By R.M. Ridley

Jessie pressed the frayed and worn felt tip to the cinderblock of the wall once again. She hoped that she could get this done before the permanent marker had to be given up for dead. She took one quick glance around the dimly lit alley to make sure there were no cops or busybodies. Convinced she was unnoticed, the way she had learned was best, she wrote.

She made the letters an inch high and as clear as she could, given the limits the marker was imposing on her in it’s final stages. She finished, the last word a hell of a lot fainter than she’d like but it was there, when she heard a voice behind her. A man, speaking softly the very words she had hoped to be able to get up.

“…soft as a black dove’s feather – the death of careless dreams. Cold as iron and ice – the fetters of their ghostly screams.”

Jessie was paralyzed. The way he’d read her words, sounded like the owner of that voice liked what she’d written. If it were a cop though that wouldn’t mean he wouldn’t slap her with a vandalism charge. If she were brought before a judge, this time there would be the fact that she hadn’t finished the community service, plus running away again. If she were lucky that would add up to time in juevy. If she were unlucky they’d slap one of those new gadgets on her ankle and give her house arrest. A single tear threatened to spill. She’d kill herself this time, instead of letting that bitch have the pleasure of ending up doing it to her.

She knew she should turn but if it were a cop he’d just have her facing the wall again as soon as she did. If it wasn’t a cop, well she couldn’t allow anyone else to see her weeping. To let that kind of weakness show would mean a whole other kind of judging and the street met out harsh sentences. The scar on her shoulder was reminder of that. There she stood, staring at her own verse, wondering if getting it out of her head had been worth it.

“It’s your best so far.”

“Yes” Jesse said not sure if she was answering the voice behind her or the one inside. Either way it broke her paralysis. She took a step sideways, to get out from between the wall and the man and turned to face him. Once she did, it was clear how he’d read the poem while she’d been writing it; he loomed over her.

Jesse took another step back and the man put his hand up, palms out.

“Hey, relax. Just a fan of your work. It’s Jesse right?”

“So what if it is?” She countered in her most aggressive voice. She was a bit creeped out by the fact that this guy not only seemed to know who she was but had purposely found her just to see her graffiti – if that is his purpose.

“I’m Vaska.” he dropped his hands to his sides and gave a little shrug. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. I just – well I wanted to see how you worked. You know, was it all worked out on paper first. Or did it flow out of you. I suspected it flowed and now I guess I’m right.”

“It’s not like there’s no work in it you know.” She smacked the side of her temple, “It plays in my damn head for days and I work the words till it feels-.” Jesse realized she’d not only been pulled into talking to this stranger but was explaining her self – her inner self to him. She pushed at the space in front of her. “Yeah know what? Whatever! Glad you liked the poem.” She was turning away from him, towards the other open end of the alley, when he spoke again.

“Have you ever thought about seeing if you could get them published?”

Was he for real? Jesse turned back and stared at him in astounded disgust. She could see him better now. He had moved away to lean his shoulder against the wall and it had brought him into a splash of light from the street.

He was tall. Even leaning she could see he was well over six feet but he was lanky. This didn’t make her any less wary. At over six foot, lanky would out weight her five – four even if she was built like her cow of a mother. She had mostly got her dad’s genes though, add that to the diet her current situation offered and he could probably palm her and carry her off.

He was wearing a scruffy, frayed dark coat. It was long with wide lapels and under it a red t-shirt that advertised some band she’d never heard of which hung over a pair of jeans. His hair was a mop just coming to his shoulders, it was a rich brown but it looked like he’d dyed a single chunk of it a bluish black. His face might have been good looking but she found it too angular. He was smiling disarmingly at her and she couldn’t believe how strong the urge to just talk to him was.

“It really is good enough.” He continued now as though he hadn’t noticed her scrutinizing him. It was then that the sky, which had threatened rain all day, began to make good on the threat. It was just spitting but a rumble indicated it wouldn’t stay that way for long. The desire to hang around and chat dissolved with the rain.

“Thanks. O.K. Really. It’s nice of you to say it. But we both know that ain’t happening.”

Still leaning against the wall, as indifferent to the rain as he’d been to her scrutiny, he went on despite what she’d said.

“Don’t see why not. I’m sure you’re hiding your talent like this for a reason but there’s ways around any obstacle. I know someone – runs an online thing. It pays. Not like much, a few cents a word. But hey, a buck or two now and then, makes a difference doesn’t it?”

“Even if it did, and even if I believed you – it’s not like I’ve got a hotmail address or a bank account.”

“So? I could do the in-between work.” He pushed himself off the wall now, but casually, with out moving towards her. Jesse shifted so she’d be able to run just the same. It was starting to rain in earnest now and she was getting a little sick of this guy’s game.

