Faith, Hope and Pure Pigheadedness

A hand slaps my face hard.

"MR.HELPER!"

"What?" I ask looking at her again. She has beautiful eyes.

"You have beautiful eyes," I tell her softly.

She blinks at me and slaps me again.

"What the fuck did you take?" she screams at me.

I try to fish in my pocket for the little bottle. When I can' t make my hands work right I just pat the pocket. She reaches into my shirt and pulls it out.

I watch her open it and then I smile as the smell of it comes to me when she opens the top.

"What the hell is this?" she asks sniffing it.

"Angel dust." I tell her then notice that my tongue feels puffy. I place it between my teeth and bite down trying to see how numb.

"Stop that!"

She forces her fingers into my mouth. I can taste her skin. Then I taste copper and my tongue feels funny.

"Damn it stop!" she yells.

Blinking I sit back.

"What?" I ask. Turning I spit the foul taste of copper pennies from my mouth then look at the red pool it makes.

"You idiot you nearly bit your tongue off!" she screams at me. Then she looks down at the bottle. "Angel dust! What the fuck made you do this shit? Where the hell did you get it?"

"Got it from a guy...he had black hair...It was cheaper than the last time I bought some." I reach in my mouth and feel the little cut on my tongue.

"Get your hand out your mouth, you don't know where it's been." She tells me with a shake of her head. "Why the hell did you take this shit?"

"Try to reach your hand," I say looking at my wet red fingers. "You said I've got to try harder so I'm trying."

Where did my fingers get bloody?

Her hand cups my chin and makes me look up at her.

"You have beautiful eyes," I tell her softly.

A single tear runs down her cheek.

"You said not for me. You said that! Why?"she asks.

Reaching up I caress the blue black skin near her eye. I leave a trail of red across it without meaning to.

"Someone's got to. Before you die. Someone's got to reach you." I pull my hand back and rub the stickiness from my fingers. Why is my hand numb? "I'm trying. I'm trying. I'm trying. I'm trying."

Her hand caressing my face make me look back up at her. She is crying freely now.

"Why? Why are you trying?"she asks softly.

"You have beautiful eyes," I tell her softly.

"My god you're fucked up! Come on Mr. Helper lets have a lie down." I follow her directions and turning I lay down on my carpet scrap. The scratchy blanket the guy from the church brought out to me is a warm weight. The nights are getting colder. "I want you to listen to me now okay?"

I nod.

"Don't do this shit again. You hear me. I'm not worth you doing this crap." I see the little bottle fly across the alley. It hits a bag of garbage. "Smoke a joint, hit a crack pipe, drink cheep wine till you puke but don't do this shit. You hear me?"

"Yea."

"Do you understand me or are you too fucked up? Oh never mind I'll tell you again tomorrow when you straighten out. Get some sleep Mr. Helper."

"Yea," she starts to walk away. "Hey!"

What?" she asks turning to look back at me.

"You have beautiful eyes."

She stares at me for a second them I see a slow smile come to her face.

"Thank you."

** ** ** ** ** ** **

"Hey Mr. Helper!"

Opening my eyes I look up at Lorena. She's knelt down next to my box.

"You clear headed?" she asks.

I ponder the question. Moving my tongue I lick the caustic taste from my teeth. Hacking up phlegm I turn and spit against the wall beside my box.

"Yea." I say softly.

"You're going to listen to me. You're going to listen to me like you never listened to anyone before in your life. I don't want your fucking help. I don't fucking want it! Get yourself pulled together and get back to your happy condo life. Go back to giving out handouts to the ones that want them. Go work at a soup kitchen if you feel the need to help so bad. But leave me the fuck alone!"

I look up at her. Slowly I pull myself to my feet and fight the urge to puke. I look down into her face.

"Okay I heard you. Now you hear me." I swallow and wish I hadn't "No."

I say the word in a whisper. Little more than the ghost of a breath.

For a half second I see a look of incredulousness cross her face then anger burns it away. Her palms slam into my chest pushing me back.

"What the fuck is wrong with you? Didn't you hear what I said? I'm sick of seeing you. I was sick of you the first time. What? What you want something from me? Want to get that warm happy feeling from helping me out?" she asks.

She drops to her knees in front of me and grabs at my belt.

