"Simon been 'round lately?" Amalia Latti asked, brushing a strand of her long, stringy blonde hair out of her face. She grimaced, feeling how grimey &, well, filthy it was. For over a year, the streets of Tulsa had been her home... The many young companions, particularily Simon, what kept her going.
Taking a quick drag from his cigarette, Gil Housenberg shrugged,"Haven't seen much of him this past week... Why? You're not starting to miss the guy, now are ya, Malia?"
"Shut up, would ya?" Amalia retorted, trying to ignore his teasing,"You know I can't stand Simon. I mean he's just so- so..."
"Perfect? Adorable? Sweet?" Tom Dwire suggested in a girly voice, plopping down next to Gil on the edge of the sidewalk.
Amalia grit her teeth,"Give it up. The only reason I hang around him is 'cause he's almost always got a bit to spare."
"Awww, hear that, Tom? She's using him for his weed," Gil said with mock sadness.
Tom shook his head,"Really expected more from you, Amalia."
Amalia, fed up with this conversation going nowhere, stood up. Dusting off her ragged clothes, she headed down a narrow alleyway. Knowing that if she arrived at just the right time, she could get the best of the remnants a nearby cafe disposed in the dumpster.
The thought of eating what was meant to be trash repulsed Amalia even after taking part in the 'ritual' day after day, week after week. But she knew better than to complain, for the orphan's only alternative was being bounced between dysfunctional foster home to dysfunctional foster home...
"Score..." Amalia said quietly, as she saw a bus boy coming through the back exit, dumping a large tray of half-eaten meals into a garbage bin only a few meters away. She quickly crouched low, behind a stack of old boxes, so she wouldn't be seen. Seconds after the boy went back into the cafe, she was scrounging throw the food.
"Care to share?" Gil & Tom said in unison, their faces the picture of innocence, asked coming up behind her.
Amalia scowled,"Yeah, sure. I think I saw some rat droppings near the bottom..."
"Oh how hilarious. It's a wonder you stay here when you could be makin' the big bucks doing stand-up," Tom retorted. The trio sat down, backs leaning against the brick wall of the cafe. Within a few minutes the food Amalia had collected was devoured.
"So seriously, has Simon been around?" Amalia asked,"Straight answer."
Gil shook his head,"Nah, but it's nothing new. They don't call him Abra for nothin'"
Abra was a nickname Simon had picked up in the past few months. He was known to suddenly disappear for a day or two, as if a magician had waved his wand, said the magic word "abracabra" & made Simon vanish. Acquaintences of Simon's knew better than to question his little escapades, knowing they were most likely the result of a sly drug deal.
Simon, though not one to sell often, was quite the drug dealer. His skill, as he had revealed it to Amalia the previous summer, was to give the customer a tiny taste, just to wet their appetite. For the first small purchase, he would charge only a minimal percentage of his original cost. Once that was gone, clients would flock back to Simon, who, feeding on the fact that they were not 'all there' in a logic sense, would up the cost to nearly double what he originally charged. If he was refused the asking price, Simon would simply start to walk away, knowing it wouldn't be long before the customer was running up behind him & pleading for just a bit more.
"Smart," Amalia had commented at the time. And indeed it was. The only problem was that as demand from Simon increased, and word spread to his own suppliers, the costs of his 'materials' increased. Still, Simon always had some cash. Not much, mind you, but enough for a week's meals at a cheap restaurant... and compared to the positions of other 'locals' it was quite a luxury.
Amalia sighed heavily. Though she denied it constantly, she did have feelings for Simon that went beyond friendship or companionship. The problem was they both were practically strangers. Not in a sense of daily life, where they were incredibly close, but rather in sharing secrets of their past. Simon had once mumbled something about his mom skipping out on he & his father, but Amalia was given no more details. And, much to her relief, Amalia was never questioned by Simon.
Simon always amazed Amalia with his idea & thoughts. He had completed only 4th grade in school, but still maintained a high grammar level, though that was not was kept Amalia in awe. It seemed as though he was never at a loss for words, whether Amalia needed some advice, someone to vent to, or even a shoulder to cry on.
Amalia depended on Simon. He was her lifeblooded. The one thing that kept her from completely crumbling. And whenever he was away, even if only for a day, she could feel very being trembling... ready to give way at any moment.
Love was a concept she could barely grasp, merely dreamed about in the past few years, but Amalia knew... had always known... that she loved Simon...
~Chapter 29~
~Chapter 27~
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