Symbiotic

Chapter Twelve

Eve walked for a long time, not even really knowing where she was going or what she was doing. All she knew was that she couldn’t go home. Not now. Even if her mother would allow her back into the house at this point, she didn’t think she could handle living in that oppressive environment any longer.

After what felt like several hours, when her feet were starting to ache and her head was finally starting to clear, Eve stopped and took a seat on a nearby bench. She was in an unfamiliar part of town, with an injured arm, and had no idea what to do.

She supposed she should just call it like it was; she was a runaway at this point. While she didn’t know where she wanted to go, she knew that she had no intentions of going back to her parents’ house. She wasn’t stupid enough to think her tiny, injured self could get by on the streets for long though; she would be found dead within weeks, especially with the murderer still at large. So she needed a plan of action.

She needed four things, that she could think of. Water, food, shelter, and a source of income. She found herself automatically prioritising her list in order of which things she needed most urgently.

If she still had friends who could support her needs, now would be the point at which she started texting them. But the only person she could see taking her in was Roxie; and from the sounds of things they were barely keeping themselves afloat. Maybe if both she and Roxie were able to get jobs, it would be financially viable. But that goal had to be reached before such an idea was even considered.

Eve found herself wishing that she had taken the foresight of bringing some basic art supplies with her – she could make money from her art, she saw sure of it. Even if it meant having to survive on the streets for a few weeks until she had the money to afford a room somewhere, everything would be a thousand times easier. But of course she hadn’t thought of that, had she? No, her brain had been too focused on witty comebacks.

Stupid, snarky Eve.

Her stomach started to grumble, and she sighed. Of course. It was getting near dinner time. If she didn’t eat, she wouldn’t be able to think straight, and it would all be downhill from there. She had to find some kind of food.

Realising that her pickings were incredibly slim, she decided to just try and scrounge through the bins outside a restaurant or supermarket. They threw out tons of food, right? There had to be something in there that was at least halfway edible; something in a packet, maybe.

Ha. Are you seriously about to go dumpster diving? True homeless person fashion right there, Eve.

She harshly reminded herself that she was hungry, and that her other choice was to go home and beg her mother for forgiveness. And she was done begging for forgiveness for something that wasn’t even her fault. She would starve first.

Her stomach grumbled again, more insistently this time. Ok, maybe ‘starve’ was a bit of an exaggeration. She found that she would really rather not die, if at all possible. So she started wandering through the streets, looking for anything that might mean dinner.

It wasn’t too long before she found something promising; a small café. She checked through her purse one last time to make sure she definitely couldn’t just buy something. As suspected, she had either used the last of her allowance or left it at home when she’d run. Dumpsters it was, she supposed. She looked around to make sure no one was watching, then slipped down an alleyway to the back of the building.

The area was empty, and the café seemed to be closed. She didn’t think she would run into any people here, at least. There were a few mounds of garbage lying around, and several bigger bins. Eve took a moment to steel herself, then started looking through one of them.

It… actually wasn’t as bad as she had been expecting. Most of the really gross stuff seemed to be inside separate garbage bags, meaning that most of what she was actually sifting through was paper. She could live with that.

She had been searching for about a minute or so before a voice made her shriek and fall backwards. She leapt back off the ground, spinning around to see a man.

He seemed to be even worse off than she was. His clothes were tattered and dirty, and he had to be in at least his sixties. He gave her a knowing smile.

“Sorry if I scared you, little lady. I was just trying to offer some friendly advice.”

“Advice?”

He pointed at the bin she had been searching. “You won’t find anything in there. This here café takes all their scrap home to compost and feed the chickens. Believe me, I was mighty disappointed myself when I found out.”

“Aw man. And here I thought I actually knew what I was doing.”

The man laughed, a deep, hearty sound. “You’re a runaway. I can just tell. You lot always think it’s going to be so much easier than it turns out.”

“You see a few runaways?”

“Oh yeah, a bunch of them. Most of them don’t last longer than a week. They don’t starve or nothing, don’t worry,” he assured her, seeing her worried expression. “Most of them get caught by the police and shipped back home.”

“What about the ones who don’t?”

“Those ones go one of two ways, now. I’d say maybe half of them turn out like me, and just stay homeless. The other half, they actually manage to make something of themselves. It’s not impossible, see, just hard.”

Eve nodded. The man held a hand out to her.

“Look, I hate to see a little girl like you go hungry. And hell, you had enough moxie to try digging through trash for your dinner. I think I can hook you up.”

“What do you mean, exactly?” Eve asked, hesitating. He jerked his head in the direction of another street.

“There’s a soup kitchen a couple of streets over. As long as they’re open right now, you don’t gotta dig through garbage for your meals.”

“Oh.” She didn’t want to admit it, but she did feel slightly embarrassed. She started following the man, still wary of his motives. At the first sign of danger, she decided, she would run.

