The Layover

Olive saw the stocky young teenager just before he ran into her, bumping her shoulder and knocking her handbag to the ground. He slowed to look behind him, but he did not apologize or even look at her. Instead, he looked past her and he laughed at something behind her, a laugh that filled Olive with a sudden urge to knock him to the ground like he did her handbag. But he was running again, up the stairs of a waiting city bus.

“Give it back!” she heard from the direction the boy had come from. Olive turned to see a thin boy of about nine or ten running toward the bus. “give it back!”

The bus had shut its doors and was pulling into the street and all the smaller boy could do was to watch the mocking grin of the boy on the bus and whatever it was that boy had taken from him as the bus pulled away.

Olive watched as the boy turned back toward the park, tears of fury filling his eyes. He rushed past Olive, unaware of her presence. He ran through the trees and disappeared from her view.

Olive found the boy again as she walked through the park, sitting at the base of one of the trees, his knees drawn up to his chin and his face buried in his arms.

Gingerly she approached him. There was something so pitiful about him. She sat down beside him. He started and glanced up briefly, then returned his head to the fold of his arm.

“I’m sorry for whatever it was he took from you.” Olive said. The boy shrugged.

“Look, I’m just a stranger who is only in this city on a layover. In a few hours I am going to be on a flight halfway across the continent. Maybe it would help just to talk to someone you’ll likely never see again. I'm a good listener."

He looked up at her and held her gaze with searching green eyes that held more pain, old as well as new, than a boy his age should ever know. He was analyzing her on a core level with those eyes and it was slightly unsettling. She felt, though, that if she turned away too soon, she would fail his test of trust. Finally, he looked away.

“Where were you flying?” he asked.

“Home. From my great uncle’s funeral.”

The boy nodded. He was silent for a moment and then said, “That kid took my money.”

“How much did he take?”

“Maybe $20, Everything I made today.”

“Doing what? You’re a little young to have a job.”

“Old man Cooper plays his keyboard on the other end of the park. Sometimes he lets me sing and he shares his profits with me. I used to be a choir boy before.”

“Before?”

“Before my dad left and we had to…to move.”

The boy lowered his head. “And I skipped school to come here. I thought Mom wouldn’t be so mad if I brought home some money but now, I’ve got nothing. She’s been trying to earn up for so long so we can move into the apartments at Carriage Cove. Mr. Jones, He’s the manager there says we can move in once we have the money.”

Olive wondered what was so special about those apartments.

“Don’t you like where you live now?

He gave her a wary look and mumbled, “not really.” And then as though to end the subject, “I’d better be getting back.”

“Well, it was nice to visit with you for a bit.”

“You too. I hope your plane…doesn’t crash.”

Olive smiled.

“Hey, let me replace the $20 that jerk stole from you.”

“No, thank you. Then it’s money I didn’t work for.“

She watched as he left the park. Just as he reached the street, Olive saw something fall from his jacket pocket and land in the gutter. She hurried over to see what it might be and saw that it was one of his gloves. The days were getting cold. He would be needing that glove. She picked up the glove and rushed to catch up to him. He had just gotten across the street. She mustn’t lose him. Down the next block a way, she tried to call out his name and realized she had no idea what it was. Twice in the next three blocks she called out hey hoping she could catch his attention, but there were just too many people and too much noise. Finally the boy turned down an alley. As she entered after him her heart started to beat a little faster. This didn’t feel safe. She passed a man with dreads and a straggly beard whose eyes followed her like they were glued to her, then a woman who was digging in a broken down shopping cart. Olive was so involved looking at the scene around her that she lost track of the boy for a bit. The alley seemed to go on forever. Then she saw him emerge from the shadows and climb onto a large crate just before the end of the alley where a chain link gate spanned its width. He was turned somewhat away from her. She could see that he was digging in a small box. He was within earshot now but she stopped, unsure of whether to proceed. It was pretty obvious from the bed rolls and belongings around him that this was where this boy and his mother stayed. He pulled out what appeared to be a bandage and began rolling up his pant leg. Then he turned somewhat to prop his foot up on another crate and as he did so caught sight of Olive. His eyes grew wide. She smiled at him.

“Hey, sorry to have followed you but you dropped this glove as you left the park. I never got your name. “ The boy looked down unwilling to meet her eyes and was silent.

