The Billionaire Bum (4 page)

I took the top bunk on the other side of the room. There was a bed separating us, which would hide me well enough but still allow me to watch over him.

Now came the tricky part. If he left to use the bathrooms, he would most likely lose his sleeping space. If he didn’t get in line now, he wouldn’t get a shower. He was observing the line forming at the bathrooms across the way, but he was also watching the other men in our room protect their sleeping spaces. I could tell he was conflicted.

He must have decided that sleep was more important than showering at this point, and I thought he made the right choice. If his luck held, he might be able to get a shower in the morning before heading out. At that point, protecting his sleeping space wouldn’t matter.

A shelter worker was making rounds and Jackson called him over. They had a short conversation and while I couldn’t hear it word for word, I got the basic idea. Jackson had asked him to borrow some money, twenty dollars, I think. The young volunteer had quickly and efficiently turned him down.

Rule number one of volunteering in a shelter: never give money to people who were likely to spend it on drugs and then harass you for more. There was no such thing as

“borrowing” in a place like this.

Jackson lay down on his bunk when the kid walked away. I couldn’t see what he was doing from here, but I thought he was probably rearranging his few possessions. Maybe he did realize the theft potential. I certainly hoped so.

I studied the four other men in the room. The two guys in the middle bunk appeared to be friends, maybe even brothers. One was guarding both beds while the other headed off to the bathrooms. They would likely switch before lights out. I didn’t see them as particularly threatening.

In the bunk below my own was an old-timer. He had to be at least seventy years old and looked more like ninety. Homeless people rarely lived past seventy-five or so. This life was hard on the body. He had already put his back to the wall, closed his eyes, and gone to sleep. I thought a man like that could probably sleep anywhere.

The guy who had taken up residence below Jackson had me worried. He had taken a good long look at Jackson before choosing his bunk. He was fairly young, maybe thirty, and I could smell the booze on him from the other side of the room. His eyes were red and bloodshot, and he had a crooked nose that had probably been broken more than a couple of times. He would need to be watched.

Luckily, I had slept for most of the day, because there was no way I would be able to let my guard down in here. The last of the stragglers were coming in now and nearly every bed was full. The last additions were the type that I had been worried about. The main room was getting rowdy as the first fight of the night broke out. A crazy drunk was screaming obscenities about someone who had supposedly cut in the shower line.

Jackson watched with wide-eyed fascination as the shelter workers made him go back to his cot and settle down. They turned off the water to the showers a few minutes later, much to the disappointment of the men still standing in line, and a few minutes after that, the lights went out.

Let the games begin.

Within an hour the place had quieted down. You could hear some loud snoring coming from various parts of the building. There were no doors on the smaller rooms so the sounds echoed down the hall easily. I hadn’t heard a peep out of Jackson, so he was either asleep or trying to be.

I flipped open my cell phone to check the time. Almost midnight.

At 12:15 another fight broke out in the main room. It was hard to know exactly what had happened, but it was probably a theft gone awry. It usually was. The shelter workers broke it up and threw both parties out into the night.

A little while later, someone started throwing up. God, what an awful noise that was.

And still, not a peep from Jackson. His downstairs neighbor had been quiet too, but I didn’t think I was lucky enough for that to last.

Finally around four o’clock my prediction came true. The guy below Jackson sat up and put his feet very quietly on the floor. I lifted my torso enough so that I could watch, but I didn’t leave my bunk. He stood up and took a peek at Jackson. He must be asleep.

It appeared that Jackson was using his jacket as a pillowcase. I didn’t know how heavy of a sleeper he was, but I thought it was unlikely that the guy could get it off of him without waking him. He’d also been smart enough to sleep with his shoes on. They would be gone by now if he hadn’t. Jackson was sleeping on his stomach, which left his back pockets exposed. I really hoped that he had the sense to move his wallet.

In the next instant I learned two things. One, Jackson was a light sleeper. Two, he was not smart enough to move his wallet. The guy reached for his wallet but woke him in the process.

