Finding Home (4 page)

“That’s smart,” Megan said. “But, Ricky, I’d really like to ask Elf these questions.”

“Oh, sure.” Ricky subsided into silence except for his fingers drumming the table.

“What made you leave home?” she asked Elf.
“It was bad there.”

All right. This kid made Mouth look talkative.
“Can you tell me something specifically that happened?”

He sat looking at his hands.
“Maybe what happened the day you left?”
“There was a fight.” He pronounced it “faa-ght” with a Southern drawl. “My step-dad was beatin‘ on me and I had enough of it, so I left.” She waited to see if he would add more and was rewarded with a further confidence. “He done other things to me besides hit me, though, and that’s the part I couldn’t take no more.”

“He abused you sexually?”

He shrugged.

Megan thought it ironic he’d escaped abuse by his stepfather only to have sex with countless strangers.

“Where are you originally from?”

“I was born in Tennessee, but we lived in Texas the longest. We been all over. My dad was in the army before he got killed.”

“When was that?”
“Two years ago. A car accident.”
“Your mom re-married.”

He nodded. “And we moved to Sacramento.”
“When did he start abusing you?”
“I don’t like to talk about all that.” He looked down at the tabletop, his jaw clenched and thin shoulders hunched.

“Okay.” She was afraid to push further. “How did you end up in
L.A.?”
“A friend of mine moved down here and I thought maybe I could find him and stay with his family, but that didn’t work out.”
“How long were you on your own before you hooked up with Ricky?” “‘Bout a week.”

Ricky couldn’t suppress himself any longer. “Then I took him in hand. On the street, it’s safer to have a buddy. He watches your back, you watch his.”

Elf nodded. He looked relieved to have Ricky resume the burden of conversation.

Megan talked with the boys a long time. Neither of them seemed in any hurry to get back out hustling.

When she finally left the restaurant, Megan caught sight of Mouth and a short Asian boy loitering at the curb beside a newspaper kiosk. Mouth noticed her and beckoned her over with a jerk of his head. As she approached, Megan smelled the sweet odor of weed from the joint the two were sharing.

Mouth’s companion wasn’t really a boy. His features were delicate and his olive skin smooth and flawless, making him appear young, but the corners of his eyes and forehead were etched with fine lines. He could be anywhere from thirty to fifty. “So you’re the intrepid girl reporter?” The man smiled. “Learning anything interesting on the street?”

“It’s an eye-opener.”
“That it is.” The man took a hit off the joint then passed it to Mouth. He offered it to Megan with a smirk.

She didn’t know where he got the idea she was some Sunday school prude. Megan took it, sucked in a lungful of smoke and held it before letting it go. Almost immediately, her head felt light and detached. Pretty powerful stuff.

“Thanks for spreading the word about me needing interviews. It’s been really helpful.”

“No problem.” Mouth took back.the joint His fingers brushed hers and a jolt of desire rocketed along her nerve endings from her fingers straight to her crotch.

She turned her attention to his companion. “So, you know I’m a reporter. Who are you?”

Even, white teeth flashed against his tan skin. “You can call me…Mr.
X.”

“What’s
your
name?” Mouth asked her. “You like asking questions, let’s see if you’re as good at answering.”

“Megan.”
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-three.”
“When was your first sexual experience?”
“Eighteen. Seventeen if you count handjobs.” She stared back at him, refusing to blush this time.

“Are you from L.A. originally?” He sucked in smoke and his redrimmed eyes watered a little as he held and finally released it.

“No. A small town a few hours north.”
“What made you leave home? Domestic violence, sexual abuse?” he mocked.

“I went to college, then got a job here.”
“Where do you work?”

She hesitated, uncertain how much of her personal life to reveal. “A newspaper.”

“Which one?”
“The
Weekly Reporter
.”

He extended the joint toward her.

Megan started to wave it away, but he kept his hand out until she took it.

At the moment their fingers touched exchanging the roach, he asked, “What’s your favorite sexual position?”

Megan fumbled, burnt her fingers and dropped it to the ground.

Mr. X gave a full-throated belly laugh. “This is good. You two are much more entertaining than getting a blow job.”

