Who: Felix and Lydia Where: Downtown Shadow Falls --> elsewhere When: Tuesday evening What: Showing her the ropes.
Life is so beautiful.
He felt like a hermit crab.
Everything salvageable that he’d been able to dig out of the snow drift that had once been his home and been wrapped up in a blanket and hefted over his shoulder to carry, on bent back (strictly for the illusion of weakness), through town. The bundle of everything he valued in the world was lumpy and lopsided in its weight distribution, but Felix Harper King soldiered on like a pro. He needed a shopping cart. Shadow Falls didn’t have nearly enough shopping carts!
The problem was he wasn’t sure where he was going yet which meant he would probably end up at the Church of Immortality. He hated going there. The Reverend Mauer was nosy, too helpful, and far too preachy but at the same time it would probably be the safest place he could go with a bowling ball bag filled to the zipper with bundles of hundred dollar bills. He couldn’t go back to Alexandre Courtin’s place, not right away and wear out his welcome, and Grace had moved out. The houses he thought were emptied were now inhabited and he hadn’t prepared for this sort of situation at all. He’d gotten too cocky. This always happened when he got too cocky.
“It’s a curious thing, the death of a loved one,” mostly to himself, Felix muttered a solace of words to help his messy brain sort through its problem to find a solution before it was too late. The last thing he wanted to do was wake up with black fingers and toes from sleeping outside. It had been nearly comical when one had broken off and he had to quickly hold it back on, pleading frantically through clenched teeth for his magic to reattach it before it was too late and his secret got out
“We all know that our time in this world is limited, and that eventually all of us will end up underneath some sheet, never to wake up.” That sounded just about perfect. A cold slab, a soft sheet, no breath to ruffle or wrinkle it draped over his face. “And yet it is always a surprise when it happens to someone we know. It is like walking up the stairs to your bedroom in the dark, and thinking there is one more stair than there is.” The dark. The dark! “Your foot falls down, through the air, and there is a sickly moment of dark surprise as you try to readjust the way you thought of things.”
She didn’t hear him coming, of course; she was hunched up in a doorway, gazing out at the snow with slightly narrowed green eyes. The wind was biting and she was trying to stay out of it as much as possible. She had gone home with Seth the night before, after he’d given her pizza and let her come back to his apartment. A hot shower and she’d put her clothes in the washing machine, and she’d slept on his couch with a blanket and pillow. But she’d been gone before he woke up, the blanket folded, everything in its place like the little ghost-girl had never been there at all, and here she was back out on the streets, huddled up. She still had that forty dollars from the woman tucked into her sock, and she was strongly considering spending it, or some of it, on a heavy sweatshirt or a coat. She just hated the thought of using the money on something like that when she could use it for food. You could almost-always steal your way through things, but she was a little afraid to go shoplifting in a town run by monsters. The punishment, she thought, was maybe a lot higher than a call to mall security.
When she saw the boy approach though, the bag over his back and loaded down with stuff, her eyes narrowed even more. He looked sort of harmless, skinny and a little disheveled the way she always did. He looked like her in the way of ‘hunger’ too, but she could see something different about him. He was carrying things though, and she was naturally curious… so she sort of hunched tighter against the brick wall of the little alcove of the shop and gazed at him from behind the curtain of her hair, observing his approach.
He set the sack down when he reached a corner because it was a good one. There were two bars across from one another and a diner to the East and in the evening there was usually lots of people around who were drunk and stupid and there was no easier ticket to a free anything than a drunk kid. Straightening, he arched his hips forward and with a groan rubbed one set of fingers against the small of his back, the other being far too bent and useless to be of any good. “Cut him out in little stars,” he said to himself, rolling his shoulders back so his spine popped, “and he will make the face of heaven so fine that all the world will be in love with night.” Taking in a deep breath he paused, a curious wrinkle forming between his eyes as the smell of something, someone, filled his nose. It was good enough that a purring trill bubbled from his insides. He stroked his belly over layers of clothes and looked down from the stairs and straight at Lydia where she huddled and hid.
The girl had thought they looked similar but Felix knew they were the same. He’d seen enough of their kind to know them from counterfeits and wannabes. She had probably runaway. Abusive parents or a foolish decision made worse by pride. Those were his two best guesses. And she looked cold too. One in thirty American children had been homeless at some time in two-thousand and fifteen. He’d read in the paper. Two point five million children, half of which were under the age of six. She was definitely older than six years old. But what was she doing there? Out in the street? He’d lived there for nearly ten years now and he’d never met another person like him. A transient. Vagabond. Homeless. She would be the first and he knew she couldn’t have hid from him. How had she survived the blizzard? Was it creepy that he was staring at her still? How long had he been staring?
