Date: Sun, 14 Apr 2002 17:28:54 -0400
From: TgrPaw@gmail.com
Subject: Can You Spare a Quarter - 1

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Can You Spare a Quarter?
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Dedicated to "D":

   We didn't meet this way, it probably wouldn't have been anything like
   this if we had met this way, but if we had, I hope it might have been
   something like this.   {{{{ hugs }}}}

Disclaimer:

   Names of people, places, companies, and so forth are completely
   fictional.  While this story draws inspiration from real events which
   involved real people, it is nonetheless a complete work of fiction.

Copyright:

   2002; All rights reserved.

Comments:

   Email can be sent to TgrPaw@gmail.com

   Flames, hate mail, and similar things will be ignored.

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1. Accidental Meeting

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Graham Holt grabbed his briefcase and headed for the elevator.
His Palm-Pilot had beeped and it was time to get going for a meeting
downtown.  He headed out of the office and towards the bank of elevators.

Graham wasn't a big fan of meetings, but ever since he'd taken the new job
with Computer Systems International there had been meeting after meeting.
All part of the price to pay for trying to move up the corporate ladder
he realized, but it didn't mean he had to like it.  He'd only had the job
for about three months, and the interview he did to get it was probably
the greatest acting performance of his life - if only they gave Oscars
for interviews.  He'd never had a management position before, but he
figured if he didn't "act" the part, then he'd never get the chance.
Now here he was and it turned out that managing people wasn't all
that tough after all.  Mostly common sense and of course some original
thinking, but he'd been doing that for years anyway. If only it weren't
for the endless meetings.

The elevator opened at the base of the glass office tower and Graham
spilled out with the rest of the people and headed to the subway station
to take him downtown for his scheduled appointment.  A new deal was
brewing and the boss had asked him to go in place of the regular guy to
handle the details of the negotiations.  It wasn't a big deal, only a
couple of hundred thousand dollars, but he knew that the fact he'd been
asked to go, was an indirect compliment, so he wanted to do a good job.

The walkway from the office tower to the station was crowded as always,
but Graham didn't worry.  Being the perennially organized type he'd left
early so that no matter what, there was little chance of his being late.
Better early than late was his philosophy, if early he could always stroll
about a bit before presenting himself at reception.  Graham didn't like
others being late when they came to meet him, and he always did his best
to give others the same consideration.

He moved along not hurrying, but not moving slowly either, when he
heard a small-sounding rather quiet voice say "Can I have a quarter so
I can get a hamburger to eat?"  Graham sighed inwardly, "Another one"
he thought.  Graham had heard that phrase or its equivalent a thousand
times in the past few weeks - well, a dozen times anyway.  Lately it
seemed practically every corner in town had someone sitting at it with
their hand out.  He was busy and needed to get going, but something
about the voice commanded his attention and his eyes flicked downwards.

He couldn't have been more than twelve, though it was hard to say really.
Crouched down on the cement, he was mostly hidden by a coat that had
clearly seen better days, and the ubiquitous baseball cap that all boys
seemed to own was pulled down over his eyes.  Most people wouldn't have
known exactly what to make of this youngster with his hand held out:
street urchin, pan-handler in training, who knows what, but there was
something about the boy that caught Graham's attention.

Graham didn't advertise that he was gay at the office.  Despite the
improving times, it still wasn't something you wanted others to know if
you wanted to amount to something in the corporate world.  For the most
part Graham was open about his life, but at the office, he avoided all
mention of things that might tip people off.

His eyes quickly took in the young form.  He was young, far too young to
be asking for money for food - that alone was out of place.  There was
of course the dirty face, and the streaks running downwards from the
eyes from dried tears - but what Graham noticed above all else were the
bruise marks on the face.

It was going to make him late for the meeting, he'd have to come up with
something to explain it, but a boy, clearly in distress, and who had
been hurt was something that Graham could not ignore - not walk past
and be able to look himself in the mirror.