Suddenly, the proverbial light bulb went off in Megan’s head. He was a john. A real live troll she could interview for her article. She’d wanted to offer the perspective of client as well as hustler and here was her chance handed to her on a platter. “So you’re here for sex?” she said bluntly and realized she might be too stoned to carry off an intelligent interview.

“Used to sell it, now I have to buy it. Isn’t that a trip?”

Megan’s eyes flitted to Mouth, adding up the rest of the equation. Mr. X was here for Mouth.

But the man caught her mental arithmetic and corrected it. “No. Not this one, sweetie. He’s a little too butch for me. We’re just hanging out ‘til the right boy comes along.”

“How…? Why…?” Megan couldn’t remember any of her questions. Her eyes floated in their sockets and she blinked.

“You want my story? I was one of these kids, homeless, an addict, a whore, but I got clean, started a business, got rich and grew old. Ironically, I find myself back here twenty years later still looking for a little weeknight action.”

Mouth gave Megan a look that said as clearly as words, “That’s the way it’s done here. Nothing ever changes. Nothing you write will ever change it.”

His stoic acceptance of the life was painful. Megan’s heart ached and her eyes prickled with tears. Maybe it was the pot.

“Hey, what’s up?” A familiar voice came from near her elbow. A hand patted Megan’s ass.

She turned and almost knocked into Ricky. “Oh. Hi.” She brushed her hair out of her eyes, trying to regain some measure of composure.

“Damn, are you wasted, girl!” Ricky peered into her eyes. “What you smokin‘? Got any more?”

Mouth shook his head.
“Well, fuck. This party’s over then.” Ricky sidled up to Mr. X. “How ‘bout you and me go make our own good time.”

“Why not.” Mr. X smiled. He extended a hand toward Megan. “A pleasure meeting you, young lady. Good luck with your article.”

Ricky and his date started to walk away, but Mouth caught Ricky by the arm as he went past. Without saying anything, he held out his hand.

“What? What the fuck?” Ricky blustered.

Mouth tightened his grip and glared at him.

Ricky reached for his rear pocket and slapped Megan’s wallet into Mouth’s outstretched hand. He threw her a sheepish grin before strolling off with Mr. X, who laughed as though the whole incident had brightened his day.

“How did…?” Megan couldn’t form a complete sentence.
“He grabbed your ass,” Mouth said. Opening the wallet, he examined her license, credit cards, photos and cash, then pulled out a twenty before handing it back to her.

“Hey!”
“Finder’s fee. For your wallet and for getting you an interview with a troll.” He smiled.

Megan burst out laughing. Her head felt like it was flying off her shoulders.

“Seriously.” He moved so close she could feel the warmth radiating off his body. “You shouldn’t keep coming down here, and if you do, then be more careful.”

“I will.” She felt a ridiculous glow of pleasure that he bothered to caution her.

A car slowed as it passed them and stopped a little way beyond. Mouth brushed past Megan to go speak to the driver. She watched him take the familiar stance, forearms on the door of the, ass jutted out behind, filling his jeans perfectly.

A jolt of lust raced through her. She rubbed her face, trying to get herself straight.

Mouth looked up suddenly with a grin. “Hey,” he called. “This guy wants us both. What do you think?”

A blush surged to Megan’s cheeks. “Uh, not tonight. I have a headache,” she quipped.

Mouth laughed, and Megan thought it was worth the embarrassment to hear the full, rich sound of his laughter.

He climbed into the car, shut the door, then gave her a little wave out the open window as the car pulled away.

ZY

Word of Megan’s interviews spread among the street kids, both boys and girls, and soon she had all the material she could use and more. She learned the going price for sex varied widely depending on who you were and what part of the city you worked. On this stretch of Santa Monica you could expect forty dollars for a hand job, fifty for a blowjob and a hundred for sex—more if you were willing to let the customer ride bareback.

She met Penny, who Megan thought was a girl until she began interviewing him. The boy had gotten thrown out of his parents’ house at age sixteen when he dressed in his sister’s prom gown to go clubbing and his dad didn’t take it too well.

Donna was a little dumpling of a girl with bad teeth and a friendly smile. She was fifteen and had been hooking off and on since she was thirteen. In addition to venereal diseases and one abortion, she’d been arrested for prostitution. After living in a group home for a while, she ran away because they were too strict and she couldn’t get a fix when she needed one.

