like that, and we found ourselves walking on the dusty shoulder of a two-way road. To our right, across the street, was a park where harried mothers yelled at their children to stop kicking dirt in the faces of the other harried mothers’ children, and to our left, an abandoned VFW hall that looked like it had seen far, far better days.
Jess clapped her hands together. “Perfect!”
My arms got tired and I was forced to lower the tray back down as I followed her around the back of the abandoned VFW.
“Jess, this is how nice girls like us get killed,” I said, but she ignored me, so I continued mumbling to myself over the crunch-crunch of our Keds on the gravel. “Oh, yes, Saint Peter. Thanks so much for sending your angel to get me hacked to pieces while committing random acts of hello-Mr.-Serial-Killer—”
“Yay!” Jess hopped up on her toes and turned to me and snatched a bag off the tray, her eyes alight. “Watch! This is so much fun!”
I peered around the back of the building. Dumpsters. Of course, it had to be Dumpsters. The bottom half of the world’s skinniest man poked out of one, and Jess ducked with agility as a crumpled beer can whizzed past her head and straight onto a pile of recyclables forming about two feet away.
“Good morning!” she called out.
The man hopped up out of the dumpster, landing on his feet. He looked warily from Jess to me, then back again.
“What do you want with me?” he growled.
“Nothing. Sorry. Our mistake,” I said, taking a step back.
Jess moved toward him, holding out the bag. “We thought you might be hungry.”
“I don’t need no handouts,” he said, nodding toward the worn-out bicycle resting behind the dumpster. Behind it was a very sad-looking wagon fashioned from warped plywood and chicken wire which held clear plastic bags full of recyclables. “I make my own way.”
“Of course you do.” I shifted the tray on to one arm, stepped forward and snatched a handful of Jess’s denim jacket in my hand. “He makes his own way. Let’s go.”
Jess eyed me until I released her, then stepped closer. “It’s not for you. It’s for us. My friend and I have been having a bad couple of days, and we really need to do something kind for someone. We’ve been all over this town, and there’s just no one who needs us, and the sandwiches are getting cold. It would really help if you’d take one.”
He watched us for a long moment, the eyes in his haggard face narrowing to slits. I was pretty sure he was going to pull out a knife and fillet us both, and I was going to die unmourned behind a VFW somewhere between Kansas City and the fifth ring of hell. When he reached into his pocket, I squealed and jumped back.
He stared at me, hand still in his pocket. “What’s wrong with your friend?”
“Bad couple of days,” Jess said. He watched me with suspicious eyes as he pulled a dirty quarter out of his pocket and handed it to Jess.
“I pay my way,” he said.
Jess smiled, took it gratefully and handed him the bag. “Thank you so much. We really appreciate it.”
“Yes, thanks so much.” I grabbed her elbow and pulled her around with me until we were safe in the sunlight on the dirty shoulder of the road. “So, where does the natural high come from? Is it like a bungee-jumping thing, you work off the adrenalin your body produces when you narrowly escape getting strangled to death with chicken wire?”
She laughed. “He wasn’t going to hurt us. Most of the truly dangerous people in the world have jobs.”
I couldn’t argue with that. I was too focused on the fact that we had five bags left, and not another homeless person in sight. I glanced across the street at Harried Mom Park.
“Lots of hungry moms. We can unload the rest of these and get on the road. Let’s go.”
I stopped when I felt Jess’s hand on my arm. “But they’re not... I mean, they’ve probably already had breakfast.”
“Are you kidding?” I said. “Moms never have
Jess clapped her hands together. “Perfect!”
My arms got tired and I was forced to lower the tray back down as I followed her around the back of the abandoned VFW.
“Jess, this is how nice girls like us get killed,” I said, but she ignored me, so I continued mumbling to myself over the crunch-crunch of our Keds on the gravel. “Oh, yes, Saint Peter. Thanks so much for sending your angel to get me hacked to pieces while committing random acts of hello-Mr.-Serial-Killer—”
“Yay!” Jess hopped up on her toes and turned to me and snatched a bag off the tray, her eyes alight. “Watch! This is so much fun!”
I peered around the back of the building. Dumpsters. Of course, it had to be Dumpsters. The bottom half of the world’s skinniest man poked out of one, and Jess ducked with agility as a crumpled beer can whizzed past her head and straight onto a pile of recyclables forming about two feet away.
“Good morning!” she called out.
The man hopped up out of the dumpster, landing on his feet. He looked warily from Jess to me, then back again.
“What do you want with me?” he growled.
“Nothing. Sorry. Our mistake,” I said, taking a step back.
Jess moved toward him, holding out the bag. “We thought you might be hungry.”
“I don’t need no handouts,” he said, nodding toward the worn-out bicycle resting behind the dumpster. Behind it was a very sad-looking wagon fashioned from warped plywood and chicken wire which held clear plastic bags full of recyclables. “I make my own way.”
“Of course you do.” I shifted the tray on to one arm, stepped forward and snatched a handful of Jess’s denim jacket in my hand. “He makes his own way. Let’s go.”
Jess eyed me until I released her, then stepped closer. “It’s not for you. It’s for us. My friend and I have been having a bad couple of days, and we really need to do something kind for someone. We’ve been all over this town, and there’s just no one who needs us, and the sandwiches are getting cold. It would really help if you’d take one.”
He watched us for a long moment, the eyes in his haggard face narrowing to slits. I was pretty sure he was going to pull out a knife and fillet us both, and I was going to die unmourned behind a VFW somewhere between Kansas City and the fifth ring of hell. When he reached into his pocket, I squealed and jumped back.
He stared at me, hand still in his pocket. “What’s wrong with your friend?”
“Bad couple of days,” Jess said. He watched me with suspicious eyes as he pulled a dirty quarter out of his pocket and handed it to Jess.
“I pay my way,” he said.
Jess smiled, took it gratefully and handed him the bag. “Thank you so much. We really appreciate it.”
“Yes, thanks so much.” I grabbed her elbow and pulled her around with me until we were safe in the sunlight on the dirty shoulder of the road. “So, where does the natural high come from? Is it like a bungee-jumping thing, you work off the adrenalin your body produces when you narrowly escape getting strangled to death with chicken wire?”
She laughed. “He wasn’t going to hurt us. Most of the truly dangerous people in the world have jobs.”
I couldn’t argue with that. I was too focused on the fact that we had five bags left, and not another homeless person in sight. I glanced across the street at Harried Mom Park.
“Lots of hungry moms. We can unload the rest of these and get on the road. Let’s go.”
I stopped when I felt Jess’s hand on my arm. “But they’re not... I mean, they’ve probably already had breakfast.”
“Are you kidding?” I said. “Moms never have
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