street life – Spirit of the Wolf

Even though I was staying with Shades, my bag was always with me.

It held everything I owned, and I didn’t feel safe leaving it with him. I just got a feeling that my belongings weren’t safe with him if I wasn’t with them. To a passerby, the bag was full of an odd sort of collection, a hodge podge of things that didn’t seem to connect or have any kind of order.

They were the only things I left home with.

My stepfather had given me fifteen minutes to pack what I wanted to take with me when he kicked me out. I had looked around my room and tried to think of what I would need to make me feel more comfortable in a transitory lifestyle. I had no idea where I would end up, no set notion of where I was going and no idea what I was about to do.

That was okay, though. It was better than living under his roof. I was never really at home beneath it. I had a room, but it was never really mine. It was a waystation of sorts, even I knew it in some rudimentary way. It was a home, but it wasn’t mine, not really.

I had looked around my room and thought logically about what I would need, knowing that everything would have to be small and lightweight. I went around my room, looking at everything I had gathered crow like around me, all my clothes and things: gadgets and wonders, books filled with worlds, CDs filled with anthems, joys and understanding.

I knew that I would need to take very little with me. What did I actually need beyond a shadow of a doubt. I took my time to choose the things I would need no matter where I was. I took my alarm clock so that I could set always get up when I need to and have order in a world that had none. I took three t shirts and three pairs of underwear so that I would always have a spare and a change plus the shirt I wore. I took one hoodie. I had a little bag of toiletries: deodorant, toothbrush, soap. I took Playing Beatie Bow by Ruth Park and Mine for Keeps by Jean Little because they were a comfort, and they were thin and light.

I took what ID of mine that I could find and my tarot cards, the box beginning to fall away. I checked my wallet. I had thirty dollars to my name and little bit of paper that contained things I had written down.

I had collected these things to me, going around the room and gathering to me and finding a place for them in my bag. Every spot was special, and I didn’t want to weigh myself down too much with a lot of stuff. I took one last thing: a silver ring with a wolf etched to it in Haida art. It was my connection and touchstone to spirit.

I kept all of this with me at all times, either on my back or beside me, always in view and I had chosen each piece for myself. There was no panic in any of my choices. I knew that I had to leave room for other items and treasures that I would find along the way. I had to leave room for myself so that I could grow wings.

I knew that every time I took my bag with me that I didn’t trust him. Could I love someone I didn’t trust? I knew the answer and wasn’t sure how long that I could stay with someone who I didn’t trust, who hadn’t so much as kissed me. We’d done other things, but never that. I knew that it was the most intimate that you could be with another person and Shades and I didn’t share that between us. I knew the signs were there and that this was only the fist step along on this new journey.

I had no idea where it would take me, but I knew that I had packed my talismans and brought them with me for some semblance of normalcy. Less a bag of personal items, it was a bag that contained what I thought contained magic. I just wondered where that magic would take me.

I lay there at nighttime, Shades shirtless beside me, listening to his breathing as he slept. His snores sounded like the wind as I looked at the night stars outside the window, the air hot with the heat of summer, a candle we had lit earlier beginning to sputter.

As I fell asleep, I watched the shadows on the walls and wondered what I would become.

There were many people who showed me kindness, fresh as I was to the streets.

None more so than Sunshine. He truly fit the name he had chosen for himself. I remember the first time I saw him. He exuded colour and I watched as he walked and talked to others. Their very faces lit up when he spoke to them, truly a light in their lives. There was a brightness about him that was genuine.

He came up to me right away and hugged me as if he had known me forever. He could feel me tensing up. I wasn’t prepared or used to random acts of kindness like a hug. From what my brother had told me, you had to protect yourself and protect your own. You could make friends, sure, but never let your guard down.

It didn’t feel like Sunshine had any guard up at all. He was just so completely himself that you couldn’t help but love him back. Loving Sunshine was instantaneous, and it felt wonderful in a world that had all of a sudden become very uncertain.

“Honey! Hi!” He hugged me again. “I know who you are of course. I knew your brother. Everyone here does. Who are you staying with? You gotta come with me, I’m going to take you some place nice. It’s wonderful. Have you ever heard of the Youth Service’s Bureau?”

He talked in a constant stream and I had to keep up with him. When I told him that I was staying with Shades, he pulled a face. “That one, I don’t know. I tell you, I’ve seen him around and you gotta be careful with him.” His face darkened as if a shadow had come alive across his skin. “He takes what he wants. Just know that whatever happens, you can come and stay with me, okay?”

He took me to the front doors of the Youth Services Bureau, and it didn’t look like much, just another building. I had no idea what to expect, but when we walked through the doors, the first thing I noticed were the kids like me. They were all milling about and there was food being served. Sunshine took my hand and brought me further into the building, introducing me to everyone there.

“That’s Angel, she’s an amazing artist. You should see her chalk drawings. This is Teddy. He’s trying to figure out who he is like we all are. This is Mike and Tash, they’re dating, and Tash is a photographer. Mike writes slam poetry. Josh and Nicky are like cousins or something, and they’re both singers.”

It seemed that the streets held no end of talent. Looking around the YSB, I could see kids reading while they ate or talking on a nearby telephone. There were other kids painting or drawing. I was drawn to the large bookshelf filled with copies of books that had been loved. “We’re free to take a book if we want one, isn’t that cool? There’s even a place where we can get showers if we need one.”

I followed him out to a small courtyard out back. There were a couple of picnic tables and there were more kids smoking. Sunshine and I joined them and he gave me a cigarette and lit it for me. Taking a puff off his own, he cocked his head at me. “You look like you’re full of questions, honey. So, spill.”

It took me a moment to form what I wanted to ask. There were so many words running around him my mind and I didn’t know where to start. Finally, I spoke the question that came to my lips. I tried to ignore the fear in the back of my head. “Everyone is themselves.” I said. “I don’t know if I will ever be that confident here or that comfortable.”

“Honey, don’t believe a word of it. Angel left home to get away from her parents. Teddy was kicked out when he told his parents that he liked boys. Mike found Tash living on the streets in Montreal and she came home with him here. Josh and Nicky had to go into foster care after their parents left.” He took my free hand in his. “We’re all just making it through the best we can. We all look out for each other, and that includes you.”

We sat on the tables, our eyes closed, and our faces upturned towards the sun.

Tag: street life

Chapter Five – The Hierophant

Chapter Three – The Empress