Chapter 2

From there, he crossed the hall to pick up a couple of hygiene packs and went into the washroom to shower and change clothes. Studying his reflection in the mirror, he decided he looked a lot better than he had an hour ago.

But is it enough to earn me some spare change? Only one way to find out.

He left, walking several blocks to the downtown area, where he stationed himself between a pair of restaurants and two tourist shops on Richwood Avenue, the main street though downtown. Setting down his pack, he sat—leaning against a shop wall—with his sign and a paper cup between his legs. He hoped today would be better than yesterday.

By mid-afternoon, he knew it wasn’t destined to happen. He’d made all of three dollars and change. Enough to buy a cheap burger and fries from the fast-food place a block down. Then he’d be broke—again.

He gathered up his things, went to get supper, and took off for an alley a few blocks away, behind three popular clubs. He settled on a loading dock across from the backdoor of one of the clubs and waited—along with two other guys about his age who were there for the same reason. To make some money by giving down-and-dirty blowjobs to men who knew this was a spot to get one.

He could have gone to a park that was noted as a pick-up spot, but he valued his life. Getting into a car could be safe enough, unless the wrong man was driving. In the past month, two guys that Luke knew hung out there had disappeared off the streets. Not that the cops give a damn, even if they’re aware of it.

Luke had been in the alley for a good hour, he figured, when he was finally approached by a slightly drunk man who came out the backdoor of one of the clubs. After negotiating a price and getting the money, Luke led the man to a safe place between two dumpsters. He got on his knees, and after sheathing the man’s cock with a condom from the hygiene pack, proceeded to get the man off.

Luke got lucky two more times—or the men who needed some fast sex did, he figured—before he decided he’d spent enough time on his knees. When the last man left, Luke folded the money he’d made, sticking it under the insole of his sneaker, and headed down toward the river to get some well-earned rest. 2

Luke used the money he’d earned to buy a new pair of shoes—one of his few indulgences. He could deal with used clothing. Had since he’d hit the streets three years ago. Shoes were another thing. With as much walking as he did, keeping his feet warm and comfortable was a must in his book.

He also stocked up on jerky, fruit cups and granola bars, as well as nuts and single-serve ravioli and spaghetti tins. He stashed the tins with his sleeping bag rather than load down his backpack. The rest he kept with him.

For the next two days, he went to his usual spots to panhandle. Things were a little better and he made enough to buy cheap meals for himself and a couple of friends who hadn’t been as lucky. Then everything seemed to dry up again.

Maybe it’s because there’s too much competition downtown—and too many cops.

With that thought in mind, Luke headed to the west side of the city and the area around the university campus. He knew he could panhandle there without being hassled, if he was careful. After all, age-wise he fit in, and with his relatively decent, if far from new, clothes he looked like half the kids who went to school there. All he needed to do was work the street facing the campus, which was filled with bookstores and inexpensive eateries.

He decided to forego using his sign, as that would make it obvious he wasn’t a student. Instead, he shyly approached people eating on the patios of coffee shops and burger joints, asking if they could spare some change so he could get something to eat. Or so he could afford to take the bus downtown since his ride had stood him up and he was broke at the moment. Most people looked away, shaking their heads. Still, enough of them gave him change or a dollar or two that he deemed the day a success, meaning he wouldn’t have to spend his nights on his knees, servicing horny men.

Tomorrow, I can try the hospital zone, and then some of the strip malls.He knew better than to return here for a while, which was the problem with begging in places other than downtown. People were more likely to remember his face—or more so the lines he used to ask for money—and give him a hard time if he approached them again. He’d learned that soon after hitting the streets. Stay in the congested parts of the city when possible, where flying a sign was commonplace and passers-by were used to dropping spare change in a cup or hand if they were in the mood. Or sneer and make disparaging comments—something he’d hardened himself to early on.