Felix Harper King grimaced and held his hand up as if to wave. He should help her. Help her or find her frozen out here one day. Stuck to the sidewalk. Like the little dog. “Hello. Come here.” He waved her over then. “You’re in a bad place.”
She saw him notice her, saw the little wave. Oh god. To go over, or not to go over. She could run. She was very fast, and the night of warmth and food and rest at Seth’s apartment had almost been a ‘reboot’ button after the misery of staying outside through most of that blizzard. She felt good and stronger than she had in awhile. She could probably escape this situation before it became more of an ordeal.
But then… what if she just made things worse by doing that?
Cautiously she took a step forward, a little deer moving tentative from her place against the doorway. Huddled against the cold, hands stuffed into her jeans pockets for a moment to try and shield them from the biting air. She should’ve borrowed Seth’s sweatshirt. He’d probably yell at her if they crossed paths again. He’d been so nice to her and then she’d vanished without even a word. It could’ve gone very differently, there, if she’d stayed until he woke up.
Seth had made it clear that he wasn’t ‘claimed’ by the vampires, since he didn’t have a bracelet. And she’d jumped out of that one monster’s car before she even knew who he was, his name, anything about this town, so she was technically ‘free’ as well she supposed. But she didn’t know what this guy’s deal was. Maybe he was a good guy, maybe he wasn’t.
Heart pounding, she moved closer to him, her eyes focused intently on his face… everything about her body language making it clear that she’d turn tail and bolt if he gave her half a reason.
“Don’t be afraid!” Felix sounded like he was scolding her although it would have been more worth a talking to if she’d walked right up to him completely unafraid. He’d learned that one in a hurry! He’d been young, alone in New York City, followed some bum who reminded him of his dad into an alley and got his first ever black eye! And spent his first week on the street without any shoes. That was the funny part, why would someone that big need his shoes? They were far too small. But that was another issue. He forced himself to smile,that always helped when dealing with cautious individuals.
He crouched down next to his collection of stuff , putting his hands on top of the bundle. He needed something warmer to wear and he had something warm to wear but he had never, not once, given something to somebody else just because they needed it. It was his stuff and he wanted it. He wanted all of it. He didn’t want to share. But she was cold and at the same time he wanted to help her. Alexandre Courtin had given him a hundred dollars, he could just buy a new sweatshirt, but the thought of spending money made him want to panic and he didn’t want to have an anxiety attack in the street. He’d be robbed. Looking up at Lydia, he asked her, “I’ll show you a place you can stay. Empty houses. With heat.” The utility company in Shadow Falls did a pretty bad job, in Felix’s opinion. There were a lot of houses where the lights and gas were still on and no one was there to pay for it!
She stayed where she was, a few steps out of his arms’ reach at this point, and watched him. His body language, everything about it implied that they were of a similar breed. He was small and slim, not big and intimidating. She tilted her head, her eyes locked on his mouth so that she didn’t miss what he said.
Empty houses. With heat.
It had to be a trick, though she knew such things existed. She’d been lucky enough to find a few, with or without other squatters; usually when a family went on vacation for the holidays. They would break into a house, devour all of the food, sleep in the beds, crank the heat, watch television. And then bail at a moment’s notice. Ghosts.
“Okay,” she said quietly, her eyes still locked on him. His collection of stuff made her a little jealous, but only because she was here without even her backpack. She always traveled light, she’d never been the ‘shopping cart lady’ kind of homeless, but the man who’d handed her to the monster at the plane had left her backpack in his car. It held what few worldly possessions she’d had to her name, and now it was just a memory. She had the forty dollars from the woman, Layna, and her business card--- she also had a crumpled forty that Seth had given her and insisted she take.
“Where.”
He nodded and stood up again, looking at the blanket wrapped collection of possessions and picked it up again. He could carry it in his arms for a while, at least. He wasn’t sure about giving her a sweater but he could at least tell her where to go and where not to go. There were places that were certainly dangerous for people like them and places you could get help if you wanted to sit through a lecture of a sermon, and then there were places with people who were nice and would help you. He should show her only some of those. She could have Sikota Buhari but he was keeping Alexandre Courtin. Lydia didn’t realize it but Felix was already drawing lines of what she could have and what he would keep, like two parents splitting up the family after a divorce. “This way.” He gestured down the street and continued on, only slightly waddling due to the cumbersome nature of his burden.
“What is your name?” He asked her, glancing at the girl. “I am Felix Harper King.”