Street 237

Chapter 13: Who's to Blame

   I walked down the street with the twenty rustling in my pocket. I found myself still thinking about Mystery Guy. The way he just helped a stranger, not just any stranger either, a homeless one!
    It amazed me how someone could just d that. It wasn't none of his business but he made it his business. The thought of him brought a smile to my mouth, which was somewhat rare.
   I rounded a corner and pressed the bottom at a cross walk light and watched as the numbers counted down for it to stop traffic.
   Gabe panted happily by my side.
Street Chick.
My mind kept reverting back to the little name he called me. I don't know why was so hooked on it. It made me feel somewhat special.
That car...
A black 2016 Mustang.
Why I remembered it, I don't know.
    The hand signaled for me to walk across, so I scurried across. I was still carrying a bag that contained a pad box in my right hand. Where was I gonna put it as I walk into Walmart?
   I bit my lip and just continued to hold it as I walked in after walking a mile or two down the road after crossing the road.

The bright lights illuminated my somewhat dark skin. My eyes tried to adjust however it took a good while. I managed to run into three people in the process. I walked straight towards the back of the Well-sized store to the bathrooms. I didn't like using the ones in the front—too many people.
As I passed a worker, they stopped me and informed me of Gabe, whom was still following me. I explained why I was there and what I was going to buy. To my surprise the woman told me she would hold Gabe until I came back with a collar and leash. Another thing I have to get on my list. A leash.
I nodded and expressed my gratitude before hurrying to the bathrooms. My bladder was about to burst as I stormed through the doors into he empty bathroom. Thank God it was empty.

I went into a stall and immediately relieved myself. It was nice to be able to use a clean bathroom. A lot of times when you lived on the streets, you had to use portable toilets, AKA porta-potties. They'd be filthy and smell as if something had died. But it was either that or risk the humiliation and embarrassment of getting caught by a cop for indecent public display. Yeah, trying to take a crap on the streets.
I finished and did what I had to do regarding my period and the pads. I placed the pad in my worn out underwear. I probably should buy more.
But it was the last thing on my mind. Did I need more? Yes. But was I gonna die without it, no.
I finished up and left the stall. I washed my hands and while I was at it I washed my face and up to my elbows. The warm water felt wonderful on my dry, cold skin. I got my face mostly clean before drying off and slipping my bag on my arm and then I left.
I stopped by the pet section and picked up the cheapest collar and leash. Collar being $6 and the leash being $8.

Fourteen dollars. That leaves me with six dollars.
As I headed back to the worker my mind wondered what I could get with $6. What did I need? Underwear? No. They're not ripped, or falling apart. Just old. Perhaps a coat? Yeah, it would be getting colder. But would I be able to find a jacket that is $6.. most likely not.
I eliminated thought after thought until I landed on one. I could buy a blanket. That would be something I could really use and would provide some warmth.
I got back to the worker.
She looked at me, "I see you got the collar and leash." She smiled at me. I guess she was surprised I actually came back.
"Gabe's my baby," I said warmly, though it sounded a little odd.
"Gabe's his name?"
I nodded and handed her the money for the collar and leash after she scanned it with her belt scanner. I then began to remove the tags.
"He's a beautiful dog for sure. Find him on the streets?"
I nodded again and slipped the collar over Gabe's head and tightened it to fit. He was so thin it was hard to get it tight enough. I then clicked the leash onto the collar and stood.
"Can I ask a question?" The worker asked as she looked at me with a sympathetic look.
"Yes ma'am," I somehow managed to chirp.
"Why are you on the streets?"
I could tell she wasn't trying to offend me, or hurt my feelings. It was a common question I always got asked, so it became normal and my answer was always the same.
" Sometimes, kids aren't so fortunate." I gave her a forced smile and started to walk off again until she spoke again.
"Was you kicked out?"
Kicked out ?
I shook my head, "Let's just say... I'm better off in the streets." I left her with that and headed off to another section to retrieve a blanket.

I managed to find a blanket for $5.44 and it was a thin fleece material. Better than nothing I assumed. I checked out and headed back out into the cold.

Kicked out? Is that what that woman first assumed? Who could blame her.... but then again... who is to blame?