Cleeves and his friend eyeballed me with frowns.
“You come here lookin’ for women?” As I considered how to answer the question, Cleeves glanced around.
“Bein’ truthful…there ain’t many I’d bed,” the old man said with a grin.
“The youngin’s got kids and stick to themselves. Don’t want you a piece of that.”
I shook my head. “No, I didn’t mean that. I only meant to say, I’ve noticed a lot of men, but not a lot of women here. It was more mixed at Ventura.”
The old man frowned at me. “You talk like you come out of a boardroom like one o’ them CEOs. Cultured like. Why ain’t you workin’? Got yourself a job?”
I opted for the truth. “My mother died a while back and only too late, I realized she’d mortgaged the house to the gills after my dad died.
I took care of her when she was sick and had to quit my job when I went from being a part-time caregiver to having to stay with her all the time.
I rapidly went through my savings and by the time she’d passed, the bank owned her house and they’d repo’ed my car.
I lived in my mom’s car for a while, but the cops impounded it, so I was…
well…as you see, living out on the street. ”
“Educated guy like you can’t get another job?” the other man asked.
I shook my head. “Unfortunately, I’m a mathematician, so finding a job isn’t easy.
After I became homeless, I packed everything I owned into my car.
As I’m sure you know, it’s hard enough to find a decent job in a shrinking economy, much less one in a university setting or research environment which is where people in my profession are usually employed. ”
Patsy nudged me and I glanced over. He gave me an exaggerated eyeroll.
I didn’t know how to interpret that, but I realized I’d long since strayed off topic.
I gave him an imperceptible nod and then looked around a little bit.
“I…ah…haven’t seen anyone around here that I know,” I said as I returned my attention to them.
“New here, right?”
I realized my error and immediately corrected myself. “Yes, it’s just…there was a guy at River Bottom…the kind who makes you feel unsettled. I was hoping I wouldn’t see him here. You know that type?”
Both men nodded. “Yeah, we know the type, but River Bottom’s a long way away, son,” Cleeves said, “so I doubt he’d be ‘round here.”
I felt my heart start to race. “I’d like to avoid them…those types, I mean…if there are any like that around here.”
“Yeah,” Cleeves drawled. “Good to avoid them types, but there’s too many to count like that ‘round here.”
“Most of them are on drugs,” the other guy said. “Stay away from those. They’re dangerous.”
“No doubt,” I said.
“Ask them to point them out to you, Wes,” Captain Sorensen said in the earwig.
“It would be nice if you could point them out,” I said. “I’d like to avoid them.”
“Like I said, too many to point out,” Cleeves reiterated.
“And I’d try and stay away from the crazies too.
Tons of those kinds here.” He exchanged a glance with his friend before looking back with a wide grin.
“One guy walks around muttering to himself about Rapunzel, so pretty all the time.” Both men laughed and I assumed it had to be an inside joke of some kind.
Patsy nudged me again and I looked over. He canted his head, telling me it was time to move on. I nodded and glanced back at the two. “Well, thanks for talking to me, fellas. Keep an eye out for those troublemakers.”
Cleeves smiled again, sticking out his hand. “See you around, Wes.” I shook his hand and we turned, walking away from the fire. When we were out of earshot, I glanced at Patsy. “I’m so sorry. That wasn’t helpful at all.”
“Don’t worry,” Patsy said, smiling at me. His blue eyes were gorgeous, glittering like a million stars in the moonlight.
“You did fine, Wes,” Napoleon said in the earwig. “It looks quiet around here. I doubt we’re gonna be successful in getting anyone else to open up to us tonight.”
“Agreed, Smith,” the captain said. “You did good, Mr. Chaudry. We’ll try again tomorrow.”
I glanced at Patsy, and he nodded. “We’re goin’ to sign off, Candy. Napoleon’s right. These people aren’t feelin’ chatty and there’s hardly anyone about.”
“Get some rest, guys.”
“Thanks,” Patsy said. He reached up and touched a hand to his ear, and I realized he’d muted his earwig, so I did the same. We pocketed them as we kept walking back toward the tent.
I glanced down at him as we meandered down the street.
It was still early enough to get into mischief if we wanted to, but I knew that wouldn’t happen, at least until we’d finished with this mess.
There was also the matter of figuring out who those men who’d chased me out onto the roof were, and the niggling suspicion that my missing driver’s license had something to do with all this.
In the short period of time since I’d met Patsy, those events seemed far away now that this new adventure had begun.
As we neared the tent, I felt the call of Mother Nature and almost cringed at the knowledge I’d be forced to use one of the dreaded portable toilets before settling down for the night.
“I need to make a detour,” I told Patsy, nodding to the line of Andy Gumps, then noticed the way he visibly shuddered.
“Yeah, sorry to say it, but I do too,” he said. “Well, best we do it now, before we turn in.”
We veered off, stepping onto the crushed grass from the main, muddy path, and walked in between two tents before being hit by the smell.
I’d never known the scent of an open sewer until I’d spent time out on the streets, and never so bad as when I’d spent time at the other encampment.
The scent of unwashed masses paled in comparison to the places where they were expected to relieve themselves.
I took a deep breath and stepped through the first door I came to, hearing it bang close behind me as I scrambled to undo my pants.
I held my breath, practically turning blue before I was done and then made my exit just as quickly, grateful it was dark and cold, and not sunny and hot which always made it worse.
Patsy was already waiting outside the one beside mine, probably feeling the pull to get away from them as fast as I was.
We walked side by side toward our tent, taking in deep gulps of fresh air as we approached the narrow path between the tents to get to ours.
The second we stepped into the road, I noticed a short man lingering near our tent.
I felt Patsy stiffen beside me. The man had his back to us, but he appeared to be looking at the front zipper of the tent.
He must have heard us coming across the road because he seemed to startle at some noise then looked over his shoulder.
His eyes grew so wide in the dark, I could see the whites of them.
He blinked fast and then turned, scurrying quickly away as he disappeared back into the depths of the camp between tents and cardboard hovels.
“That was weird,” I remarked as we walked up to the tent. Patsy held out a hand as I stooped to grab the zipper pull.
“Wait!” he said, sharply.
I began to straighten as he abruptly squatted down to look at something.
On the outside of the tent, near the entrance, was a small object I recognized immediately.
I bent to grab it, but Patsy put his arm out to stop me.
“That’s my mother’s Bible,” I said. “What’s it doing out here?
It was in my backpack. I had it in the front pocket. ”
“Someone took it out of yer bag, Wes. It’s best I collect it with gloves.” He inserted his earwigs as he stared into my eyes, urging me to obey him as I pulled out my own set and inserted them. I nodded as he began to speak. “Candy? Come in.”
“Roger, Patsy. What’s up?”
“Candy, someone’s been in the tent. It isn’t fully zipped and a Bible that Wes had in his bag is outside the tent on the ground. I’ll be needin’ some gloves to collect it but they’re in my pack inside. A man was loiterin’ outside when we got here.”
“Okay. Enter with caution, Patsy, and collect it with gloves. If someone left fingerprints, we’ll have them.”
“Roger.” Patsy reached up and muted the earwig, still looking at me. “Ya heard that?”
“Yes,” I said, muting my own com. “Do you think someone stole our things?”
“No, luv, but I’m not waitin’ to find out.” He stooped to open the zipper, but I stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “What is it?”
“I love you, Patsy,” I blurted.
His expression softened as he lifted a hand to cup my cheek. A tiny smile curled his mouth. “And I love ya too, Wes.”