“Get away from me,” came Jackson’s muffled voice before the guy pulled him off of his bunk and threw him to the floor. He grabbed for Jackson’s jacket and then threw a strong right hook to his jaw.

“Fuck,” Jackson cursed and threw a punch of his own. He connected pretty hard with the guy’s gut.

I was off my bunk in a heartbeat. Jackson getting robbed was one thing. Jackson getting his ass kicked was another.

I pulled the guy off and told them both to break it up. I got in a pretty good shot to the guy’s head while I was at it, which was mildly satisfying. I hadn’t been in a good street fight for a while.

The shelter workers interceded after that and proceeded to throw us all unceremoniously out into the rain. They didn’t care if you fought, just so long as you didn’t do it inside while everyone was sleeping.

Jackson had lost his jacket. The guy was running off down the street with it. I wasn’t sure about his wallet.

I tried to slip off down the alley, but Jackson called to me before I could make my break.

“Hey thanks,” he said, “I’m not sure why you did that, but I appreciate it.” He had a bloody lip, but didn’t look too bad all things considered. He was calmer than I thought he would be. His hands were shaking, but he wasn’t running home.

I nodded my head at him and walked away. I was hoping he wouldn’t follow me, or this whole gig would be up. He didn’t. He turned and walked away. I let him get a few blocks before I doubled back to follow him. I called Sean to let him know that I needed him. I wouldn’t do for Jackson to see me again tonight. We were going to have to change shifts early.

Jackson

My jaw was killing me and my shoulder didn’t feel too great either. I ducked into a 24-hour McDonald’s and managed to get into the men’s room unnoticed. I took a look in the mirror. It wasn’t as bad as it could be. My lip was split and a little swollen, it needed ice, but even without it, I would heal. It really wasn’t even that noticeable. My shoulder was bruised from where I had smacked it on the bed as the guy pulled me down from the top bunk, but it wasn’t swollen, and I could rotate it.

I took a quick inventory. I still had my wallet, thank God, which meant that I had my birth certificate and remaining cash. I had lost my jacket though, which also meant that I had lost my soap, deodorant, and toothbrush. I ran some hot water in the sink and washed my face as best I could without hurting my lip. I was going to need to shave soon. My five o’clock shadow was turning into serious stubble. I could smell myself, too. Lovely.

I needed a better plan. There was no way I could go back to that shelter tonight. I thought there was a chance that it would be dangerous, but now I realized that I stood out like a sore thumb among the homeless. I couldn’t allow myself to be a target like that.

Not for the first time, I wondered who that guy was that had helped me. I was grateful but confused. It was not in his best interest to jump in the middle of my fight, and I was sure that I would have been a lot worse off if he hadn’t. I wished he had stuck around for more than one reason. Having a friend in this world seemed like an invaluable asset. I wasn’t liable to be that lucky twice.

I had actually gotten a fair amount of sleep, and I felt pretty well rested. That was good. I had a feeling that this would be a long day.

Maybe I should just give up on this whole ridiculous charade. I clearly was not cut out for this. I did have a stubborn streak a mile wide though, and part of me would never be content with letting Jason win.

If I was being completely honest with myself, I knew that it ran deeper than the bet. I wanted to prove to myself that my success in life was not just a hand-me-down from my parents.

Yes, I had been born into money, but I had always believed that hard work had been the real key to my blessed life. What if it wasn’t? Could I really make it on my own without the support of my family? Of course, I could. That was stupid. Wasn’t it?

One of the restaurant employees entered the restroom breaking me out of my musing. He shot me a dirty look and then closed himself in one of the stalls. I took that as my cue to leave.

The only other occupants of the restaurant were two dark haired guys, both good sized, who were talking to each other and drinking coffee. They had their backs to me and didn’t even glance my way as I wandered back out into the rain.

It was fucking cold. The rain pulled the heat right out of my skin, and without my jacket, I was going to be miserable until the sun came up. I needed somewhere to stay out of the rain, and I needed a game plan.

