SCENE TWO

Lucky Sons of Bitches

The city streets were slowly beginning to populate with cars, trucks and buses. Only a few people were cruising the sidewalks, which proved to be an incredible unbalanced ratio compared to the small crowd of homeless wanderers seated by the curb. Some were women, some men, some sleeping inside boxes while others begged for money and watched by passers pass by. Among this crowd of citizens were officers Hanson and Penhall, who were undercover as part of this abandoned family. They were dressed down, wearing clothing that was ripped, torn, and downright filthy. Even though the morning sun was still as bright as bright could be, it did not provide a well-matched warmth versus the brutal cold of winter.

December had taken its toll on many of the homeless surrounding the officers. Some only had a cough while others had bronchitis or worse. The atmosphere was incredibly contagious with background music featuring sneezing, gagging, coughing and sniffling. The environment was affecting only one of the officers, namely Penhall, who was huddled away from the crowd. He had a look of worry on his face, most likely worried about catching whatever was infecting the systems of his new neighbors. In complete contrast was Hanson, who was snoozing on his back while positioned on the sidewalk.

Looking over to his partner, Penhall frowned, and swiftly shook Hanson's shoulder. Moving slowly, Hanson opened his eyes and looked over at Penhall.

"Did you see something?" asked Hanson in a hushed voice as he sat up.

"No." Penhall replied, his tone louder and less sensitive to the quietness of the morning. "I hope I don't catch something. Last thing I need is to hack up a lung when we're running after some priest with hot feet."

Hanson rubbed his eyes and leaned rearward so his back was resting against the wall. He raised his hand to cover his mouth as a long yawn broke the peace among the curb huggers.

"You won't catch anything if this guy shows up." Hanson mentioned. "If he actually does show up and take people in like we've heard." His voice was louder that time, and with the mention of the priest, a few heads turned. Seeing the sudden interest among the other people, Hanson slid closer to one of them, an elderly man snuggled beneath an aged blanket. "So it's true?"

For a moment the man merely looked over Hanson, scanning the officer from head to toe. Then he briefly glanced at Penhall who watched the two intently. Finally he spoke, but in a very gruff and cracked voice.

"We ain't seen you here before." Said the man, alternating stares to each officer. "You two seem terribly well off to be hangin' 'round us."

"We used to live behind the dumpsters a few streets down." Hanson said, playing the man with a sad expression. "But the cops came in and shooed us away."

"They said we were upsetting the store owners across the street." Penhall chimed in. "That we were scaring away their customers."

The man nodded knowingly and pulled the blanket tighter around his body. He turned away briefly and proceeded to cough once, twice, and then went into a spell of hacking. Penhall made a face at Hanson and shivered while Hanson rolled his eyes. Once this episode was through, the man turned his attention to them once again.

"You awfully young to be on the streets." He continued.

"We lost everything three years ago." Hanson said as he briefly looked back to Penhall. "Now we're out here."

"It's terrible these days how people treat ya." The man said. "You sit on the side of the street with nothin' to eat, no booze to keep you warm, and they just pass ya and go on their way. With their nice haircuts, their expensive clothes and their noses in the air."

"No decency left in this world," humored Hanson.

"You seen that man you was talkin' about? That one preacher fella?" asked the man. "He can be kind but he sure is creepy."

"We haven't seen him, but we've heard about him. Does he come up here a lot?"

"Everyday 'round one o' clock. He'll say hello, bring us a loaf of bread and then he'll take a few of us with him."

"Take a few?" Hanson questioned, a confused expression on his face.

"He usually leaves the old folks out here. He'll take the younger folk. Like you all." The man's face became darker and bitter just then. "You'll be taken today most likely. Ya'll are fit and not as dirty as the rest of us. Lucky sons of bitches."

Hanson stared at Penhall, who only looked on in silence. Shrinking back, he sat beside his partner and watched the by passers pass by.