Read Online London Harmony: Small Fry by Erik Schubach - Free Book Online
Authors: Erik Schubach
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was.
It would feel like charity if I offered to buy dinner first. It is a pride thing. When you feel you can't sink any lower, it is almost like a slap in the face when someone offers something you need. You thought your pride couldn't sink any lower, but you want so badly to say yes, to take what is offered. That makes you feel like less than nothing, and the anger comes.
She looked at my face finally and she asked, “You're not turning me in?” Then she glanced over at her food before I could answer and added, “I don't have much.”
I shook my head. “I know how it is, I've been there. It isn't my place, but even if it was. You never get your friends thrown out on the street.”
I saw her grinding her teeth and she said, “You don't know a bloody thing about me. Your clothes are all high end, you're just being nice to the poor homeless girl. I'm not a charity case. When I finish college, I'll get a flat of my own.”
I locked eyes with her and let mine narrow a bit, though I loved her moxie. “I've been exactly where you are. Living on the streets and abandoned buildings with my sister. Thinking we couldn't sink any lower. But we did! We resorted to stealing from people to pay for food, clothing, medicines. Until the day we took the hand of someone offering us respect and love, and let them help us.”
Then I softened and took her hand, she tried to yank away but I held it and said, “This is only temporary. Things will get better, and you'll come out the other side all the stronger for it.” I glanced around. “You're actually set up better than we had been. So I'm positive that things will get brighter.”
Then I smiled. “And you're surrounded by books and knowledge.” She gave a crooked dimpled smile at that.
Then she just nodded once. I stood up, taking my phone for light. “Be back in a jiff.” Then I hurried through the maze and down the stairs. I smiled at Mr. Myong, who was mopping the lobby. As usual, he just stared at me without a word before going back to work.
There was one woman, who looked like a professor, in a back nook. She seemed lost in her notes and the book she had open before her. I grinned then knocked on the frame of the nook lightly. The woman looked up and back quickly then at her watch. She gave an embarrassed smile and packed up her stuff, leaving the book in the refile basket for me. She apologized in a rich British accent that had a hard edge mixed in, like German or Hungarian. “Terribly sorry. I get so engrossed in my research at times.”
I just grinned back and assured her, “It happens to all of us ma'am.” She nodded at that then I escorted her to the door and let her out. I looked up, like I could see through to the attic, then hustled over to the break room beside the office and poured out the pot of stale coffee, and started a new pot.
When it was done I grabbed one of the emergency flashlights, which was labeled 'emergency torch' amusingly enough, and two cups of coffee and headed back to the labyrinth with a grin. I admitted I was excited to go back to see her again. I mean, you did see those dimples, right?
I left the light off this time and navigated using the flashlight. I reached her cubby and knocked on the shelf. “Knock knock.” Then I poked my head in.
She was illuminated in the candle light and her eyes were big, afraid, as she looked at me. She looked intently at my hair and bandanna then asked, “Fran?”
I narrowed my eyes and stepped through the blanket partition and she seemed to relax as I said, “Of course.” Then I quickly held up the white cardboard cups. “Fresh coffee.”
She almost pounced on the one I offered her as we sat down. This time she didn't sit close to the exit. Then she looked at the shelf beside her. “I don't have much.” She grabbed some crackers, granola bars, and some beef jerky and set them between us.
I smiled and
It would feel like charity if I offered to buy dinner first. It is a pride thing. When you feel you can't sink any lower, it is almost like a slap in the face when someone offers something you need. You thought your pride couldn't sink any lower, but you want so badly to say yes, to take what is offered. That makes you feel like less than nothing, and the anger comes.
She looked at my face finally and she asked, “You're not turning me in?” Then she glanced over at her food before I could answer and added, “I don't have much.”
I shook my head. “I know how it is, I've been there. It isn't my place, but even if it was. You never get your friends thrown out on the street.”
I saw her grinding her teeth and she said, “You don't know a bloody thing about me. Your clothes are all high end, you're just being nice to the poor homeless girl. I'm not a charity case. When I finish college, I'll get a flat of my own.”
I locked eyes with her and let mine narrow a bit, though I loved her moxie. “I've been exactly where you are. Living on the streets and abandoned buildings with my sister. Thinking we couldn't sink any lower. But we did! We resorted to stealing from people to pay for food, clothing, medicines. Until the day we took the hand of someone offering us respect and love, and let them help us.”
Then I softened and took her hand, she tried to yank away but I held it and said, “This is only temporary. Things will get better, and you'll come out the other side all the stronger for it.” I glanced around. “You're actually set up better than we had been. So I'm positive that things will get brighter.”
Then I smiled. “And you're surrounded by books and knowledge.” She gave a crooked dimpled smile at that.
Then she just nodded once. I stood up, taking my phone for light. “Be back in a jiff.” Then I hurried through the maze and down the stairs. I smiled at Mr. Myong, who was mopping the lobby. As usual, he just stared at me without a word before going back to work.
There was one woman, who looked like a professor, in a back nook. She seemed lost in her notes and the book she had open before her. I grinned then knocked on the frame of the nook lightly. The woman looked up and back quickly then at her watch. She gave an embarrassed smile and packed up her stuff, leaving the book in the refile basket for me. She apologized in a rich British accent that had a hard edge mixed in, like German or Hungarian. “Terribly sorry. I get so engrossed in my research at times.”
I just grinned back and assured her, “It happens to all of us ma'am.” She nodded at that then I escorted her to the door and let her out. I looked up, like I could see through to the attic, then hustled over to the break room beside the office and poured out the pot of stale coffee, and started a new pot.
When it was done I grabbed one of the emergency flashlights, which was labeled 'emergency torch' amusingly enough, and two cups of coffee and headed back to the labyrinth with a grin. I admitted I was excited to go back to see her again. I mean, you did see those dimples, right?
I left the light off this time and navigated using the flashlight. I reached her cubby and knocked on the shelf. “Knock knock.” Then I poked my head in.
She was illuminated in the candle light and her eyes were big, afraid, as she looked at me. She looked intently at my hair and bandanna then asked, “Fran?”
I narrowed my eyes and stepped through the blanket partition and she seemed to relax as I said, “Of course.” Then I quickly held up the white cardboard cups. “Fresh coffee.”
She almost pounced on the one I offered her as we sat down. This time she didn't sit close to the exit. Then she looked at the shelf beside her. “I don't have much.” She grabbed some crackers, granola bars, and some beef jerky and set them between us.
I smiled and
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