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The memory of our first encounter.

I'm begging you to please let me help you. I know the street, Simon. I remember what it's like. I lived it for years. The hardest parts are still to come for you. Please," he begs.

"Not without her."

"WHY?" he yells at me. "What the fuck makes her so fucking special? I can take you around and show you a dozen people that are just as bad off as she is but would like to be helped. That could use someone to help them. I know what you told me but damn it Simon! Your dad wouldn't want you doing this."

I step back and look down at my feet. Then my eyes go to his shoes. Polished shiny black. I can see the world reflected in them. With a smile I see that the guy who shined shoes for a year is still in there some where.

I look up at his face.

"My Dad helped a homeless black man in the days when no white man would sit next to one on the bus."

I see him look down. After a second he gives a nod.

"Remember those times, Roy? What the world did and said about your people? My Dad was a policeman from a family of policemen. We go back four generations. He was the only one to ever get a bad conduct mark in his permanent record."

Roy's mouth grimaces making the graying mustache twitch.

"He slugged a fellow officer when that man made a wise crack about my Mom probably getting her some 'nigger dick'. The Captain tore him a new asshole over you. Said what could Dad expect! Told him that he was a stupid fool for having you in his house. Having a 'colored' man in his house when he was off at work? Might as well hand over his wife to be raped," I swallow to keep from chocking on the bile.

I see the expressions crossing Roy's face. He knows that if I were putting names out there these would be people he probably worked with at the start of his career.

"That would be when your Dad transferred to the Seventh? Wouldn't it?" He asks then.

"Yea. The Captain told him to pack up his badge and walk. Probably because Dad called him a racist son of a bitch," I say.

Roy flinches.

"The drop in pay grade." He says more than asks.

"Yea. He was all but blacklisted for six years after that. He never once complained. He said it was the cost of doing the right thing and that he would pay it triple if he had to."

Roy looks down away from my face as I hear a sniffle from him.

"I think one of the proudest moments in his life was when you made the force." I tell him softly. I reach out to take his shoulder then see how dirty my hand is. I hold my hand just off his shoulder till he looks up. His eyebrow quirks seeing it hovering there. I look at the filth that covers my skin. Then grin at him.

"Can't get the blue's dirty," I say with that silly grin.

Roy's hand catches mine and he pulls me into his chest in as hard a hug as I've ever felt.'

"Help her if you can, Simon." He says fiercely by my ear. "She may not be worth it but you sure as fuck give it your best try."

"She's worth it." I say after a few moments.

Roy turns me lose and looks me in the eyes.

"How can you tell?" he asks softly.

After a moment I give my head a shake.

"I just can," I say.

Roy finds her for me.

** ** ** ** ** ** **

Compared to the alley the new place is a far step down.

The building must have at some point burned down. That hasn't stopped people using it for years. The graffiti is layered upon layer. I see gang signs from people that are a decade gone. Tags from dead people peek out from behind the tags of the soon to be dead.

The sewer smells of the place, the cold wet stench from the river.

I squat down next to the door and offer the guy sitting there a cigarette. His hand shakes as he takes it. I look up at the tan BDU cap with the old Gulf War markings on the side. I steady his hands with mine as he uses my lighter to light the cigarette.

He just looks at me and after a moment smiles.

"Thanks son." He hands me back the lighter then takes a long drag.

"You're welcome and thank you.

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