Megan heard repeated stories of abuse, abandonment and neglect that made her question peoples’ right to parent without passing some sort of psychological test.

One night, Megan brought her camera along to shoot photos to accompany her article. She approached Mouth and snapped a shot of him standing in his classic lounge against the wall.

“What are you doing?” He glared. “Don’t.” “I need photos to go with my story.”

“Are you stupid? No one is going to let you take their picture.”

Megan hadn’t thought about that. She’d gotten so used to hearing ‘the business’ talked about openly, she’d almost forgotten it was illegal.

“I won’t show your face,” she promised, showing him his picture in the display on the back of the camera. “I’ll darken your figure until it’s just a silhouette.”

“I don’t care. Delete it,” he commanded.

Megan’s finger hovered over the button. “Look, I really need photos and this is such a striking one. I promise I’ll make sure no one can identify you.” She paused then added, “I’ll buy you a pack of cigarettes.”

He sighed. “Fine. Use it. I know you’ll keep bugging me until you get your way.”

“Thanks.” Megan put her camera away and assumed the lounging position next to Mouth, gazing at the passing cars and trying to think of something new to ask. She’d seen him a lot during her last few visits and they’d developed a tentative friendship.

“What do you do during the day?” she asked after a while. “How do you spend your time when you’re not here?”

“Hanging out.” He lit his cigarette and took a drag. “The park, the mall, the arcade, the skateboard park, but you have to watch out for the cops. They’ll pick you up for loitering or truancy. I go to the library most afternoons.”

“Library?” He continued to surprise her.
“It’s free and it’s air-conditioned. They pretty much leave the street people alone unless they lay down on the benches and nap.” He paused and Megan sensed he was deliberating whether to tell her something more. “They’ve got computers there you can use for free. I found the G.E.D. web site and they tell you what to study to pass the test. So, I’ve been working on that.”

Megan was impressed. “That’s great!”

He shrugged and looked off in the distance. “I don’t talk about it down here. So keep it to yourself.”

“I will,” she promised. “What do you plan to do once you get your degree?”

“Get a job. I can’t keep on doing this forever.”
“Good luck. I think it’s wonderful that you’re working to finish high school.”

She fished in her pocket and pulled out a five, which she held out toward him. She hadn’t carried her wallet since the night Ricky took it. “For the cigarettes I owe you. I don’t know what brand you smoke.”

Mouth stared at her hand for a moment before quickly taking the bill and jamming it into his hip pocket. His expression was hard and closed again.

Megan was embarrassed realizing she’d offended him by giving him cash. It was difficult now they were becoming friends. She didn’t know where commerce stopped and camaraderie began.

ZY

On her next visit to the street, Megan finally got the invitation she’d been waiting for. She knew Ricky, Elf, a couple of other boys and Donna, who hooked over on Sunset, all shared the same squat. They lived in a loose-knit family group, members of which came and went with the vagaries of their lives. Megan had told Ricky she’d like to see their place and take photos, but he refused. He’d explained that finding a safe, undisturbed place where you weren’t infringing on someone else’s territory was difficult and he wasn’t willing to trust Megan with the location. Mouth had refused to show her his place, too.

When Megan hit the sidewalk that evening, Donna came up and linked arms with her. “Hey, how ya doing?”

The young girl was very touchy-feely. She seemed to want nothing more than someone to care about her…and her next dose of crack. Megan had given her a cheap ring from her finger on one of her visits and now Donna worshipped her.

“Hi Donna, how’s tricks?” Megan said, the double meaning making the girl giggle.

“Slow. There’s not shit going on lately. Ricky says it’s cool if you come to our place tonight and get pictures like you talked about. But he says I should ask for twenty bucks for the, uh, photo opportunity.”

“Really?” Megan wondered what had brought on the sudden change. She decided not to quibble over the issue of money since she was really eager to check out the kids’ living conditions first hand. She gave Donna a ten. “This is all I’ve got.”

Donna looked disappointed, but shrugged. “All right. Let’s go.”

Now the opportunity had arrived, Megan wasn’t at all sure she wanted to venture from the brightly lit boulevard to some derelict building. “How far is it?”