Everyone who came out of the Big Bear Lake Dollar Tree looked like they were a single paycheck away from joining the trio of homeless men on the bench outside. Three men for whom only the bond of homelessness could bring together. A grandfatherly type surrounded by plastic bags, clutching the butt of his cigarette for dear life. Another stretching into middle age, silent, dressed in tattered hunting camouflage. The third was in cross-country ski tights that had seen better days and a faded Gore-Tex jacket. He was regaling the other two with an itemized receipt of all the toiletries he’d just scored for under ten bucks.
Ray kept his distance from the three stooges. They were the first and only homeless he’d seen in the several weeks since getting into town and were probably territorial. Ev
