Prologue
Twenty years ago a homeless man by the name of Richard was rummaging through a trash can and was shocked to find something living inside. A turtle was crawling in some green substance that had also been discarded. Richard used some bottled water to clean it up and took it out of the garbage.
"I can't believe someone would be heartless enough to just toss a living creature into the trash."
Richard took the turtle back to the building he was squatting in and then rested. When morning soon arrived, Richard awoke but lay still for a few more minutes. Before he finally remembered about the baby turtle he had rescued the day before.
"How are you this m--. Holy crap!" He exclaimed while turning to greet the formerly diminutive creature.
"This is remarkable, the turtle has practically doubled in size. How is it possible?"
However as quickly as he had asked himself the question he had recalled the green goo he saw the turtle crawling in.
"The substance had to have triggered this, if only I knew what it was. Then I'd-- No. Enough I must stay focused on the present."
Present day
"How did you do today?" Terry asked.
Richard started to answer, but then began coughing violently. Terry rushed over to see if Richard was alright. He was pale and his hands were freezing.
"Are you alright? I knew I should have gone in your place for you-"
"I'm fine it was just a bit nippy out is all. Anyway today I was pretty successful... let me see I got two hundred and twelve dollars and thirty- four cents."
"That should be enough to last us a bit."
"Have you thought about the question I asked last week?"
"There's no need to, all I need to do is get you to realize that you'll probably live another ten, twenty, maybe even twenty-five more years."
"All right, but even if I do live that long you still haven't answered my question." What are you going to do with your life once I die?"
"I'll deal with it when I need to."
"Even if you try to ignore it, it'll still happen. You need to think about your own future, one where you may not be able to rely on me. However I do think that when I'm not here any longer that you should probably leave New York although I have no suggestions about where you should go."
"That's nice, I think I think I'm gonna hit the hay."
"I think I'll go to bed as well. Good night."
That night was probably the coldest night in decades and it was pretty evident seeing them both that night. Both Terry and Richard were shivering furiously, because even with a roaring barrel fire going on through most of the night, their meager blankets could not protect them from the bone chilling cold. The freezing cold of the next morning woke Terry quickly.
"Damn, the fire is out. I'll have to get some things to get a new one going. Wow, Richard's still in his sleeping bag, this harsh cold must make him really tired for him not to be up by now."
Terry put on his hat and pulled it low and his boots and clothes were still on so he just popped his trench coat and walked out into the bitter cold. Terry was surprised to see that there was no snow on the streets, but he was also grateful that the was no snow from yesterday and that it wasn't snowing now. The streets like the sky were bare and traffic was light. He picked up his pace and finally turned into an alley where a familiar dumpster was. He lifted the lid and peered inside hoping to find some useful contents.
"Thank you!"
He cried when he found two stacks of the New York Crier; a fledgling one man "newspaper" full of conspiracy theories, anti big brother articles, and jam packed with internet advertisements. He dug deeper and found a liquor bottle that still had a good amount of booze within.
"Had a good run today. Better hurry back to get the fire going."
A few minutes later Terry was back home and had a strong fire going.
"Better wake up Richard so we can go get some breakfast. Richard, its time to get up so we can buy some food with the money from yesterday."
Terry went over to rouse him physically and opened up the sleeping bag and saw Richard's face.
"His face... its so pale, almost blue."
Terry put his hand to Richard's face and as he had guessed it was devoid of any warmth. Terry unzipped it completely and felt for a pulse, but there wasn't one.
"I should've realized how old and weak he was, I didn't think. Why now?"
Terry remained where he sat dejected and uncertain about what was to come.
Twenty years ago a homeless man by the name of Richard was rummaging through a trash can and was shocked to find something living inside. A turtle was crawling in some green substance that had also been discarded. Richard used some bottled water to clean it up and took it out of the garbage.
"I can't believe someone would be heartless enough to just toss a living creature into the trash."
Richard took the turtle back to the building he was squatting in and then rested. When morning soon arrived, Richard awoke but lay still for a few more minutes. Before he finally remembered about the baby turtle he had rescued the day before.
"How are you this m--. Holy crap!" He exclaimed while turning to greet the formerly diminutive creature.
"This is remarkable, the turtle has practically doubled in size. How is it possible?"
However as quickly as he had asked himself the question he had recalled the green goo he saw the turtle crawling in.
"The substance had to have triggered this, if only I knew what it was. Then I'd-- No. Enough I must stay focused on the present."
Present day
"How did you do today?" Terry asked.
Richard started to answer, but then began coughing violently. Terry rushed over to see if Richard was alright. He was pale and his hands were freezing.
"Are you alright? I knew I should have gone in your place for you-"
"I'm fine it was just a bit nippy out is all. Anyway today I was pretty successful... let me see I got two hundred and twelve dollars and thirty- four cents."
"That should be enough to last us a bit."
"Have you thought about the question I asked last week?"
"There's no need to, all I need to do is get you to realize that you'll probably live another ten, twenty, maybe even twenty-five more years."
"All right, but even if I do live that long you still haven't answered my question." What are you going to do with your life once I die?"
"I'll deal with it when I need to."
"Even if you try to ignore it, it'll still happen. You need to think about your own future, one where you may not be able to rely on me. However I do think that when I'm not here any longer that you should probably leave New York although I have no suggestions about where you should go."
"That's nice, I think I think I'm gonna hit the hay."
"I think I'll go to bed as well. Good night."
That night was probably the coldest night in decades and it was pretty evident seeing them both that night. Both Terry and Richard were shivering furiously, because even with a roaring barrel fire going on through most of the night, their meager blankets could not protect them from the bone chilling cold. The freezing cold of the next morning woke Terry quickly.
"Damn, the fire is out. I'll have to get some things to get a new one going. Wow, Richard's still in his sleeping bag, this harsh cold must make him really tired for him not to be up by now."
Terry put on his hat and pulled it low and his boots and clothes were still on so he just popped his trench coat and walked out into the bitter cold. Terry was surprised to see that there was no snow on the streets, but he was also grateful that the was no snow from yesterday and that it wasn't snowing now. The streets like the sky were bare and traffic was light. He picked up his pace and finally turned into an alley where a familiar dumpster was. He lifted the lid and peered inside hoping to find some useful contents.
"Thank you!"
He cried when he found two stacks of the New York Crier; a fledgling one man "newspaper" full of conspiracy theories, anti big brother articles, and jam packed with internet advertisements. He dug deeper and found a liquor bottle that still had a good amount of booze within.
"Had a good run today. Better hurry back to get the fire going."
A few minutes later Terry was back home and had a strong fire going.
"Better wake up Richard so we can go get some breakfast. Richard, its time to get up so we can buy some food with the money from yesterday."
Terry went over to rouse him physically and opened up the sleeping bag and saw Richard's face.
"His face... its so pale, almost blue."
Terry put his hand to Richard's face and as he had guessed it was devoid of any warmth. Terry unzipped it completely and felt for a pulse, but there wasn't one.
"I should've realized how old and weak he was, I didn't think. Why now?"
Terry remained where he sat dejected and uncertain about what was to come.