19

 

Teddy’s first view of the city reminded him of a larger Jubilee.

Spotting two bars and a gentleman’s club named Nasty’s on the edge of town, he realized this was not like Jubilee at all. A family-friendly town, Jubilee didn’t have any clubs or bars—at least not within the town’s limits.

Next came the blue collar businesses and shops, such as auto mechanics, construction companies, and small owner factories. A few cars and trucks were parked near these buildings but not as many as at the more libertine businesses down the street.

Following in line were rows and rows of big, middle-sized, and small houses painted in a cornucopia of colors. Blues, greens, reds, yellows, and whites filled each block, only to start over again on the next block. Each house displayed Christmas lights, often blinking in a fluky synchronization with lights from other houses. Christmas trees, snowmen, sleds, and other seasonal ornaments adorned the lawns and roofs.

The city’s business district showed a desire to compete with the larger, more modern cities. The asphalt roadways that had been prevalent in the blue collar and housing districts evolved to cement roads complete with decorative, oversized basketball-shaped street lights. Black cast-iron poles that curved near the top supported the lamps so their light illuminated the edge of the street. Contrasting golden stripes encircled the posts in a candy cane-esque look. For the holiday season, additional green and red Christmas lights crisscrossed the posts, splitting the ebony metal into numerous five-inch quadrants.

The public library sat just where Christy had described. An elaborate—yet old—three-story building with stone pillars guarding the entrance; its gray block construction gave it the appearance of a historic Civil War-era building. The twelve-foot, wooden, French doors added a sense of class to an otherwise boring city block.

As he turned into the alley, an assemblage of smells rushed to meet him. A stench from discarded food, urine, and the occasional vomit activated his gag reflex. Choking against the smells, he hurried down the alley, monitoring his steps so as to not step into something disgusting. Without having the opportunity to change or wash his clothes since his journey began, he wasn’t the sweetest smelling man around, but that didn’t keep him from wanting to stay as clean as possible.

The blue dumpster rested near the middle of the long alley. Although its lid was closed, the funk from discarded Chinese food seeped through the metal like alcohol through a drunkard’s pores. Strategically located next to the kitchen door of a Chinese restaurant, he wondered if the cooks used its close proximity to haphazardly toss in food remnants from the kitchen. By the look of the alley floor, the staff missed more than hit their intended target. Wontons, half-eaten egg rolls, and a splattering of rice and noodles formed a sea of discarded food on the alley’s deck.

An enclave of cardboard boxes used as shelter sat against the alley wall far enough away from the jettisoned buffet to allow a flow of semi-fresh air. Parked next to one “house,” Teddy spotted a blue, plastic shopping cart overflowing with aluminum cans, newspapers, and other odd items. A dirty, brown blanket—Teddy thought it may have been red at one time—covered the entrance. A Christmas wreath that had shed most of its plastic leaves had been duct taped to the outside of the cardboard home.

He crept within touching distance of the “door” of the enclave, his eyes alert for any sign of trouble. He wished Christy had given him the name of the person he was supposed to meet, but that wasn’t her style. She was probably watching him now, having a good laugh. He knelt, careful to not drop his knee in anything wet or sticky, calling, “Hello? Anybody in there?”

No answer.

He’d just extended his hand toward the blanket to pull it to the side when it whipped open. Startled, he leapt away from the “house.” Spider-crawling backward, he slammed the back of his head into the brick wall on the opposite side of the alley, sending a knife-like stab of pain through his head. Crumpling onto the alley floor, there was only one thing he could do: wait for the beast to emerge from the cardboard cave to devour him. Still reeling from his confrontation with Flagg and his bone-hand, anything could be expected.

A colossal, plump lady wearing a dress covered with flowers of various colors crawled through the small opening. Much like waking a hibernating bear, she grunted and growled her displeasure at being summoned. Stains and spots that he assumed were the menu of past meals dotted her dress, co-mingling with the original pattern. The collars of several articles of clothing bulged from underneath the neck of her dress, revealing that she—like many homeless persons—wore her entire wardrobe every day. Strands of gray hair poked from underneath a black, canvas hat straight from the 1909 Sears, Roebuck and Company catalogue. Green leggings covered her thick legs—reminding Teddy of monster zucchinis—and scuffed, black, combat boots on her feet.

“Who are you? What do you want?” she demanded in a gravelly voice. He couldn’t tell if her tone suggested she was frightened or just someone to not mess with. When her eyebrows furrowed and her eyes turned to steel, he quickly decided it was the latter.

The urge to run had become too familiar over the past days and it washed over him now with force. He tried to get to his feet, but the shooting pain from his head forced him back to the alley floor. Images of his father and Ezi burst into his mind’s eye, reminding him that he hadn’t been taught to withdraw when things got tough. He’d already tried to abandon the biggest game of his life, which was his life. With quitting came shame and he’d already been embarrassed by his actions more times than he liked to remember. He straightened as best as his awkward position would allow while saying, “I was sent here.” Teddy’s voice betrayed him. His fear caused his words to sound shakier than he would have liked. He needed to maintain an air of confidence. He cleared his throat. “To find you.”

“To find who?” She straightened to a full height that had to be at least six feet.

“You…I guess.” Teddy stared wide-eyed at the behemoth woman. His mouth dried as her shadow fully consumed him. He tried backing away but the wall behind him blocked his escape.

“You don’t even know me,” she said, glancing from one end of the alley to the other before looking down on him.