“Right, with a little off the top for you? More likely you already copied a few and got paid for them and now you don’t feel like hunting all over to find another. And you know what? You won’t have to! ‘Cause I’m never gonna put up another!” She spun and stomped away but not so fast she didn’t hear his answer or the way he sounded truly stung by her words.

“I would never do that. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have approached you. Please don’t stop – I’ve become a junky for your words.”

Somehow that seemed like the most horrid and therefore highest praise, someone could say about her verses. She looked back. She told herself it was to make sure he wasn’t following her but that wasn’t all of the reason.

He was gone.

She stopped. He must have full out run to get out of the alley that fast yet she hadn’t heard him doing it. Once more feeling creeped out by the guy who’d called himself Vaska – what kind of a name was that anyway – Jesse hurried to get out of the alley.

She was no more then twenty feet from the street when four guys turned off it into the alley. This isn’t my day, she thought. Then she saw who they were and Jesse had to fight from panicking. Three of the four were bad enough – a crew that she’d been warned by others to ’keep out of their way and they’ll mostly leave you alone’.

Ryan was a recent addition though. He’d belonged to another cadre of those living off what they could but had been kicked out because he’d be doing things that could get the cops serious attention. No one ever said what those things were, but what they didn’t spoke volumes. Apparently he’d attached himself to this group. Jesse didn’t feel it was a positive addition. She was going to just try and sidle past them when Ryan spoke.

“See fella’s – told ya I heard some bitch hollering.”

Even from the distance she was, the smell of hops was strong. Jesse didn’t hesitate a moment longer, she spun and fled down the way she’d just been marveling at how fast Vaska had gone.

The tunnel made of cinderblocks and apartment brick seemed endless and she wished she had legs as long as her admirer. She heard taunts behind her and already they were far too close. Her eyes went longingly to the bottom of the fire escape that was coming up but only barked a harsh laugh of a breath. She was neither tall enough nor heavy enough to get the ladder down. Jesse thought she saw movement on one of the levels of that steel skeleton gripping the side of the apartment. Before she could scream out something slammed into her back. As she was tumbling to the ground, Jesse heard a hollow tin sound.

Her palms erupted in fire as they skidded over the grit on the asphalt but the white-hot pain of her right knee, which had hit first, overwhelmed it. She rolled over onto her side and clutched her knee to her chest. The fresh pain in her hands made her open her eyes. Right beside her, was the lid of a steel garbage can. Jesse realized one of the bastards – One? It was Ryan and you know it – had thrown it at her. She thought of the scar on her shoulder then slowly, as much at a time as her knee would allow, uncurled herself. She flopped to her back and just lie there as the rain pelted her in the face, soaking into her front and back. Just turn off your mind, go somewhere else inside.

Then she saw him on the fire escape above her. He was looking at her and, despite the distance and rain the in her eyes, she clearly saw him. He told her to get up. She could hear the guys taking their time getting to her now. No need to rush. She looked up at him. He could roll down the ladder for her but there was no way she’d be able to climb it with her knee. He was watching her. Hands resting lightly on the thin black rail, dark eyes never flickering away from her face. And then she was getting up.

Jesse heard her attackers comment on her intelligence or more accurately her lack of it: Ryan said it was all right ‘cause he liked a little fight.

Jesse tried hard not to pay attention, not to worry about them – yet. She tested her knee and although it would take her weight she hardly doubted she’d be able to climb. She felt sick but then she saw Vaska casually vault over the railing. He seemed to fall in slow motion. He winked at her and she wiped the rain out of her eyes. It’s the adrenaline. In situations like this, time gets all hinky.

“Hey. You done running honey?” The voice was right behind her. Startled, she turned and looked into Ryan’s eyes. If Vaska had creeped her out, Ryan’s eyes were enough to make here truly bat shit. There was something lurking there that said a lot about how tenuous his hold to sanity was. Only unlike most of them out here whose grasp was so weak, the only thing left behind was sick and ugly.

Ryan started reaching out a hand for her and Vaska, from where he had seemingly appeared beside them, said, “Hands to yourself.”

They both gave a start when he spoke. Jesse used the moment to scramble back as best she could, though it made the throb in her knee a spike. Ryan recovered himself quickly and glared at Vaska. If he was put off by the fact that this guy had a good seven inches on him he didn’t show it. In fact, now that Jesse was looking at the situation, she thought she’d be best to just start away as fast as she could and hope one of the others didn’t hold her till it was done. Ryan was beefy, and none of the other three, though shorter, were any smaller. Plus it was four to one. Then something completely unexpected happened. One of the other guys spoke up.

“Hey Ryan. Let it go. Come on, lets see if we can still get a beer at The Rhino huh?”

Ryan shook his head. “No, I don’t think so Johnny. First I’m going deal with Lurch here, then we can help our selves to some of that.” He made a vague gesture in her direction.”

