Chapter 16

The streets weren’t very nice. Everything smelt terrible, the houses were repetitively run-down and boring, and there were two drunk guys having a fight, shirtless at four in the afternoon. The air was quite thick, with the stench of petrol and urine, and the rain had begun to pour down. But though, their clothes began to become dampened, they’re moods weren’t. They had a hope and excitement to have their embark into a new life, be so close.

They walked, and the rain came down more and more. But they neared their location. The area around them began to have businesses spring up around them, shops, restaurants, and a few churches, adding some history to desolate suburbia. But these places came more common as they moved towards their destination, and they could see the city centre clearly.

The shelter was built in a normal detached house. It was beige and the exterior was that material that looked like concrete but with bits in, with a few bricks scattered on it. The roof tiles were mossy, and stained with lichen, with haphazard, brown, plastic gutters running along the edges. If somebody was driving past, they would have easily mistaken it for a normal house.

But it had a sign above the door that read ‘New-Start Centre for Children.’, letting them know this was the place. They walked in the door, it smelt like an actual house, which was refreshing for the boys, as they took a seat on a chair. It was clearly a converted house, and in the front room, there were a few different sets of children, many eating. An old man hobbled over to them. “Can I help you?” He asked.

“We need some advice on what we should do.” Michael said.

“First get out of your soggy clothes, and then tell me your story.” Replied the man, in a very patient and kind tone. So, the boys went into a small room, and got changed into a set of clothes. They felt old and they both had random dates on them, which were cracked and faded, but it was nice to be wearing fresh clothes for once. Michael saw that James’s ribs were still badly bruised, and he opened his mouth to say something, but then realised there was no point.

They walked back out, and the man invited them to sit and asked for their story. So, they told him every detail, from James starting off with Michael, to their parents shouting at them, to them leaving, and to everything that happened on the trip. All the while the old man sat and listened, occasionally glancing over his shoulder to see if the other children were ok.

“I’ll talk to my wife about this, she’ll know what to do.” The man told them. “She created this charity five years ago. We owned our own company and became very rich, you see. But when we retired, we realised that nobody needs so much money, so we made this charity, better than the money funding the governments parties and fuelling their cocaine addictions is what I say. I’m Josh, my wife’s called Janet.”

“Nice to meet you Josh.” Responded Michael.

Josh got up and exclaimed. “We’ve got some chicken soup cooking; I’ll get you both a bowl. After that, leave your bowls on that rack, and feel free to walk around.” And he bought them both a bowl of hot soup, which warmed their bones, and felt like a proper homely dinner.

They got up and walked around. They had a large kitchen next-door to the main room they were in, where people probably volunteered to work. And the main room went further back, with some rows of tables and chairs, and an old TV, which was playing the news. Upstairs were the beds, probably around thirty or forty individual bunks, most had stuff on them, but a few were empty, surprising when they thought about how many homeless children there must be in the city. But that was probably because only the children who needed it most were offered it.

They were walking back down the stairs when Josh. He invited them into a room on the bottom floor, with a sign saying ‘Office’ hung up on the front. The room was stuffy and crowded with files. The wall had a billboard and three posters on it of Albert Einstein, Marvin Gaye, and Pelé. In the corner was an overflowing filing cabinets, with all the drawers open, and some family photos on the top. There was a large window at the back, who’s shutters were letting the light in with bars. In the middle was an unfittingly clean desk with well arranged pens and a desktop. An old but lively looking woman sat behind it, with a smile on her face.

“Please sit down.” She beckoned. “Sorry about the mess. Been meaning to clean the place up.” They both sat down in plastic chairs opposite her. “I’ve heard your story, and it sounds like you’ve had a rough time, and your case is pretty unique. But luckily you boys are old enough, so that you can be quite self-dependent. I recommend you go to the authorities. And tell them the whole story. They will understand, and probably put you on a list for fostering.” She explained. “They’ll stop considering you two missing. They will have to tell you’re parents by law, but they aren’t allowed to come anywhere near you. Any questions.” The boys shook their heads. “You can stay here for now. We have a few spare beds; Josh will show you to your bunk.”

So, they went upstairs and put their stuff away in their designated shelf. There were 4 bunk beds in the room in total. On one was a brother and a sister, who looked about seven and on the other one there were two sisters who were probably a few years older. They looked hungry and tired even in sleep. James wondered what there stories where, and it deeply saddened him that things like this existed, and he knew weren’t unique.

They were both exhausted and went straight into bed. It was nice to sleep in a proper bed, but James missed seeing Michael’s face as he fell asleep. But he still could still feel Michael’s lips on his from where they had kissed before getting into bed, as he fell into the best sleep he had had in many years.