“I’m Olive by the way.”

“I’m Joey,” he muttered almost inaudibly.

She felt a little sick seeing him here like this but she felt a great desire to reassure him, to ease his apprehension, so she kept it off her face. She nodded to the scrape on his knee that had just been revealed and the bandage he held. “That’s some scrape you’ve got there. Let me help. Was this what you got in exchange for the $20 that bully took from you?” He nodded. He was still looking at her with apprehension. She reached into her bag and retrieved an unopened water bottle and a tissue. “Let’s get this washed up.”

“So, this is where you and your Mom hang out, huh? How long have you been staying here?” She took the bandage and placed it on the cleaned scrape.

“Since spring. But it’s not like it was before. Mom is working now and can buy us food. And the can has so much money in it, it can hardly fit and pretty soon we’ll move into the apartment.”

“The can?” Olive asked without thinking, wondering about the risk that trying to collect money must be in a place like this.

“Yes,” And she saw a quick nod and a turn of his eyes that betrayed the exact spot near their bedrolls where there were bricks not mortared quite like the others. This was followed by a slight rustling on the other side of the gate and Olive felt the unmistakable impression that they were being watched. A chill ran up her spine. Someone else now knew that there was money there and it was all her fault. Joey and his mother were no longer safe here. Joey must have seen her start at the realization because she saw his eyes widen and the blood drain from his face. Olive slowly picked up the crate she was sitting on and moved it over in front of where she knew the money was while attempting to continue talking casually with Joey.

“When you move will you still be able to get to your school ok?”

As she spoke, Olive felt for the loose brick behind her and attempted to pull it out as quietly as she could hoping her words would cover the sound. But the brick she held dislodged a couple of others and they crashed noisily to the ground. So much for stealth! Olive turned to the hole. Inside was an aluminum can with a small black notebook curled around it. She reached in and grabbed them both and tucked them into her handbag. Then she grabbed Joey’s hand and said, “Let’s go!”

Together they walked quickly down the alley but when they heard rattling from the gate behind them, they began to run. The rattling stopped as someone dropped to the ground and began pursuing them. Olive didn’t even turn to look. She just ran, clutching Joey’s hand. She heard the steps closing the distance between them. This guy was fast! Suddenly just at the end of the alley, a skinny unkempt man passed and then jumped in front of them. There was a wild look in his eye that filled Olive with terror. She drew Joey behind her.

“Just give me the money and nobody will get hurt.”

Olive slowly reached into her handbag. Her hand closed around the top of the can. The man took a step forward and reached for the money. Just then on impulse, Olive slammed the can squarely into the man’s face, knocking him backward. Olive pulled Joey past the man and from the alley where she hailed the first taxi she saw. As they pulled away both she and Joey breathed a sigh of relief. “Where to, Lady?” Came the driver’s voice. “Just drive around the park there until I figure out what to do.”

Olive leaned back in the seat and closed her eyes. What had she been thinking! She should have just handed the guy the money. Two days ago, Olive had learned that she had inherited $20,000 from her grandfather. She could have afforded to replace whatever was in this can easily. But she hadn’t been thinking about how much the money in the can was to her, she had been thinking about how much it was to Joey and his mother. They had to be able to get that apartment. And suddenly Olive knew exactly where to go and what to do. They drove to Carriage Cove apartments where Mr. Jones helped her secure the apartment for Joey and his mother. They even went shopping, got a few pieces of furniture, things for the kitchen, toiletries, and filled the fridge with a week’s worth of groceries. Joey contacted his mom to have her meet him at Carriage Cove after work without going back to the alley first but he would give her no more than that. “because I want it to be a surprise!” he said excitedly. Before she left, Olive wrote a note to Joey’s mother apologizing for inadvertently putting her son in danger and hoping she would accept the securing of the apartment as a peace offering.

Sitting on the plane an hour later, Olive thought about her great uncle and how the inheritance he had just left made her a very rich woman. But she realized that it was not the money she had left over but the money she had just spent that made her feel rich. She thought of how Joey and his mother would have a warm, safe place to sleep from now on and how maybe even now they were exploring their new apartment and would find in a cupboard a can still stuffed with money with a little black notebook wrapped around it and they would feel rich too.