"I'll give you a warm happy feeling. I know all about them."she says struggling to get the belt undone.

I pull myself away from her but she follows. Her hands pulling tearing at my pants to get me free.

"Let me give you that good feeling so you will leave me alone!" she says.

As her hand wraps around my cock I grab her by the hair. I get a little cry of pain as I pull he to her feet by that handhold. I drive her into the wall then with a lot of effort I grab her hands and force then to the side.

She looks at me with a grin.

"Is this it? Is this what gets you sweaty? Come on! Think I've never been had rough fucked? I was sold for three dollars a fuck one night! Must have been twenty guy went flat broke. I couldn't walk for two days but that didn't matter to Tee Jay The stupid cum whore doesn't need to walk to bring in money!"

I feel her stop fighting me.

"Why not bend me over? I give just as good from behind. Come on Mr. Helper pick a hole!" she just looks at me. "Take whatever you want and get the fuck out my life so I can get back to..."

Turning loose of her hand I pull her into my arms and hold her tight to my chest.

"What?" she says confused and then she tries to pull away.

I just hold her to me. I have to move my nose away from her hair. Even as foul as I smell I can't take that smell. I realize that someone if not several someone's have pissed on her. She never bothered to wash it off. That tells me more than I could ever learn from anywhere else.

I just hold her to my chest as she fights and struggles in my arms.

"Let me go! Let me go god damn you!"

I just hold her. I feel her try to claw at me but I don't turn lose.

I am cussed in words I've never even head before. Several languages of guttural profanity come pouring out of her mouth.

I just hold her.

Finally she grows quiet. I hear a half sob.

"Please just fuck Me." she says in a whisper.

I shake my head and hold her if anything even tighter.

How long I stand there with her in my arms I can't say. Years worth of tears soak my shirt long before I turn her gently lose and walk with her back to her box. I sit beside the open end as she huddles under her blanket and I take her hand in mine when she starts to cry again.

"Please leave me alone," she says in a whisper after I thought she must have fallen asleep.

"No." I say back just as softly.

I hold her hand long into the night. I crawl my way back into my box when the sky begins to pink.

** ** ** ** ** ** **

She's gone when I wake.

I hunt the streets for the next two weeks without so much as a single sign of her anywhere. I finally track down Roy. I ask him to look out for her.

The look on his face as he looks me over. I hear the sigh then see the shake of his head.

"Simon. Come on, let me get you out of this. We both know the people to go see. I can have you cleaned up and fed in just a few hours. I'll give the wife a call and tell her we will be having a house guest for a few days till we can find you an apartment. She knows you she won't mind."

"Roy. Thank you but ...no. Not without her."

He just looks at me.

"Simon I owe you father and your family and you. I'm begging you to please let me help you. I know the street, Simon. I remember what it's like. I lived it for years. The hardest parts are still to come for you. Please," he begs.

"Not without her."

"WHY?" he yells at me. "What the fuck makes her so fucking special? I can take you around and show you a dozen people that are just as bad off as she is but would like to be helped. That could use someone to help them. I know what you told me but damn it Simon! Your dad wouldn't want you doing this."

I step back and look down at my feet. Then my eyes go to his shoes. Polished shiny black. I can see the world reflected in them. With a smile I see that the guy who shined shoes for a year is still in there some where.

I look up at his face.

"My Dad helped a homeless black man in the days when no white man would sit next to one on the bus."

I see him look down. After a second he gives a nod.

"Remember those times, Roy? What the world did and said about your people? My Dad was a policeman from a family of policemen. We go back four generations. He was the only one to ever get a bad conduct mark in his permanent record."

Roy's mouth grimaces making the graying mustache twitch.

"He slugged a fellow officer when that man made a wise crack about my Mom probably getting her some 'nigger dick'. The Captain tore him a new asshole over you. Said what could Dad expect! Told him that he was a stupid fool for having you in his house. Having a 'colored' man in his house when he was off at work? Might as well hand over his wife to be raped," I swallow to keep from chocking on the bile.

I see the expressions crossing Roy's face. He knows that if I were putting names out there these would be people he probably worked with at the start of his career.

"That would be when your Dad transferred to the Seventh? Wouldn't it?" He asks then.

"Yea. The Captain told him to pack up his badge and walk. Probably because Dad called him a racist son of a bitch," I say.

