slickly, not making a big deal out of it; like he'd no doubt done a million times before; and he grinned. "Double or nothing?"
Vincent noticed Gill waving at him from across the park. "My Warden over there says I have to go back to work now." He demurred. "Maybe later?"
"Won't be here later. Park's open. Gets a lot of cold." Checkov said. "Cold wind comes in; wind chill point drops like a rock."
Vincent sobered. "The weather guy said that it's going to be well below freezing later tonight. You got a place to go?"
"Ain't the first cold snap I've lived through." Checkov got up, one hand still in the pocket where he was keeping his winnings. "Be seeing you."
Vincent turned to go with Gill, then stopped and handed Checkov a bit of scrap paper with his address scribbled on it. "Listen, there's an apartment building with a laundry room in the basement. It gets locked at nine, but tonight it'll be left unlocked. I've put a few space heaters down there. If you don't have a place to go tonight..."
Checkov looked floored by the gesture. "Thank you." He took the card carefully. "I promise, I won' tell any'ne."
Vincent made his goodbyes and headed back to the office with Gill.
"What are you doing?" Gill asked him blankly as they walked away.
"What do you mean?"
"You can't give people like that your address."
Vincent sighed. "Gill, it's freezing tonight. I'm not giving them my home address, just the building, and…"
" Them ? Exactly how many hard-luck cases are you pulling off the street tonight?"
"… and the stairwell doors get locked after nine. They want to sleep in the laundry, it's not like they can go anywhere else in the building."
"Better pray you're right, or the neighbors will lynch you."
"Last year the Homeless could sleep on top of the heating vents behind hotels and office buildings to stay warm. But now a lot of the building owners have put up angled covers on the vents so anybody trying to stay warm will slide off. They got nowhere else to-"
"How do you know that ?"
"Dickie Bricks told me."
"Who, or what, in the name of whoever, is Dickie Bricks?" Gill was rubbing his eyes.
"You've met him." Vincent argued. "I bought him lunch a few weeks ago."
"Oh lord, that guy?" Gill groaned. "Why the hell do you keep... Vincent, it's great that you care so much about the homeless, but you keep going out of your way to look after every stray cat, you're going to get clawed sooner or later."
Vincent grit his teeth. "It's not like I can pick and choose which people to help..."
"I know that, but... Look, somebody asks for change, you give him some; he sees your wallet and decides he doesn't need to rely on charity and you get stabbed. Vincent, you hear about it happening all the time."
Vincent didn't have an answer to that. He knew it was true; he'd read the news stories himself. "Gill, it's illegal to loiter around parks banks, supermarkets, businesses, hotels... anywhere with people who might be concerned about seeing things they don't like to think about. You can be arrested for sleeping on the streets because you have nowhere else to go. This is the richest city in the richest country in the world, and it's illegal to be living on the street?"
"I agree, but you're not going to end poverty in this country. You're not going to end homelessness. In fact, you're not going to put the slightest dent in it. And I am trying very hard to remember when it became your job to try."
Vincent bit his tongue. His experience with the Lostkind had turned him around overnight, and Gill wasn't the first person in his life to comment on it. And he couldn't tell them, obviously.
"Gill, you're right." Vincent said finally. "I'm not going to save them all. In fact, I'm not going to save any of them. It's not like these guys are a few dollars away from becoming regular citizens again. And if they want to spend it on booze instead of food, I don't blame them. But I can't pick and choose which ones I'm going to give a damn about."
Gill
Vincent noticed Gill waving at him from across the park. "My Warden over there says I have to go back to work now." He demurred. "Maybe later?"
"Won't be here later. Park's open. Gets a lot of cold." Checkov said. "Cold wind comes in; wind chill point drops like a rock."
Vincent sobered. "The weather guy said that it's going to be well below freezing later tonight. You got a place to go?"
"Ain't the first cold snap I've lived through." Checkov got up, one hand still in the pocket where he was keeping his winnings. "Be seeing you."
Vincent turned to go with Gill, then stopped and handed Checkov a bit of scrap paper with his address scribbled on it. "Listen, there's an apartment building with a laundry room in the basement. It gets locked at nine, but tonight it'll be left unlocked. I've put a few space heaters down there. If you don't have a place to go tonight..."
Checkov looked floored by the gesture. "Thank you." He took the card carefully. "I promise, I won' tell any'ne."
Vincent made his goodbyes and headed back to the office with Gill.
"What are you doing?" Gill asked him blankly as they walked away.
"What do you mean?"
"You can't give people like that your address."
Vincent sighed. "Gill, it's freezing tonight. I'm not giving them my home address, just the building, and…"
" Them ? Exactly how many hard-luck cases are you pulling off the street tonight?"
"… and the stairwell doors get locked after nine. They want to sleep in the laundry, it's not like they can go anywhere else in the building."
"Better pray you're right, or the neighbors will lynch you."
"Last year the Homeless could sleep on top of the heating vents behind hotels and office buildings to stay warm. But now a lot of the building owners have put up angled covers on the vents so anybody trying to stay warm will slide off. They got nowhere else to-"
"How do you know that ?"
"Dickie Bricks told me."
"Who, or what, in the name of whoever, is Dickie Bricks?" Gill was rubbing his eyes.
"You've met him." Vincent argued. "I bought him lunch a few weeks ago."
"Oh lord, that guy?" Gill groaned. "Why the hell do you keep... Vincent, it's great that you care so much about the homeless, but you keep going out of your way to look after every stray cat, you're going to get clawed sooner or later."
Vincent grit his teeth. "It's not like I can pick and choose which people to help..."
"I know that, but... Look, somebody asks for change, you give him some; he sees your wallet and decides he doesn't need to rely on charity and you get stabbed. Vincent, you hear about it happening all the time."
Vincent didn't have an answer to that. He knew it was true; he'd read the news stories himself. "Gill, it's illegal to loiter around parks banks, supermarkets, businesses, hotels... anywhere with people who might be concerned about seeing things they don't like to think about. You can be arrested for sleeping on the streets because you have nowhere else to go. This is the richest city in the richest country in the world, and it's illegal to be living on the street?"
"I agree, but you're not going to end poverty in this country. You're not going to end homelessness. In fact, you're not going to put the slightest dent in it. And I am trying very hard to remember when it became your job to try."
Vincent bit his tongue. His experience with the Lostkind had turned him around overnight, and Gill wasn't the first person in his life to comment on it. And he couldn't tell them, obviously.
"Gill, you're right." Vincent said finally. "I'm not going to save them all. In fact, I'm not going to save any of them. It's not like these guys are a few dollars away from becoming regular citizens again. And if they want to spend it on booze instead of food, I don't blame them. But I can't pick and choose which ones I'm going to give a damn about."
Gill
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