The Lost Gate by Orson Scott Card

was no particular reason to lie.
    â€œI tell you, Danny,” said Eric. “This is a hard world and you’re just too damn young to do the road by yourself. You need somebody looking out for you.”
    â€œWhat he means,” said Tony, “is that he’s thought of a use for you.”
    â€œWell duh,” said Eric. “Pitiful kid, and I can say, ‘Got nothing to feed my kid brother, you spare us a couple of bucks, ma’am?’ Bet we do okay with that.”
    â€œNot with his clothes looking all new like that,” said Tony.
    â€œWell, he’s going to have to dirty himself up anyway,” said Eric. “He’s not going to make it far with all his clothes looking new like that.”
    Danny looked down at himself. “They won’t look brand new for very long. And I’m not going to dirty them up. I could have kept the clothes I came here in if I wanted to look dirty.”
    â€œAny chance you can still lay hands on those clothes?” asked Eric. “I mean, not for wearing now or anything, but so you can change into them when you need to beg.”
    â€œAre you kidding? I don’t want to beg.”
    â€œOh, you got a junior executive job in a Fortune 500 company waiting for you in Philadelphia? Atlanta maybe?”
    â€œNo,” said Danny.
    â€œYou don’t look big enough to be worth anything at digging ditches,” said Eric. “You box flyweight? What about tag team wrestling? Or maybe you’re a mechanic for a NASCAR team. Begging’s how you stay alive on the road, Danny. You too good to beg? You better go home to mommy and daddy.”
    â€œI’ve just never done it,” said Danny.
    â€œYou go get those clothes. They far away?”
    â€œBack in the woods.”
    â€œYou go get them,” said Eric. “I’ll be here waiting for you. You can keep all this stuff you stole, that’s good, you must be one hell of a lucky thief to get away with all this on your first try.”
    â€œHow do you know it was my first try?” asked Danny.
    Tony hooted. “The tags? The labels?”
    â€œSo I was lucky,” said Danny. “I’m good at getaways.”
    â€œA useful skill,” said Eric. “But this is my home town. Don’t steal anything more from my home town, get it?”
    â€œGot it,” said Danny.
    â€œI still got a lot of friends here, like Tony. You planning to steal anything from his store?”
    â€œNo,” said Danny.
    â€œGood thing, because then we’d have to beat the crap out of you.”
    â€œIf this is your home town, what do you know about the road?” asked Danny.
    â€œBecause I’ve been on the road since June. Came back for Christmas. Say hi to my mom, tell my dad to eat shit and die.”
    â€œYou already do that?” asked Tony. “Cause I don’t see any bruises.”
    â€œI left him a note,” said Eric. “And besides, he’s not as big as your stepdad. I don’t think he could lay a hand on me now. I’m taller.”
    So neither one of these guys felt safe living with their families. Danny wondered how they’d feel if their family had a Hammernip Hill.
    â€œGo get your clothes,” said Eric. “I’ll wait here, and then we’ll get us a ride up north. No money for begging around here. But in DC now, there’s plenty of people with a few bucks for a guy and his kid brother. You’ll see.”
    â€œWho’s going to give us a ride?”
    â€œSomebody,” said Eric. “You getting those clothes, little brother, or do I kick the crap out of you?”
    â€œThink you can?” asked Danny, getting into the spirit of the game.
    â€œThink I can’t?” said Eric. “Move your butt, little bro. Don’t make me wait any longer than the next cigarette.”
    So Danny jogged and then ran back around behind Wal-Mart, put back on his discarded shirt and pants,