Marco Domici: Metro stop

"Ain't nobody here to get you, sweetie pie." The guard said, her sing song mocking tone meant to sting. "Here's your junk." A sealed plastic bag landed in front of Ang. "Take it and get to hiking home. If you got one, that is!"

The metal door slammed, but Ang could still here the guard's laughter. It was her third time getting out of juvie dee. At fifteen, Ang was neither the youngest nor the oldest transient there. Still, as she picked up her worthless bag of trinkets, she felt the most alone.

A couple grav cars strolled by the road, passing the metro transit stop fifty meters away. Nothing slowed down enough to even notice Ang. The barbed wire and chain links told people to look away, to keep going. Across the path some farmer's beasts looked at her, snorted, and walked away. It was the next to last stop on the path. For Ang, it didn't even exist.

"Great." Ang mumbled as it slowly started to rain. She stared at the steel door, undecided if going back to food and shelter was better than risking the streets again. Ang pulled herself close. Her old clothes had been too filthy and ragged not to burn. She stood there in a heavy cloth jacket that was too small and a pair of pants that was too big. After several minutes the rain soaked down her hair and through the cloth.

Lacking better options, Ang headed for the metro stop. She'd have to wave the transport off as they'd kept what little money she had stolen. Her prison model shoes lacked stockings and puddle water sloshed into and stayed. Still, she moved to shelter and maybe a chance to think things through.

Ang stopped. She could only see his boots and part of his cuffed pants legs, but she knew. A blue gray cloud forced itself into the rain as he exhaled, and then she saw his hand rest on his knees. Same filterless cigarette, same yucky smell. Same polished boots and crisply creased pants.

Her shoulders slumped. She stopped. Life was officially worse.

"You usually have sense to come out of the rain." The man said. His cigarette hid again, and then another cloud ventured out. He flicked some ash and rested his hands together. "Or did they not let you take showers?"

Ang took a deep breathe and tried the bluster approach. "Yeah, but I need these close to fit better. You know? It's not like I won't have a proper wardrobe this time tomorrow, you know. Some friends of mine are on their way, you know. I'm surprised they aren't here yet." She sat down on the bench, half way between the man and the far wall. "So, what brings you out here?"

The man looked at her and smiled. He was almost twice her age, had seen things most humans fear, and had a chest of decorations to prove it. And the eyes, too. The haunted look of a battered soul who hoped for better.

"Last time we discussed your so called friends they were setting you up for your most recent visit." He jerked a thumb at the facility. "With friends like that, you might want to rethink your relationships." He looked at her, and smiled. "How you doing, hon?"

"Aint' good, sir." Ang collaspsed. "Not good at all." She bump slid towards him and extended a hand.

The man shook his head, but chuckled. "Still bumming, I see." He dug for his pack and tapped one out. Ang took the smoke and he handed his lit one over.

As she used his cigarette to light hers, Ang closed her eyes. "I'm sorry sir." She said quietly and handed him back his smoke. "I really wanted to do better. It's just...well..."

"Life is tough when you're alone, hon." The man drew deeply and sat quietly. "I would say something like 'you are better than that', but really, I don't have to live on the street and steal food to get by. I can't condemn you, hon. But I can hope for you."

"Yes sir." Ang drew and blew. "What about Pat and Liang? They know I'm out?"

The man looked away. "They dissolved the adoption, Ang." He said quietly. "I think it broke his heart, but Pat just couldn't carry on any more. From what I gather, you were a handful at home." He ground the butt under his boot.

Ang drew her knees up and hugged herself. Her eyes rained. "The guard knew, but didn't say anything." She said. "That's what she meant by 'if you have a home'."

"Well, you had a home but seldom stayed there, hon. How do you think your parent's felt?"

"I guess they didn't want to be parents enough." Ang drew and tried to steel herself.

"Tough to do with someone that doesn't want to be daughter enough." He said quietly. He dug out another smoke and Ang handed him hers. After a puff, he handed it back. "You got any big plans for the winter?"

"Freeze my...tail off, probably. Maybe steal a few clothes and get caught so I can pretend to be warm and sheltered until spring. How about you and Theresa? Any kids yet?"

The man winced. "No, not yet. Talked to the doc, things don't look good for the natural bit."

"Well, you know, she is...I mean...I..." There were a lot of things Ang tried to say right then, and failed them all.

He looked at her and smiled. "You're beautiful, hon. And young enough to be my daughter. I...well..."

Ang slid beside him, and his pant legs started wicking out some of the water in her cuffs. "Sorry, sir." As his arm wrapped around her shoulder she snuggled in.

"We talked about you, Ang. But, I'm gone too often and you're too close to Theresa's age. Some folks might think wrong of it. Heck, I'd think wrong of it! Still..." A cloud sailed out. "I have another option, if you want. It won't be easy, but it'll be an option. Maybe better than your last gig." He jerked a thumb at the facility.

"Another foster home?" Ang asked.

"No. Worse." He kissed the top of her head. "A military school. I have some friends there. You're a year late to start but they agreed to look at you, if you're interested."

They sent simultaneous clouds. "I bragged on your SCB scores and your creativity." He chuckled. "I may have neglected to discuss the venues your creativity normally expresses itself, but we'd have to be up front with them before you signed on."

"Are you serious?" She reached into his coat pocket for the pack. "Those places are expensive, and they don't like people like me."

"We'll cover the cost for you, Ang." He pulled her close. "Some of those people are my people, hon. If you stick with me, they'll stick with you. They're good that way."

They waved the metro driver past, signaling that they'd get on when he swung back around. They don't let you smoke on the ride.

"Didn't you just mention how much a pain in the...rear I am?" She puffed. "Besides, they probably won't let me smoke."

"You keep up your grades, I'll deal with the smokes, hon." He kissed the top of her head again and she pulled his arm closer. "I would say this is the best thing for you, but really, it's the only thing I can think of. You work hard and you'll come out with friends. Real friends and a clean slate. I wish I could do more, hon. But this is all I have."

Ang looked up and saw the tear streaks on his face. She gently touched one with her fingertip but he kept looking away. "Aldo, do you love me?"

He closed his eyes and more tears came. His lips sealed tight, but he nodded slightly. Once.

"I'll go, Aldo. I'll do well." She leaned up and brushed her lips against his tears. "For you."