“Ryan is it?” Vaska inquired, “I think your friend there has come up with the best plan. There is no need for any further violence. You leave the girl alone – forever – and everyone stays happy.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are? I mean, nice coat asshole. What is it, like a hundred years old? You couldn’t even steal a real coat and you think your gonna be able to take me and my boys?”

“Uh Ryan…” Johnny said hesitantly

“My father gave me this coat, so I’ll have to ask you don’t insult it.”

“Your such a queer.”

“Ryan!”

“What!” Ryan spun around to face Johnny finally. “What? You want to go? Go! We can handle it, can’t we guys.” Ryan grinned at the other two. When they didn’t say anything, looking away instead, he screamed, “What’s wrong with you three?”

Jesse had begun to wonder the same thing. She had noticed long before Ryan had turned, the way in which Johnny had been studying Vaska. The way he’d nudged the others and mouthed things to them. She wiped the water out of her eyes for the hundredth time. The rain was really coming down now but it had washed her palms clean. She should have been taking this opportunity to just get out of there. It was great of Vaska to stand up to them for her and all but there were limits. He was still a stranger and she was still in a potentially nasty place.

It was Johnny who finally answered Ryan. “There’s no way man. I won’t mess with one of them. Nothing good comes from it.”

Ryan’s face was flush; Jesse almost expected to see steam coming out his ears. His eyes had begun to dart back and forth: His hands erratically clenching. “What the hell are you jerk offs babbling about?

“Look at him Ryan. Look.”

Ryan spun around as though Vaska might be attacking while his back was turned but Vaska was still standing, relaxed, right where he had been. A tire iron had appeared in Ryan’s hands when he spun. Jesse was glad it hadn’t been that Ryan had thrown at her. A moment later she felt guilty for the thought. One on one it would have been a tough call between the two but the tire iron suddenly tipped the scales. The good feeling she’d been getting that the other three weren’t going to get involved had disappeared. It was the speed that it had just appeared that really made her worry for Vaska.

Ryan spread his hands out. “What?”

“Look! Really look at him. For Christ’s sake”

Now even Jesse was looking, really looking, at him and she was seeing. Vaska gave her a grin while she blinked three times in rapid succession. It was easy to not notice it in the downpour but impossible to imagine you could have, once you saw it. He was dry. Vaska’s hair was just as it had been when she’d been talking to him earlier; the water was just beading and bouncing off him. Not just his hair but also his clothes and even his face.

Ryan caught the stunned look on her face and it was too much for him. With a curse, he swung the tire iron down. Jesse screamed even as Vaska took a quick step to the side and missed being hit by less then an inch.

Instead of moving or retaliating Vaska simply said, “Go away now Ryan.”

Ryan swung again and Vaska stepped out of the way effortlessly. Once more Ryan tried and it was as though Vaska had never been there in the first place – but only by an inch or so. By now though Vaska had rotated around so that Ryan faced her and the rest of them were beside him.

The fourth strike. Vaska caught Ryan’s wrist on its way past and twisted it. The tire iron spiraled away as Ryan gave a cry of pain. Then Vaska, holding up his one arm like a parent with an errant child, slapped him with the flat of his hand three times. It had to be the most humiliating way that Vaska could have treated him. He had publicly treated him like a child. Ryan would have a bruised face and a swollen lip for a time and it would be clear it wasn’t a fist.

Jesse overwhelmed by it all, the effective removal of Ryan from any social context on the street, her own rescue and the fact that it was by a stranger who was standing in a down pour remaining dry – and don’t forget the way he came down from the fire escape. Suddenly she found she was giggling uncontrollably, then she was crying but she didn’t care now. It wouldn’t show much in this rain and she had a feeling nobody in this alley was going to mention if she sobbed.

Vaska came near with out getting too close and asked if she was all right. She felt she was going start laughing again. After all that, he didn’t want to startle her by coming too close. After how fast she saw he could move, after he’d helped her for no reason. Maybe the reason will come yet. Unable to trust herself not to bray either a sob or a laugh, she only nodded.

“Good. You can walk?” Again she found it easier to just nod. “They’re not going to bother you again, I shouldn’t think. You going to be ok?”

- Now it comes, let me walk you somewhere. You got a place ’cause you could come home with me. He doesn’t get wet in the RAIN! -

Once more, the all purpose movement of the head. “Alright then. If you change your mind, about the verses being somewhere other then the wall just let people know your looking for me. The ones who are painting the underpasses or talking to the little people, tell them you want me and I’ll find you.”

Jesse watched as he wandered off into the rain, his hair bouncing, his step easy and light. Almost she called out to ask, but there were already enough things she couldn’t work out in her life, what was one more? She tilted her head back and let the rain run over her face. She opened her mouth -and drank in a few of the stars above her tears’ - and with that line spinning in her head, gathering new words to it, she hobbled to the street.