“My name’s Georgie, by the way. I’ve been on the streets for about five years now, so I guess you could say I know my way around.”

“Wow. That long?”

He shrugged. “Ain’t nobody want to hire an old man, especially one who sounds like a country hick and smells like radishes.”

She laughed, and found herself becoming more at ease in the presence of this strange man despite herself. After a few minutes of walking, they reached a small building. The lights were on and she could see people bustling around inside. Georgie ambled over and held the door open for her.

She hovered around the doorway, looking inside. It didn’t seem as though anyone was waiting with a baseball bat; in fact, it seemed to be exactly the ‘soup kitchen’ the man had been describing. She couldn’t hear anyone breathing just inside the door, upon listening carefully.

Georgie gave her a wry smile, sensing her hesitation.

“Now it’s alright, little lady. Even if I wanted to, and I don’t, this old body couldn’t do nothing to hurt you. I don’t have any friends either, if that’s what you’re thinking. You’re perfectly safe.”

She decided to take his word for it, entering the room at a slow and wary pace. It seemed safe enough after all, and no one immediately leapt out from the shadows to knock her unconscious as she crossed the threshold. He followed her in, letting the door swing closed behind him.

The room she was standing in was full of bustling people and the promising smell of food. Volunteers donning gloves were dishing out meals to a ragtag group of people. Georgie put a hand on her back and pulled her gently forwards with him to the counter.

“Look around, see what takes your fancy girlie.”

“It’s Eve,” she corrected, looking at the selection before her. Picking a random sandwich and asking quietly for it, she was handed the food a few seconds later by a smiling volunteer. As she started to eat, she went back and found Georgie.

He was standing apart from much of the crowd, chowing down on what looked like some kind of casserole. He waved her over when he saw her looking at him, and she approached.

“I bet you’re feeling a lot better now, right? And this is a lot safer than what you were trying to do before, anyways. Especially with that arm; you’ll be wanting to keep that clean.” He nodded towards her bandaged arm, and she looked down at it.

“Uh, yeah. I didn’t think of that.”

“Lot of people don’t, until they end up in the hospital with sepsis. And if you’re running from your parents, I imagine that’s the last place you wanna end up. Mind if I ask what happened?”

“I uh, I actually got shot.”

His eyes widened, and he paused mid-bite. “You got something to tell me, gir- Eve, I mean? I want to help you, but I don’t want no trouble with thugs if you understand me.”

“Oh no, it has nothing to do with that. Some kid showed up to school with a gun and started shooting.”

“Sweet Jesus. That must’ve been a ride.”

She shrugged. “It was pretty scary. We’re just lucky no one was killed. This-“ she held up her arm, feeling a jolt of pain run through it, “was the worst casualty.”

He shook his head. “Kids these days… Back in my day, you didn’t have kids shooting kids like this. Really makes you wonder where society’s headed.” He laughed. “Sorry, just caught myself being a right old geezer. Bet you’re sick of hearing the ‘when I was your age’ talk by now.”

“Actually, I like hearing people’s stories. They’re interesting. My own life has always been really cut-and-dry, until recently.”

“What’s changed recently?”

“I uh, started getting into some trouble,” she admitted. He snorted.

“Well I figured that much, or else I wouldn’t have found you digging through trash. What’s your deal; drugs, drink, shoplifting?”

“Nothing like that, oddly enough. Suffice it to say though, I’m pretty sure my Mom kicked me out.” Though now that she thought about it, had she really been kicked out? Or had she just thought so at the time? She had been the one to walk out, after all. If she felt forced out of her own home, did that necessarily mean she had been?

He sighed. “Ah, that’s a real shame. Can’t imagine any parent wanting nothing more to do with a girl like you.”

“Girl like me?”

He waved his hand dismissively. “You’re polite. Upstanding. No drugs, no drink. Seems just fine to me. Hell, I’d be proud of my kids grew up to be half as on the rails as you. Then again, I am a crazy homeless man, so my standards might be a little low.” He finished up, and returned the plates he and Eve had been using to the volunteers. He offered them a hearty thanks and a grin as he headed back towards Eve.

“Do you think they’re looking for you?”

She hadn’t thought about it. For the first time, she stopped to truly consider how her parents might be reacting at this point.

“Honestly? I don’t know.” The mere picture of her father calling the police with a strained voice and white face, her mother crying on the couch… it seemed so impossible, especially given her mother’s behaviour when she had left the house. But that had only been her mother, and if anyone was the religious one in the house it was her. It was, she had to admit, entirely possible that her father had managed to talk some sense into his wife after the fact. She wanted to push the idea aside, to argue that there was no way her parents would ever want her back. But she found that picture more difficult to force from her mind than she would have liked.

“They’ll probably just assume I’m staying at my girlfriend’s house, I guess. At least for a couple of days. I can’t see them panicking for a while.”