I headed back to the subway. It had been okay last night. My pass would be good until Friday, so at least I could stay mobile for a while. I sat in the back of the car again and looked out the window at nothing but miles of concrete tunneling. I was heading back to the area where the social security office was located.

I needed to come up with sixteen dollars to get that card. The kid at the shelter had politely told me to fuck off when I’d asked him to borrow the money. I had known that it would be a long shot. I wouldn’t lend me money either, and I wasn’t going to beg. I had said
borrow
and that was what I meant. He had no way of knowing it, but I would have paid him back.

The only good news was that I knew where to find lunch. I was hungrier than I had ever been in my life.

Daylight was once again beginning to filter into the subway stops so I exited about five blocks up from the social security office. I knew that there was no point to going in until I found a way to make the extra money that I needed, but I didn’t have anywhere else to go.

On average, I made about thirty-five million dollars a year between buying and selling businesses, stocks, and other investments. That meant that I would have an hourly rate of a little less than $17,000 an hour if I worked a normal 40-hour workweek. How was it that I had suddenly become so incapable of earning $16 dollars?

“Damn it, Matt,” a female voice carried down the alley causing me to jerk my head up.

The streets were very quiet this early in the morning, and with the rain, I was pretty much alone on the sidewalk. “I hired you, because I needed someone to show up on time. Don’t bother coming in today, and if you’re late tomorrow you’re fired.” She sounded pissed, but even angry, she had a beautiful voice.

I walked up the alley, in the direction of the voice. I stopped dead in my tracks when I spotted her. She was stunning. Long brown hair, slender build, perfect hips, and she was carrying what looked like a very heavy crate of live crabs. Their claws were taped shut, but one of the crabs had gotten partially free and its pinchers were opening and closing unnervingly close to her delicate fingers. She had a cell phone precariously perched on her shoulder, and she was practically screaming into it.

It took me a minute to understand the whole scene. She was halfway between a cargo van and the backdoor of what appeared to be a restaurant. She must have gone down to the docks to purchase fresh seafood for the restaurant. She was clearly trying to get the ingredients in through the door, and her help had obviously not shown up as she was screaming at him about being fired.

I watched in horror as the half-free crab slid sideways in the crate and pinched the side of her hand. She let out a shriek and dropped the crate. She tried to save it and instead somehow managed to tangle her feet together sending crabs flying as she fell to the ground. I sprinted out of the alley just a moment too late to catch her, but I did manage to keep the crate from falling on top of her.

I set it on the ground a few feet away and turned to help her get up. “Are you okay?” I asked.

Alissa

Oh God, how embarrassing.

My hand was bleeding from a stupid crab, my ass was in a mud puddle, and the hottest man that I had ever seen was asking me if I was okay.

No, I was not okay.

“Uh,” I said stupidly. He was extending his hand to me and it took me a moment just to figure out why.
He’s trying to help your stupid ass up.

“Yeah.” I took a hold of his hand and tried not to behave like a bumbling idiot. He managed to get me on my feet. His hand was freezing, but that was to be expected as he was out in the chilly morning rain with no coat.

“I’m Jackson,” he said, pumping the hand that he was still holding in a very professional handshake.

“Alissa,” I managed. He let go of my hand, and I was suddenly very disappointed with the loss of contact.

Get a hold of yourself!

Right. “Thanks, uh, for helping me up.” I gave him a weak smile. I could feel my cheeks burning with my signature blush. How mortifying.

“No problem.” He gave me a beautiful lopsided grin, and I literally thought that my heart had stopped for a moment. “Let me help you with these, uh, crabs.” Oh God. My crabs!

“Oh, shit,” I said looking at the half-full crate. Several of my crab cake specials were trying to escape down the street. I caught up with them and somehow managed to get them all back in the box without hurting myself.

In accordance with my usual luck, it started to rain harder. We were both going to be drenched. “Um, I really appreciate it, but you don’t have to stand here getting soaked with me,” I said.

Part of me really wished that he’d go away and put an end to my misery, and part of me really hoped that he would throw me down in the street for a little more mud wrestling.