Page 4 of Existential

“Shame,” the smoker murmurs.

I shiver, opting to put my full attention on the less creepy of the two. “You from around here?”

“Nope. Why?”

My hair slides over my face and offers some respite from their judgment as I mumble, “I need to use a shower.”

“Ain’t there some shelter around here you could hit up for that?” Smokey asks.

I shake my head, looking at him again despite every cell in my body warning me not to.

“You could share one with me.” He grins.

And that’s why.

“Knock it off, Crackers.” Figures that’d be his nickname.Guy’s mad as a hatter. Twitch in his eye really sets the whole look off.

My spectacled savior takes a step back and clearly scopes me out, eyes roving head to toe and taking in the bag I have slung across my body.

“You homeless?”

“Free-spirited,” I retort. Homeless indicates I had no control over how I ended up in this predicament. I had every ounce of control. It was my choice to walk away, and my choice to keep going.

“Like a hippie?” Crackers asks as smoke billows from between his lips.

“If you were hoping for free loving, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but …”

“Damn.” He smiles, and then turns his attention to the guy next to me. “We need to hit the road soon.”

“I know.” The dark-haired biker flinches, eyes still on his buddy. Something passes between them, some unspoken question and answer. “All right.”

“Where are you heading?” I ask everyone I meet the same thing. Only this time, there’s a certain flutter in my stomach that warns I should probably keep my trap shut.

“Fort Worth.” Crackers eyes me suspiciously, pushing off his light post. “You wanna ride, little lady?”

“With him.” I thumb at four eyes. “If he’ll let me.” No way I’m getting that close and personal with a guy who was just sizing me up for a shared shower.

“You know the rules?” he asks.

“What rules?” I meet Crackers’ challenge with folded arms.

“You ride the machine, you ride the man too.”

A snort sounds to my right. I regard the guy I’ve apparently just propositioned with wide eyes.

“He’s messin’ with you.” A smile splits his lips to reveal perfectly white teeth.

“Aw, come on, Digits. I had you in with a grin, then.”

“Fuck off.”

The two punch each other lightly in a playful way, chuckling as they start down the sidewalk. I stare after them, guessing the answer must have been no. Never mind. I have nothing but time on my side, so if it means I need to spend a day longer here while I beg for enough change to catch a bus then so be it.

I take a step back and look down into my bag for one of the granola bars Digits had bought me, when the chinking of chains and the steady beat of boots on the concrete whips my head up. This is it. Nice guy act is over. I look around and try to spot the alley they’ll drag me into so they can assault me. If I know where it is, I at least have a crack at making it in the opposite direction.

“You comin’?”

I didn’t expect the soft tone to his voice.

Or the way he ducks his head to level his gaze with mine.

Or the fact that I automatically nod like an excited kid who’s been told Christmas is early this year, and take Digits’ outstretched hand.

Guess I’m going to Fort Worth, then.