Somnolent Strike

Homeless

I pulled my hands out of the pockets of my jeans and checked my wristwatch. Seven past ten. Six hours since I had called my mother to pick me up. I'd tried calling her again, from a phone booth but she didn't pick up. I decided to wait some more anyway. She didn't always keep track of time. Last year, she'd bought me a cake that said Happy 14th birthday VeeVee.

With the sun setting, there weren't many people on the streets. Just one or two here and there, on their way home. Going back to someone. To someone who loved them. Probably more than one person. And maybe even a few pets.

Not wanting to think about that anymore, I made my way across the street to a dime store and headed straight for the digital corner. There were a few boring celebrity magazines there I wasn't interested in — Celebrity Sleuth, 'Teen (with problem pages and unwanted advice and the reviewing of the porno Outlaw Ladies). I looked at the computer magazines instead. There was an amateur radio magazine with a computer advertisedon the back, called Scelbi. I looked for it among the computers but only managed to find a Gateway 2000 at the back, but it didn't have a mouse or proper cables attached. They said they'd made a deal with a homeless person outside who sold cables and mouses for the computers. I hauled the computer on my hip, lugging it like luggage and looked around for a stand or indeed a homeless person. There was a woman smoking there with a small kid about six playing near her, but they didn't look homeless. She had a model's face and was tall and elegant, with olive skin, wild black hair pushed back with a neon green bedazzled bandana and a long floor length grey coat. The clothes her kid wore were of good quality too. I decided to walk up to them, staggering under the weight of my new computer. 

"Excuse me, have you seen someone homeless selling cables and plugs and stuff?" I worried she would get offended if she was the homeless person, but she just smiled. Her smile was unnerving, all teeth, rather as if she wanted to take a bite out of me.

"That would be me." She walked behind a little table and started sorting through CDs and cables and a mouse or two. "This should work for yours."

"Thank you so much. Here's a tenner, get yourself something to eat." I handed her the note and turned to go.

"A tenner isn't enough I'm afraid. More like fifty." 

I stopped and turned around slowly. 

"For a mouse and a few pieces of electricity?! Are you mad? I don't have that kind of money. I just got out of jail!" I waved the computer at her for emphasis. 

Her face hardened. "Well I can guess why you were there."

I took a deep breath, hating her. "Listen I'll pay you back soon as I get home and find more money, alright? I just need these tonight."

"No. Come back tomorrow if you need them so badly." She snatched the devices from my hand before I could stop her. 

I imagined slamming my heavy computer into her head, watching as the blood dripped down her fancy coat, into her weird striped socks and all over her Moon shoes. I shook my head and stormed off, to where a taxi was parked, and the driver was having a ciggarette. 

"Are you working?" I asked tersely.

"Sure I am. Hop in." At least one good thing tonight.