He knelt down and the boy recoiled backwards against the cement wall he
was up against.  Graham moved back slightly and said "Hi there, can I
help you?"  The boy repeated his forlorn plea, "I need something to eat,
could you spare a quarter?"

"Has it been a long time since you've had something to eat?" Graham asked.

"I had something on Tuesday," the boy said with a sniffle, and Graham
did the mental calculation.  That was two days ago - and Graham's mind
made a decision.  Was it a wise decision, or the sensible corporate
business man's decision?  Hardly, but it was the only decision that a
man like Graham could make, the only one he could make and still feel
like he was human.

"Come with me and I'll buy you something to eat," he said to the boy.

The boy looked up fully for the first time, and Graham saw immediately
that this was no ordinary boy.  Dark hair with hints of blond, piercing
blue eyes, and well-defined features.  Looking at this boy in front of
him Graham felt his breath leave him momentarily.  Upon seeing the boys
face clearly, it wasn't that he was beautiful, it was more than that,
this boy had something indefinable about him.  Grimy he might have been,
and definitely in need of a good wash, but ordinary he was not.

Then as rapidly as he felt lightheaded, Graham's emotions then turned
to anger, as he took in the full extent of the bruises on the boy's face
and neck.  The boy flinched back as he noticed Graham's face cloud over,
the boy knew that anger had crossed Graham's face, and anger was an
emotion he knew all too well - and knew to fear.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you," Graham said.  "It's just
that I can't bear to see someone hurt, and you've been hurt very badly.
Please come and we'll get you something to eat."

The boy relaxed somewhat but was still very scared and wary, and Graham
knew this.  He helped the boy to his feet and motioned that the boy
should follow along with him.

The subway station that Graham had been headed for, was right next to a
large mall complete with the ever present food courts.  Food courts were
an adventure in gastronomic mediocrity in Graham's opinion.  Nonetheless,
it would be more than adequate for this occasion.  Graham suspected it
had been a while since the boy had had the opportunity to eat properly
or regularly - his face was a bit too thin even for a young boy.

They headed into the mall, and Graham noticed the boy's eyes darting
about as if checking for something.  Suddenly as they went along the
boy huddled into himself, his head turned down into his chest, and it
was clear he was trying very hard to be invisible.  Graham looked about
and spotted the trouble - one of the ever-present mall security types.
No doubt the boy had been rousted by them on more than one occasion.
Graham immediately moved to position himself in between the boy and
potential danger, succeeding in doing so before the boy had been spotted.
"You'll be OK - I'll take care of you," he said to the boy, and the
boy knowing what Graham had just done looked up briefly and gave a very
brief smile.

As smiles went, it wasn't a big one, definitely not the kind that would
ever get into the record books, but it was authentic, and he sensed that
this boy had had little to smile about lately.  Did he mean what he'd
just said to the boy?  "I'll take care of you."  It was only five words,
but at that moment, he knew that he meant it, and meant more seriously
than anything he'd ever said to someone in a long time.

They arrived at the food court, a glaring spectacle of neon, noise, and
overpriced vitamin-deficient food, and Graham said "What would you like?"

"Just a hamburger is OK," the boy replied, and Graham knew that the
boy was worried that he mustn't ask for too much lest Graham walk off
and leave him hungry.  He could sense the dilemma in the boy - ask for
enough to fill himself up, or to ask just for enough that the Graham
wouldn't get mad and leave.

"Sure, we'll get you something" Graham said, trying to sound cheerful, and
when they got to the front of the line, he proceeded to order up a couple
of the large multi-pattied combos that all burger places specialized in
these days.  "Do you want that Biggie sized?" asked the counter clerk,
and uncharacteristically, Graham found himself saying "Yes."

"That'll be $12.67," said the clerk, and Graham counted over the money
and got his change.

He picked up the tray loaded down with food and he and the boy navigated
their way back towards one of the tables, one a bit away from the crowds
of people.  He selected one towards the back so that they could watch
the sea of people and be aware of whomever might be headed their way.

"Help yourself," he said to the boy, who was staring at the collection
of items wrapped up in bright colours with ill-disguised hunger.