Roy flinches.

"The drop in pay grade." He says more than asks.

"Yea. He was all but blacklisted for six years after that. He never once complained. He said it was the cost of doing the right thing and that he would pay it triple if he had to."

Roy looks down away from my face as I hear a sniffle from him.

"I think one of the proudest moments in his life was when you made the force." I tell him softly. I reach out to take his shoulder then see how dirty my hand is. I hold my hand just off his shoulder till he looks up. His eyebrow quirks seeing it hovering there. I look at the filth that covers my skin. Then grin at him.

"Can't get the blue's dirty," I say with that silly grin.

Roy's hand catches mine and he pulls me into his chest in as hard a hug as I've ever felt.'

"Help her if you can, Simon." He says fiercely by my ear. "She may not be worth it but you sure as fuck give it your best try."

"She's worth it." I say after a few moments.

Roy turns me lose and looks me in the eyes.

"How can you tell?" he asks softly.

After a moment I give my head a shake.

"I just can," I say.

Roy finds her for me.

** ** ** ** ** ** **

Compared to the alley the new place is a far step down.

The building must have at some point burned down. That hasn't stopped people using it for years. The graffiti is layered upon layer. I see gang signs from people that are a decade gone. Tags from dead people peek out from behind the tags of the soon to be dead.

The sewer smells of the place, the cold wet stench from the river.

I squat down next to the door and offer the guy sitting there a cigarette. His hand shakes as he takes it. I look up at the tan BDU cap with the old Gulf War markings on the side. I steady his hands with mine as he uses my lighter to light the cigarette.

He just looks at me and after a moment smiles.

"Thanks son." He hands me back the lighter then takes a long drag.

"You're welcome and thank you." I get to my feet leaving him with a puzzled look. I step around over and through the piles of trash and building debris. I feel my clothes snag more than one on the old nails that hang from every surface. The rusty remnants of long burned away drywall.

The room may have been a janitor's mop closet at one time. There is a hole in the wall where copper was scavenged maybe decades ago. They took the sink for scrap metal maybe.

Lorena is huddled in the corner on a pile of rags. I can see that her clothing is far worse of than it was.

Like it's been torn from her...maybe more than once.

The blanket she huddles under was for moving furniture with once upon a time.

I do not speak. I sit down and lean back against the wall. The old tile is cold and damp.

I notice that the sewer smell is heavier here. Like maybe it's coming up from the basement through the hole in the wall.

After a moment she looks up. Her face is a mess of new and old bruises.

Somehow her mouth, swollen as it is, can still make a smile.

"What I got to do Mr. Helper? Do I have to leave the whole god damn state?"

I hold out a bottle to her. The pale blue flask was a buck and a half at the store down the road. The clerk slide it out to me through a wooden drawer. The four-inch thick plexi glass between me and him so scratched and scared I couldn't make out his face.

"Entertainment?' I ask with a smile.

She chuckles.

"YOU, are one pigheaded shit fuck you know that?" she asks.

I nod.

"Yea, Lorena. I do. Come back home." I say when she takes the bottle.

She nearly chokes she tries to drink so fast. Either that or her laughing does it.

"Home? What the fuck is that, Mr. Helper? Is that the alley I was first in or the one I had to move too because of you? This is home. This piss smelling place is as good as any,"she says.

I look around the small room.

"Might be warmer." I say after a moment. "Not much room here though. Want to see if we could get a bigger place in the next burned out building down the road?"

She gives a half chuckle.

"Sorry can't. I have a year lease I have to see paid out or I'll lose my deposit," she says without much humor for all the laugh. She hands the bottle back to me. I take a sip without wiping the top and hand it back to her. The cheep stuff burns all the way down and tasted like grape soda mixed with pine sap.

I pull my knees up to my chest. The tile is colder after the warmth of the drink.

"Lorena..." I start to say.

"Please don't call me that." She says softly. "My name is..."

"Hey cum slut!"

I glance up when the guy comes walking in. His hand is at his belt pulling it open. One hand already going to this zipper.

"Rents do bitch..." he looks down and sees me. "Who the fuck are you?"

I start to pull my way up to my feet but make it only just a bit when his foot hit 's my chest.

Then he kicks her!

