Re: In a dumpster: Wren I/Si M
Si was no one's hero. He shouldn't be. That just showed poor judgment. He'd been a fuck-up from day one, and now they were countless days out with no end in sight. A junkie a few hours out from a needle in his arm, he didn't like the way the kid was looking up at him. His reaction to it was a near need for physical distance. But, he managed to keep himself rooted to the asphalt on the crumbling rubber of his sneakers. He grimaced at the kid. There was a naivety to him that told Si of worse things than being sheltered. His best friend as a kid, besides Amy, had been one of those. He closed his eyes as he took another drag on his cigarette, then shook his head as he exhaled. The smoke scattered.
"Then go to the rec center." Si wasn't the man to ask for help. Sure, he might pick you out of the dumpster, but that was where it stopped. There was something wrong with this kid and he knew it. But, there seemed to be a presence behind him, a ghost of his, a demon, picking at the hairs on the back of his neck, and he just wanted to be done here. He started walking, away from the black hole of feeling, and if the kid in the nightgown followed like another sort of ghost, then fine. He was haunted anyway. "I have five dollars," he reluctantly told the kid, trying to peel the wadded bill from the filthy pocket of his pants. It was for other things. He sighed and tried to pass it over, cigarette moved to the corner of his mouth. "Go get something to eat. That doesn't come from a dumpster." Si shoved his now free hand into his pocket, tucked his chin closer to his chest, and, assuming the kid skittered along beside him, didn't slow his pace.