“N-no.”

“Then how can you be looking for me?” She placed her hands on her hips, making her look more intimidating.

“I…” He cleared his throat again. “I was told to come into this alley, and the person I sought would be here.”

“And I’m the only person here,” she finished, nodding.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Who sent you?”she asked, leaning toward him.

He almost expected flames to explode from her mouth.

“This…um, is going to sound crazy…and I don’t want you to get the wrong idea…but, a ten-year-old girl named Christy sent me.”

“Christy, huh?” She straightened to her full height.

He pushed off the wall, helping himself to his feet. If she decided to attack, at least he could try to outrun her. “Do you know her?”

“No.”

Teddy dropped his head. Was it possible that Flagg could be right? That he was the victim of lies? His wife had lied. His partner had lied. He had lied to himself. Was Christy lying also?

He examined the homeless woman once more before shaking his head and turning toward the mouth of the alley. Part of him was happy to leave while the part which wanted to be finished with the depression wondered what he would do now. If she wasn’t the one, he didn’t have a clue how to find the right woman. He’d followed Christy’s directions, but she had been the only person in the alley.

He wouldn’t give up. He couldn’t. He’d canvass every alley around the library until he found her. If those alleys yielded negative results, he’d widened his search. It would be time consuming, but he still had four days until Christmas.

“Where are you going?” she called from behind him.

Teddy turned around. “Look. I’m sorry I’ve interrupted your…life. But, you’re obviously not the woman I was sent to meet. I’ll just leave you alone and be on my way.” He turned to continue his path to the end of the alley.

“I didn’t say I wasn’t the woman. All I said was that I didn’t know any Christy.”

Teddy spun around and took two steps toward her. “So, you’re…her?”

“I might be.” she said, lifting her head.

“How will I…um, how will we know?”

She waved him closer. “Tell me about this Christy.”

He told her about Christy being in his boxcar as he tried to escape his past, about her claim to be able to help him by having three teachers school him in the basic lessons of life, and her penchant for staying clean even in the filthiest of places.

He left out the confrontation with Flagg. Bringing up the skeleton man would only initiate more questions; questions to which he had no answers. He wanted to forget ever meeting the man.

The fog of confusion continued to cloud his mind on Flagg’s intentions.

The woman nodded as she listened.

“What’s your name?” she asked, once he finished.

“Teddy.”

“Mine’s Yebo.” She pronounced it Yea-bo.

“Yebo?”

She nodded. “I know it’s unusual and you’ve probably guessed that it’s not my real name, but it’s the one by which I’m known.”

“Yebo.” He repeated, planting it into his memory.

“It’s a long story. The short version is when I was new to this…alternative lifestyle”—Yebo waved her arm in a whirlwind fashion around her—“I didn’t know anything about maintaining personal hygiene in this type of environment—nor did I care. I know it sounds disgusting and it was. I’m sure you can imagine how difficult it would be to maintain a sense of cleanliness, especially since I no longer had the accessibility of a bathtub or deodorant, and I have such a large acreage to maintain.” She chuckled at her own expense. Teddy noticed that her teeth were especially white for having lived on the street for any period of time. “Well, needless to say, I developed a major case of body odor.” She fanned the air in front of her face as she scrunched her nose. “So when people saw me coming, they would say ‘Yeah, B.O.’ Eventually that shortened to Yebo. But, I learned.” She raised her right arm and sniffed her armpit. “Yes, I did. And none too soon.” She giggled. “Too well, I guess. All the newbies now come to me for hygiene lessons.”

Teddy noticed that she didn’t seem bothered by the fact that she lived a simple life on the street without a real house or anything of substantial value to call her own. On the contrary, she seemed to enjoy it.

Yebo continued, “If it makes you too uncomfortable to call me by my street name, you can call me by my birth name: Dorothy.”

“No, I kinda like Yebo.” He smiled at her. Once she became relaxed she wasn’t so scary. Her size probably played to her advantage as well. .

Yebo ambled a few paces toward the end of the alley before turning to face him. “I guess you’re wondering if I’m the one. It’s true that I’ve never met Christy, but my special person—Christine—mentioned that you would be coming.” She glanced quickly over her shoulder. “So I guess I’m your teacher.”

“May I ask a question?”

Her eyes shifted from the mouth of the alley back to him. “That’s why you’re here—to learn.”

“Why do you keep looking around?”

Yebo dropped her head. “Is it that obvious?” After he nodded, she continued, “I don’t realize I’m doing it anymore.” She leaned against the wall. “Life on the street is dangerous so a person has to continually check her surroundings. There are people out there—bad people—who don’t care who they steal from or what they have to do to steal. A simple thing as a bag of soda cans can cost a homeless person her life. Then there are the juveniles who think beating a homeless person senseless is a game. No one in this city will prosecute good boys for having a little fun—especially when those boys come from prominent families. We—the homeless—have learned to keep a keen eye out for trouble and look out for one another.”

“I’ve never even considered that. It must be a tough.”

“It’s part of my life now.” She looked anxiously toward the mouth of the alley. “I would love to tell you more but it’s dinner time and if we’re not near the front of the serving line at the community shelter we might not get a piece of fruit.” Her face was creased with genuine concern—apprehension over a simple piece of fruit. “I promise we’ll talk later, but we need to go…now.” She turned, walking away with a brisk step. “I hope they have apples. I just love apples.”