Brick (Double Dippin') by Allison Hobbs

believing that their predicament was the result of laziness or drug use.
    But Anya knew from her own harrowing experience that the loss of shelter could happen to anyone. The homeless couple was pumping gas, trying to earn a few bucks toward their daily survival. She showed them her father’s picture. A bad odor emitted from the pair. It was the smell of gasoline and tuna fish—an odd and unpleasant mixture of scents. Anya had to hold her breath while they scrutinized the photo. The young couple shook their heads. “Never saw him before,” the young man said.
    “There’s an organization that travels around the city offering shelter to people living on the streets. They try to gather names and other information from people that are willing to cooperate,” said the woman.
    “Do you know the name of the organization?” Anya asked.
    “Beats me. Something with the word ‘Homeless’ in the title. I bet you can find them on the Internet. I hear they have a database of information on street people, including photos.”
    Her search had not been an entire waste. Feeling more hopeful than ever, Anya thanked the couple. She wondered why they hadn’t accepted help from the organization. Maybe they didn’t want to disclose their identities. There were a million reasons why some people were without food and shelter.
    She concluded her day’s journey at the public library on the Parkway, where she’d hoped to be able to use one of the computers and find out more about the organization that identified street people.
    Anya left the library in disappointment when she was told that their computers were down.
    Outside the library, she was immediately accosted by sad-faced, gaunt, forgotten people who were begging for loose change. This was the reality of the homeless.
    On second thought, the notion that there was a database of information about street people seemed rather farfetched. Tomorrow, she’d backtrack to some of the places she’d already visited when she’d first arrived in Philly. Places like Needle Park in the Kensington section of the city, where many of the homeless congregated. She was likely to get more information from personally combing the streets than she’d get on the Internet.
    Survival on the mean streets was like living in a jungle. There were an astonishing number of crimes against the homeless. People moved around when areas became too dangerous or when weather conditions destroyed or caused their makeshift shelter to become uninhabitable.
    Anya was afraid that if and when she ever found her father, he’d be crazy as hell; unable to recognize her. It was so scary tothink that her father may have forgotten he’d ever had a daughter. But her worst fear was that she was too late—that her father was dead.
     

    Brick had paid for two days when he checked in. More money down the drain. He shook his head, thinking about all the money he’d been wasting on hotel rooms. And this time, he’d checked in using his real name. Stupid!
    I should’ve used an alias when I checked into that joint. I gotta bounce; it’s too easy for the cops to find me if I stay there. I’ma shoot through the spot real quick; get my shit and tell shawty, deuces. She seems like a nice girl, and I feel bad for having to run out on her. But I ain’t got no choice. It’s time for us to part ways.
    Speeding to the hotel, Brick zoomed through yellow lights, only tapping lightly on the brakes whenever he approached a stop sign.

 
     

CHAPTER 18
     
     
    I can’t keep my mind off the strippers that I wanna get with.
    It’s not the way I planned it. I’m not having a big welcome home party at a strip club with all my homies drinking and getting lap dances.
    Being stuck in this house with Evette is getting on my nerves. Don’t get me wrong; I like that she goes along with all my freakish ideas. She cooks, cleans. I believe she’d even give me a tongue bath, if I let her.
    I shouldn’t complain because I’m treated like a king