There's A Place For Us

Chapter 2:Timothy

I saw him when I first arrived in the morning and ignored him like most people did. I’d glossed over his sign that said he was homeless. I went past him and walked along the cobblestone path to the Science Theatres to wait for my eleven o’clock class to start. I checked my email, my messages, and my homework. Everything was done and up to date. I sat on the floor listening to music and reading a fiction book when I should have been reading one of my textbooks. I would die if I didn’t absorb at least a little bit of fiction every day though.

I always felt sorry for the homeless, like they deserved more especially public sympathy. We didn’t know why they were in this position. What life had thrown their way. My parents would give them change every once in a while, mainly when I was younger, but they were always worried they’d use it for alcohol or drugs. I was tired and sore, last night had been a late one due to my one night class of the week, and I was excited to go home after this one class. My geology professor droned on and on about sediment rocks, I wasn’t complaining, it was one of the easier enjoyable classes I had. I would have described my professor as eccentric if I had to pick one word. I got through the class and wrote down my homework assignment. I exited the theatre and turned my music back on as I walked back to the train station. I was surprised he was sitting at the bottom of the ramp. As I climbed the stairs I read over his sign again and one thing stood out. The number: 16. This kid was sixteen? How was he homeless? It also said he had no family. Wasn’t he supposed to be in foster care or something? The number shocked me. I continued walking until I was out of others’ way. I stood there thinking about that. He was supposed to be in school, high school right now.

The more I thought about the more ridiculous all the complaints I’d ever had about my life seemed to be. I looked around to see how crowded it was and if the foot traffic was going to let up any time soon. It didn’t seem that it was. I considered what I could do for the kid. I could give him change but I wanted to do more.

“Hey, kid!” I called.

He didn’t move a muscle, I was worried he’d frozen to death.

“Kid?” I questioned again stepping closer.

People were staring. He looked up then. It was the first time I’d seen his face. It looked older than mine, tired, dark circles under his dulled, blue eyes. He seemed scared like I was going to beat him up or something. I nodded towards the university.

“Come on,” I said.

He looked surprised and confused. He got up in a rush though. Folding his sign and grabbing his cup full of coins. Once he stood up I noticed he was taller than me. I led him inside the science building and he followed me. I was surprised by his naivety. I led him to the only restaurant in the science building since the others were across campus and I didn’t feel like walking there or that he’d want to be dragged there.

“What do you want?” I asked digging for my wallet.

His eyes still looked scared. Like this was sure to be a joke. He looked from me to the menu carefully. Others were looking, I guess he did seem a little out of place in his baggy, unwashed clothes. I warded them off by staring back and they got the hint. This could have been anyone of their younger brothers, it could have been them if life had gone any differently for them.

I wanted to give him a place to sleep that wasn’t a park bench or shelter but I didn’t know if I could trust him in my apartment. I could lose my laptop or a TV or my wallet. But he was sixteen, this wasn’t where he was supposed to be. Every child should get the chance to have an education and a childhood. He was missing out on the high school experience. Friends, learning to drive, and the freedom just before adulthood.

He finally decided he just wanted fries. He seemed modest at least. He didn’t ask for a lot. I decided to get him a large fry and an apple juice. We waited for his order and I paid. He was grateful, again. He seemed so happy just to have food. I was too used to getting food three times a day if not more that I didn’t understand the happiness he got over just having one singular meal.

I thought about just leaving him to fend for himself that night but I couldn’t do it. I didn’t know how to approach him about it. We sat down at a table together. He politely wolfed the fries down and sipped on the apple juice. I took out the novel I was currently reading and skimmed the few previous chapters I’d read not really reading just staring at the words.

“What’s your name?” I finally decided to ask.

He swallowed the fries he had in his mouth and glanced around nervously again.

“Hugo,” he answered.

I wanted to laugh. Was someone expecting him to become a famous author? When I thought of the name Hugo, I thought of Victor Hugo, a famous French poet, and novelist. I hadn’t read anything of his personally, but I knew of him from high school English classes.

“I’m Timothy,” I introduced myself.

“Nice to meet you, Timothy. Thanks for the food,” he replied smiling a bit.

“Do you have a place to stay tonight?” I asked.

“No,” he answered nervously.

I paused mulling over my own offer, I could replace the things if I got robbed. This kid needed to be given a bone for once in his life instead of constantly chasing after it.

“Do you want to stay at my place?” I asked.

“No, no. I don’t think that’s necessary. I think I’ll be fine,” he replies quickly.

“I’m fine with it. I insist,” I reassure him.

He looked up at me from his fries.

“There are no strings attached to this in some way, right?” Hugo asks.

It was my turn to be confused. What was he talking about?

“You know, I don’t have to do any favours in exchange for the housing?” he questions.

Ahh, I wanted to laugh but I didn’t. Was he talking about s****l favours? I wasn’t thinking about that at all but was it that obvious I was into guys?

“No, no, no,” I replied still wanting to laugh.

I was going to say more but people often hated when others did things out of sympathy for another so I just repeated my question, “So, how about it?”

He seemed to be considering it.

“I don’t want to be a burden,” he starts quietly.

“You won’t be. I live alone. It’s my choice,” I reassured him again.

He stares at me considering it.

“Are you sure?” he asks quietly.

“As long as you promise not to steal anything, okay?” I reply.

“I promise,” he pleads quickly, excited to have a place to call home for the night.