"I told you no one else gets your cunt! You stupid fucking bitch, I own that hole and all the others. I rent them out... not you! You understand?" he asks leaning down towards her. His hand connects with the side of her face in a loud hard slap! "You understand slut?" he screams at her.

I try to push myself up to make him stop. Seeing me he gives a harsh chuckle and starts to deliver kick after kick into my side. The old work boots he's wearing hit with the unyielding feeling of their steel toes.

Groaning I do all I can which is just to curl up and try to protect my hands and face as the boots land harder and harder.

The shattering of glass in the small room is terribly loud.

So is his scream!

I manage to look up enough to see him reeling back clutching his face.

The broken wine bottle drips red from the jagged edges.

With a snarl she goes back in on him! I clutch my ribs and lever my way to my feet trying to stop her, protect her, get her out of here. Or any combination of them.

I see the knife for only a half second then I hear her scream. I grab a piece of scrap fire blackened wood and swing at him with all my strength.

The rusted nail catches him in the back of his hand and lays him open to the elbow.

As he staggers off screaming in pain I get her under my arms and hurry out the burned building.

The first gun shot hits the metal lamp post next to us. I look back to see the bleeding man pointing and two others with guns held high aiming at Lorena and me.

The pop, boom... pop, boom is muffled.

Not their guns...? I realize that at the same time I see them drop. Still bleeding like mad the first guy turns to look back towards the building.

I see the flash of light from by the door this time.

The man hits the sidewalk with no further worries about bleeding to death.

There is a shadow by the door.

I see a cigarette butt come spinning end over end out the shadow by the door.

Clutching her to me I drag us down the street as fast as I can. After about a block or so I stop and start to look her over. I notice the bloody bottle is still clutched in her hand.

"Were did he cut you?" I ask when I can't see any place on her.

She moves her let hand from beside her ribs and I see the red stain.

"It's not bad." She says when I go to take a look. "I screamed because he hit bone."

"He hit bone and it's not bad? Let me see!"

She shakes her head.

"Not here," I see her look up at me. "Take me home please."

Nodding I get us moving.

About a mile latter is a homeless shelter I've worked at many a day. The guy that runs it remembers me. He gives us a ride across town without a single question asked. I see the look in his eye when he pops the trunk. He hand me two of the big Ziploc bagged care packages then leaves without another word.

I understand as he drives away. Don't ask for this kind of help again.

"Sit here." I tell her guiding her to the curb by her lean-to.

She nods without caring, obviously in pain.

I kneel down in front of her and pop open the Ziploc bag. I smile as I realize it just maybe one of the many hundreds I helped pack at the place last summer.

The little first aid kits came from the dollar store. Hardly worth what we paid for them but they do have a few things that will help.

When we packed a curved needle and dental floss into them I had considered it unneeded. After all anyone hurt badly enough to need stitches would just go to a free clinic's emergency room right?

I know without asking she wont.

She doesn't even seem mildly interested when I undo the bread ties that are holding together her shirt. I don't have to ask what happen to the buttons that were there the last time I saw her.

The cascaded layers of bruising going from black to a sick green tell me she's been on the other end of the same boot I was kicked with.

The lack of bra doesn't surprise me. The size of the gash just under her breast does!

"Good god, Lorena! You should have told me it was this bad! I would have stitched you up at the shelter."

She shakes her head.

"They would be required by law to ask how it happened."

I feel my testicles cringe at the site of the blood that oozes down her side.

I will my hand not to shake as I thread the needle. When I get that done I look up at her.

"I don't have anything to give you for pain other than a few aspirin. I'm sorry." I say and mean it.

"Look there." She points to a rock sitting next to her shelter. When I move it I see it covers a small pothole.

There are a few things hidden there. A couple of joint ends in a big Ziploc baggy, one off the care packages I gave her no doubt.

I see the little glass vial.

Now my hands truly do shake. I've fought the cravings for the shit for the last few weeks. Since the morning after in fact.

When I pick it up I notice her eyes on me.

"I thought I might could sell it to a few of the crack heads. They wouldn't even touch the shit," she says.

I chuckle at that.

"How do you use it?" she asks.

I fish out my remaining cigarette and dip it in. I hold a bit of cloth to her side while the drug dries into the paper and tobacco.

"Just smoke it?" she asks.

I nod.