“Huh. Girlfriend, is that right? That wouldn’t have something to do with the fact that you’re running, would it?”

She noticed her slip of the tongue, and blushed.

“Oh. Uh, it might.”

“Stupid.”

“What?”

She looked up, seeing that Georgie had become aggravated. He folded his arms, glaring off to the side.

“Stupid, small minded people, those. As far as I’m concerned, it don’t matter whether someone has a ding dong or a hoo hah. People are more than the sum of their parts, you know.”

He started heading for the door. “I’d best be off now. I’d offer you a spot on my park bench, but that’s the funny thing about benches. They only fit one person each when you’re lying down. I’m hoping I’ll see you here tomorrow though, if you haven’t been picked up by the police by then.”

“Uh, yeah. Georgie?”

He turned back.

“Thanks.”

He smiled and wandered off, rambling about young people the whole way. She decided to leave too, heading off onto the street. She couldn’t imagine it being easy to find a place to sleep, so the sooner she started searching the better. Once she had that sorted out, she could start to form a game plan.

She spent a while walking around, looking around for anything that might suit her needs as the sky slowly darkened and the air cooled. She passed a couple of contenders that seemed promising at first, but ended up disappointing her. A park bench that turned out to have handrails cutting down the middle, another that wasn’t stable enough to trust her weight to. She was just starting to accept that her night might be spent on the ground under whatever cover she could find, when a car pulled up near her and someone stepped out.

Eve’s first plan was to run. She had no idea why someone would be stopping and approaching her, and it was too dark to see the car properly. For all she knew, the killer had tracked her down at last. So to say she was surprised when she realised the newcomer was her father was an understatement.

She froze, unsure of how to handle this very unexpected situation. He walked up to her and without a word, pulled her into a hug.

“Dad…”

“I know you don’t like hugs, and I don’t care. Shut up.”

She laughed despite herself. After a moment, he pulled away. She looked down at the ground.

“You guys were looking for me, huh?”

He grimaced. “I was. Your mother… That’s going to be fun to deal with.”

“It’s worse than I thought… Did she uh, tell you anything?”

“She told me everything,” he sighed.

“And?”

“Look Eve, I’ll be the first to admit that I don’t understand this whole thing very well. It’s going to take some time to get used to. But I think kicking you out of the house is a bit extreme. Let’s get you home, and I’ll talk to your Mom.”

She got in the car, and he pulled out onto the road.

“So did she tell you that?”

“Which part?”

“That she was kicking me out.”

“Yeah, she did.”

“So I wasn’t imagining it.”

“Afraid not. Don’t worry, we’ll work all this out. Straight or gay, you’re still my daughter.”

She leaned against him, closing her eyes.

“Thanks, Dad.”

Mr Verbeck had been right; the first thing to become clear as they got home was that Mrs Verbeck planned on being a problem. She proved as much as soon as they walked in. Eve stood aside as the two adults argued for several minutes.

“I don’t want a sinner in our house, Steven! You know that for man to lie with man-“

“The Bible also says that we as fallible humans don’t have the right to judge others. You’ve sinned, I’ve sinned, everyone has. Why does it make a difference that Eve has too? Besides, last time I checked there was nothing in there about women lying with women.”

“Oh, you know what it means!”

“And you know that I’m the one who paid for this house. Right?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“This is my house, Louise. And my house means it’s my rules. So I’ve decided to have a new rule; either Eve’s welcome here, or you’re not. I would choose very carefully if I was you.”

Mrs Verbeck thought about it for a minute, then groaned in defeat when she realised that there was no third option.

“Alright, fine. Come here, Eve.”

Eve hesitated, afraid at this point of how her mother would react. Upon a second prompt, she came towards them at a snail’s pace.

Mrs Verbeck addressed both her husband and her daughter. “No one can deny that this has formed a rift between us. But in the name of forgiveness, which the Lord says is holy, I’m willing to move forwards if everyone else is.”

Mr Verbeck sighed. “Trust her to have to act like she made this decision herself,” he grumbled under his breath. Eve nodded, but said nothing.

With the crisis seemingly averted (despite the caveat that Roxie was no longer allowed in her bedroom, something Eve would gladly accept at this point) she was accepted back into the household with almost open arms. Her mother still seemed deeply uncomfortable with the situation, but she seemed to know she couldn’t argue the point for the time being. So she chose to stick to the occasional snarky remark, showing Eve where she had gotten her own barbed tongue from. At the very least, Eve was relieved to know she wouldn’t be sent to a conversion camp quite yet. And as much as she clearly wanted to, it was impossible for Mrs Verbeck to stop Eve from ever seeing Roxie. To do so would require locking her in her room at all times. As she went to bed that night, Eve spared a thought for old man Georgie, and silently thanked him for the brief time they had spent together.

It was Monday morning when Eve received her next piece of bad news. And as her breathing sped up, she found herself dialling the only phone number that ever mattered