“Thanks for helping me,” Mason said.
“Don’t be scared… ask him for his number,” Free urged.
Mason closed his eyes wishing he knew his smartwatch well enough to mute it, but he didn’t. “I’m sorry. It’s been a long night; I had a long shift.” Mason reluctantly backed away. “I better get Pixie home.” As if she had something so pressing to do. It was a lame excuse, but it was all he had.
“Of course.” The guy nodded, his melancholy gaze roaming over Mason’s face before understanding seemed to settle in. He started to turn away, as if he knew the score. As if he knew Mason wasn’t about to ask him for his name and number or if he’d like to chat over an early breakfast. “I get it.”
Mason gave a stiff nod, then clicked his teeth at Pixie to get going. The dog whined as the young man began to walk in the opposite direction of the bench he’d been on. Drifting someplace else. Something wasn’t sitting right with Mason as he watched the guy leave with his shoulders slumped and his head down.
“Thank you again for your help,” Mason called out abruptly, and his voice seemed far too loud in the absolute silence. “I’m Ellis, by the way. You don’t have to call me Officer Mason.”
This time his crooked smile made his eyes dance from where he stood under the streetlight. “I’m Jesse,” he said simply and continued walking.
Jesse
Jesse sat in the compact cubicle waiting for the heavy reinforced door to clang open and his best friend to shuffle inside wearing a horrific orange jumpsuit like the two inmates that came in before him. A lady on the opposite side of the wall was sobbing at whomever she visited with. From Jesse’s vantage point he couldn’t see her, but he could see the man was misty-eyed, and he had his arm outstretched touching the glass, perhaps wishing it was her.
I gotta get out of here. This jail stuff ain’t for me. The sound of steel aggressively meeting steel echoed painfully in his ears, and the smell that assaulted him was a mixture of disinfectant and desperation. Jesse had cleaned up the best he could in a tiny sink at the food mart convenience store restroom, vowing to never again take a steaming shower for granted. He was so tired from the lack of sleep, and his fingertips were so cold he was beginning to think they’d soon snap and fall off.
Jesse searched around him, not liking all the cameras and watchful guards. It took ten minutes to get through security, and he was especially worried about having to leave his bags outside by the front door. He was positive all of his belongings would be gone before he returned. But he needed to hear Worm’s plan, and then he was out of there. The doors opened again, and a busty, female guard pointed to Jesse’s window. Worm winked at the woman, and to Jesse’s amazement, she actually winked back.
When he saw his friend’s Cheshire grin, Jesse couldn’t help but shake his damn head. Hell, he was just so glad Worm was okay and not looking all roughed up or strung out. Worm sat on the low stool in front of the Plexiglass and lifted the receiver hanging on the wall beside him, and Jesse did the same.
“Hey, bro. So how mad are you at me this time?” Worm’s smile fell slowly. He moved his hand as if he was about to run it over his buzz cut, but the handcuffs stopped him. “Worse than when I cheated off your midterm in ninth grade and they failed us both, or am I at the level when I ruined your autographed *NSYNC poster?”
“Nah. I don’t think you’ll ever top that. But you’re damn close,” Jesse growled. True, he was mad at his friend, but this was their situation, and bitching about it for the few minutes they had to talk wouldn’t help them.
“I never meant for this to happen.” Worm grimaced. “I can’t stand knowing you’re out there all alone.”
“I’m all right, Worm,” Jesse lied. “I’m twenty-four years old, not twelve. I’m not exactly a runaway, okay? I’m a grown man that can figure out his own shit.”
“No. Not out here you can’t. You’re too damn kind to survive on the streets, Jesse. I’m telling you, Atlanta is not at all like the Clemmons suburbs that you’re used to,” his friend warned. “Don’t trust anyone, and I mean no one. Not even the police.”
All Jesse could do was nod because he’d already learned that important lesson within twelve hours of being there.
“I was finally supposed to be able to help you. You’ve never asked anyone for help in your life, and as soon as you did… look what I…”
“Worm. Stay focused. I don’t have long because I have to get back outside to my stuff.” Jesse tapped his knuckles on the glass, causing his friend to raise his head and look him in the eye. “What’s your plan?”