A loud screech followed by a howl sounded behind her as her brown, decaying boots leapt up onto the gray, damp pavement. She looked ahead at the new Ford Model B speeding off with a fuming, red-faced man screaming biting words at her. She paid him no mind; the lovely city of New York was known for that kind of “benevolent treatment” when it came to those less privileged.
Lisbeth looked up at the night sky with awe, her emerald eyes gleaming in the dim moonlight, and mused about the wonders it held, especially the bright incandescent lights that held their positions in the black abyss; the sentinel stars, protecting all of their brothers and sisters with their blinding lights in a unified family spreading out into infinity. Even stars had companionship; why was something that loomed above every human being on a daily basis so difficult to find in a city overpopulated with people?
She pushed the thought from her mind for the time being; she was being childish, she knew that. She brought her mind back to the essentials: food, warmth, and shelter. Daydreaming came later.
As her boots stomped on the hard pavement, each step exposing her bare left foot from the hole near her toes, the shrill ring of a metal bell sounded next to her. She looked to her left--struggling with the hood of her ratty purple parka and her matted, deep brown hair at first--to see a large, bull-faced man with a large cardboard box emerging from a glass door. She looked up for a second, only catching a glimpse of a sign that read King Kullen”before her nose connected with a large, cardboard wall, knocking her to the ground as her jacket scraped against the solid pavement.
“Watch where ya goin’ ya bum!”
Dirtbag. She scoffed at the man as he lumbered away with his cumbersome cardboard container, dusting off her parka and her torn black jeans--with little effect. She stood up with a grunt, rubbing her nose and looking up at the store sign once again with mild excitement; it glowed with neon, luminous light, contrasting the shadows that surrounded it.
Lisbeth wasn’t expecting a sign from heaven, but an angel seemed to loom over her with its fluorescent wings.
She stepped into the store timidly with the metallic bell sounding above her, gazing at her surroundings for any signs of life; most people must have stayed in their homes due to the news of the inclement weather that was buzzing around the city, because the store was practically vacant aside from a few straggling customers looking for supplies for their early hibernation. The lights shone above her, reflecting off of the clean, white tiled floors and the various glass sauce jars and cardboard cereal boxes. The supplies that surrounded her were enough to keep a family of five alive for months at least. Lisbeth pondered whether the employees would notice a fifteen year old walking off with several loaf-sized lumps in her jacket, but decided to wait until the store closed before she made her move.
For the time being, Lisbeth wandered around the store, staring at the colorful-wrapped candies, the sugar-infused drinks, the paradise items of a typical child. She turned away and started off toward the milk aisle; what was the point of craving candies with such eagerness if she didn’t even have anyone to be eager with?
She was attempting to decide whether or not to find a nice place to fall asleep in a remote corner of the store when the bell at the entrance sounded again. At first, Lisbeth paid the sound no mind; just another bear out hunting before they return to their cave. She picked up a box of Kix and turned it over in her hands; the radio advertisements in several other areas she walked by were always buzzing about these “cereal puffs”. Lisbeth committed the location to memory, taking note of where the aisle was in relation to the door. If she was quick, she could pick that up with a loaf of bread and some milk.
Lisbeth turned a corner and noticed the cash register straight ahead, immediately dashing back behind the aisle. She was sure that the clerk wouldn’t appreciate an unaccompanied minor meandering around his store, let alone a homeless, dirt-poor one. However, as she peeked around the corner, she began to hear what sounded like soft voices coming from the counter. She looked ahead and could see the store clerk’s patch of hair peeking out from behind the shoulder of a customer. The customer had on a tan dress shirt, one you would usually see worn at some sort of ball or shindig--only it looked like it hadn’t been washed in years, with dirt stains lining the spine and tears edging towards the neck. The man turned around, away from the clerk, and leaned against the counter, allowing Lisbeth to discover that it wasn’t a man at all, but a boy--an older boy, perhaps seventeen, but a boy nonetheless. His features were young and smooth; his hazel eyes seemed light, full of life, yet of despair and agony as well, the corners pointing towards the ground as he smirked and rolled his eyes to the ceiling. His dirty blonde hair partially covered his left eye, and seemed to be in the same condition as his shirt, matted and devoid of care. He had brown suspenders pulling his torn brown pants up to his waist and partially exposing his black socks and stained, eroded brown shoes.
His eyes darted down and landed directly on hers just as rain began to plop down on the roof above. She took her eyes away quickly and hid behind the shelf. Closing her eyes and crossing her fingers, she awaited the inevitable “Get outta here you ape,” or “Go steal from some other knucklehead!”
She heard voices, but they weren’t directed at her. Moving her head around the corner again, she listened to the conversation.
“...not kidding, right now. Get the hell outta here, you’re not swindlin’ me no more.”
“Swindling? I’m insulted, sir, I would never!” The boy scoffed and started skulking away from the clerk, putting his hands in his pockets and tapping to the end of the store.
“I mean it, kid, get out! I can buzz the NYPD in a minute flat!” The clerk called after the boy.
The boy pivoted around and threw his left arm up, gesturing toward the clerk with an open, tense hand. “Take it easy with the yellin’, wouldn’t want you to pop a vessel old man!”
Some more disgruntled sounds erupted from the clerk, but otherwise, the conversation seemed just about over. Lisbeth saw the boy turn around towards the aisle again, and hid behind the shelf. She considered greeting the boy--he didn’t seem too harmful, just defiant--but her mind began to jump to conclusions. What if he reported her? What if the boy turned her to the police in a moments notice just for the possibility of some food or water? She wouldn’t blame him if he did; that would just add on to the roster of people that left her helpless in her life.
Lisbeth didn’t know what to do; the last thing she could do is go to jail, she knew she wouldn’t last a second. She had no idea what the boy would do if he caught her, but decided not to wait to find out. Her eyes darted to the windows; the rain was really coming down. She needed to get out of there and find shelter before it got any worse. Her boots squeaked towards the door down the aisle, when something yanked her back in the other direction. On instinct, she screeched loudly and struggled against the force pulling her to her demise…
“Shhhhhh, quiet!” A voice said in a harsh whisper. Lisbeth, confused, turned around; the boy with the eyes had grabbed her arm and was tugging her back. She stared at him in disbelief as he stared back, smirking, but in a much lighter, less sarcastic fashion than the devious smile he beamed at the cashier beforehand. His eyes darted outside, as if telling her to it was clear to leave. She stared at him, still as confused as before. The boy seemed to notice her flustered state, and crouched closer to her, whispering in a soft, kind voice. “This place is no good anyway. I know a swell place a few blocks from here, they got Kix and everything.”
The rain poured down in buckets, and he grabbed her hand. She gave him a puzzled look, before a shy smile spread across her face. They ran down the stairs and out the door.