The boy hesitated briefly and then not sensing any problems quickly
grabbed one of the hamburgers and had inhaled approximately half of
it in only a few seconds, before politeness caught up with hunger.
"Thank you very much sir," he said in between mouthfuls.

Graham smiled at the boy and nibbled on a french fry or two while he
watched the youngster demolish the hamburger he was eating.  All too
soon it vanished and the boy proceeded to make his box of french fries
evaporate.

"Would you like another?" he asked the boy, and pushed the second burger
towards the boy.

"But that's for you isn't it?" the boy asked.

"No, I've actually had my lunch, I got it all for you," he said.

"Gee thanks a lot," the boy said.  "I was really hungry - I guess you
could tell eh?"

"Well, I guessed you might be," Graham smiled back, and the boy grinned in
between bites.  "Besides," he continued, "I couldn't go on and leave you
sitting there like that.  I could never do a thing like that to a boy."

As soon as he'd said it, he realized he had said too much and the boy
looked at him suddenly and Graham felt the boys eyes drill deep into him.
It was as if he was being X-rayed, and both he and the boy knew it was
occurring.  He knew the boy was suspecting his motives and examining
his soul, but then the boy relaxed and the moment passed.

The boy had had to deal with men before, he knew what they were like -
frequently abusive and always, always, wanting something and offering food
or money to get it, and for a moment he was worried that this sudden gift
from the stranger was just the same old pattern again.  He looked at him
and stared deep into the stranger's eyes, but there was nothing there -
not the barely concealed lust he'd seen many times in the past, nor the
look of contempt/disgust that others tried to hide from him.  All that
he could sense was worry and concern, this wasn't the normal sort of
man he'd had to deal with since he'd been forced out onto the streets.

"I'm sorry but I can't stay long, I have a meeting I have to go to,"
said Graham, and he regretted saying it the moment he did, as the boys
eyes which had brightened somewhat, clouded over again.

"I was on my way there, when I spotted you, and I just couldn't keep
going," he continued.

"That's OK," mumbled the boy, now hurriedly trying to finish up the
remains of the food in front of him.  He knew if he ate fast he might
be able to get it all down and then be OK for another day or two before
he might have to get food ... perhaps another rather less pleasant way.
If only he could eat fast enough.

Graham suddenly realized what was happening and said "No, please don't
rush.  Take your time."  The boy slowed a bit, but did not cease his
rapid swallowing of the french fries.

Graham then took a deep breath, and put into words what had been bubbling
inside him.

"I have to do this for my job or I'll be in some major trouble, but ...
I'll be back in about two hours or so.  If you were where I first saw
you when I get back, maybe we could talk?  And perhaps I might be able
to help you?"

The boy looked up and again his eyes sliced through Graham, but once
again he could sense that there was no hidden agenda behind those eyes.
He didn't believe it totally, but he'd learned to gauge men fairly
quickly, and this stranger wasn't like the others.

"OK, maybe," he mumbled but he didn't look up.

"I really do want to help, but I also have to run.  Can you forgive me
for having to leave?" asked Graham.

"Yes, it's OK," the boy said.

Graham rose up, and he felt like the worst version of pond scum ever
conceived of - how could he leave this boy, obviously in distress,
and needing help.  Yes, he had the meeting he needed to get to - but
what is a job as compared to the life of a boy?  He knew rationally he
had to go, but his emotions tore at him.  He knew he wasn't going to be
able to live with what he was doing, but he also knew he had to.

"Please, be there, when I get back, I'll do whatever it takes to help
you," he said as he headed off.  He knew that he'd never see the boy
again, he knew he'd never be able to forgive himself for leaving - but
he had to.  He hoped the boy would be there, but it was a forlorn hope
as he ran for the subway station.  If he hurried he might only be 5-10
minutes late.

As he ran out of sight, the boy sitting at the table watched him dodge
through people as he headed for the subway station, and the streaks
beneath the boy's eyes grew wet once again.

[to be continued]