text: “I lerve you! I do!” “Say what?” Where can you be and still know that someone cares? Time stretches out, and everything is a joke. You think you know what everyone knows until you don’t. And it isn’t so hard. To know what I know... “Do you want that cigarette or not?” It’s all lerve, don’t you know? Sure, I’ll take that cigarette. And everything else I can. Because it doesn’t matter whether I smoke or not, I’ll smoke if you want me to. “Do you need a light?” I’m always in the light. It shines all over me. I hardly know anything different. People say different. But they don’t talk to me. They’re talking to themselves. “Pretty cold tonight, isn’t it?” It was cold when I was born. It's been cold all my life. But I’m not complaining. Used to it. A useful idiot, that’s what someone called me after he took everything that I had. Everything that mattered. My mom’s picture, my dad’s picture. My money, too. “We'll see ya!” And you wouldn’t want to be ya! If you only knew. # “911 Emergency! What is your emergency?” “There’s this guy. Slumped over on the sidewalk. It’s too cold for people to be sleeping outside. Can someone get over to....” “You’re breaking up. Where are you? This is 911 Emergency. Say again?” “...battery...” “He hung up!” the operator said to her supervisor. “Try calling him back.” “Already on it...It went to voicemail.” “Alright, CAD direct to police and follow up with a phone call. “Will do.” # It’s way too late, nearly one in the morning. I’m such a fool. I have to work tomorrow. So I exited the bar where I was at. And around the corner from the bar, I see him--the same guy from before. I tried to call 911, but my phone was dead. Now, what do I do? “C’mon man, get up!” My hands are freezing. And I’m not wearing a winter jacket. There’s no one around. Anyone out there would be rushing to their cars, which I don’t have. A car, that is. It's back home in the underground parking lot. “C’mon! Get up! You can’t stay here! It’s freezing!” Where are the police when you need them? Are there no doughnut shops handy? I go to the corner and just catch sight of another man coming out of the bar. “Hey, can you give me a hand?” I shout. There couldn’t be more than twenty feet between us. He shakes his head and rushes off. Not wearing a winter jacket either. Too bad he wasn’t coming out of a church! Maybe someone like that would give me a hand! What if I help this guy, and he dies on me? Then, I’ll be sued or be charged with a crime. I think to myself. Go back to the bar, idiot. Call from there. The door to the bar is locked. Bang on the door. I see the bartender behind the bar through the door window, shaking his head. I bang some more. He comes to the door. “We’re closed!” he shouts through the door. “There’s this guy, he needs help!” The bartender frowned and then opened the door. I can smell beer on him, and the bar is so warm. I want to go in to warm up myself! “This guy is around the corner! He’ll freeze to death!” I practically shout as the bartender steps out onto the sidewalk and looks around. “What guy? Just get home! Walk it off, will ya!” He slams the door. # This guy was yelling at me. But I play dead . Been practicing that a lot. Some day, I will die. But that’s cool. It sure is cold, though. Now, here he comes again. Why don’t he leave? I’m fine. “Get up! We gotta go!” he says. I’m cool with it. I get up and dance around a bit. He’s all surprised. Takes me by the arm. We’re walking down a street I never been before. Lived here all my life, never saw this place. Some swanky apartment he has! Like there should be a doorman or something. Up the elevator, 23 rd floor. My my, so high this boy. “I‘ll charge my phone. Then I’ll call 911 for you,” he says as we get into his apartment. I sure hope this dude isn’t some kind of weirdo. Try something on me--something he’ll regret. I’m ready. # At least he’s comfortable, sitting in my favorite chair--stupid charger. I should have gotten a high-powered one; at least 30 watts would be nice. So cool to have one that you just lay your phone down on. But it’s only 15 watts. How long do I wait before I call? Ten percent battery on the phone. Twenty? I sure don’t want to drop a call again. I go into the kitchen and open the fridge. At least he’s not throwing up or anything. Is he on drugs? I sure hope he’s no trouble. It's best to act casual and be cool, and he’ll be out of here in half an hour tops. Damn, it will be two in the morning before I get any shut-eye! Up at eight tomorrow! “Can I get you anything? Juice, water?” “Do you have Perrier?” he asks, laughing a little. “Actually, yes, I do! Blackberry or straight up?” I smile and bring him a can. He frowned, like I had insulted him. “What is blackberry, cracker? Some phone? Nothing fruity comes my way! Uh oh, Here we go . I put the Blackberry Perrier can on an end table and went and got him what he wanted. There’s a knife, where did I put it? There is a butcher knife somewhere. There it is. In the drawer by the sink. On the way back, I check my phone on the dresser in the bedroom--five percent. Call now. Call now! But I go back and sit on the sofa across from him. # This dude is too much. I sit here, and he thinks he’s in complete control. Sucker! Must have some fancy job to pay for all this. Even has expensive water in cans! I should just go nuts on him. It’s what he expects! What’s that? A cat? Coming over to see me? “Oh, that’s Fluffy,” he says, all nervous-like. “Harmless, stays up at night, just like us! He's just curious.” “I used to have a cat. Called him Mutt. Alley cat. Stayed out all night and brought mice home to eat.” “Isn’t Mutt a name you would give to a dog?” “Short for Mittens. You know, white paws...” I look around and take a swig from that can. Damn, I’m thirsty! “When was the last time you ate something?” he says. “Yesterday.” “Really?” “Yes, really!” I say. “You think being poor is a walk in the park?” # My phone rang, which jolted me. I was getting him something to eat. I had practically nothing in my fridge: sour milk, leftover mac and cheese. I throw a small frozen pizza in the microwave. Then it's off to answer the phone. The first thing I noticed was that my cell was at thirty percent. Where has the time gone? “This is a call back from 911 Emergency. Did someone call on or about 1:00 AM from this line this morning? “Yes.” “Are you that caller?” “Yes.” “What is the nature of your emergency?” “Homeless man, freezing outside. I called to get some help, but my phone died.” I gave the operator all my particulars, name, and address. A special crew that picks up homeless people at night in the winter will come by soon. I hang up. “Here you go,” I say as I give him the pizza on a plate with a fork and knife and another Perrier. “Thanks,” he says as he tears into his food. # They’re coming to get me. Now I’ll have to live by rules and shit until I can get out. “Can I get you anything else?” he asks. But I don’t want to be a pig, so I say no. I look around, hand the empty plate back, and finish my second Perrier. There’s another call on his cell. He buzzes them in, and not long after, there is a knock on the door. “Special Services here. A pickup?” a woman in a blue uniform asks, stepping into the apartment. She's looking around, and another man in the same blue uniform pokes his head in and says something to her, something about it being a "long night," and he hoped they'd get a break soon. I shrug my shoulders and turn away from them. Which dude will they pick up? Me or him? "Is someone leaving with us?" She's getting impatient, like it's not obvious who is supposed to go! I am dressed in a hoodie and sweats while he looks on, Mr. Perrier, all important looking and playing a game, like usual. I turn away. Get it over with already! Then he's at my side, putting his hand out. “I never got to know your name. Sorry. My name is Tom Bradshaw. What’s yours?” “Eli Wilks.” “Pleased to meet you, Eli. I’m going to take a day off work. Do you mind if I visit you tomorrow at the shelter?” “Can you bring the cat?” I say. “Certainly! And you can tell me all about Mutt.”