Part 6

Brandon "Badger" Mayhew lived in a low income, monthly rented, mobile and vagrant infested second story motel room of a pigeon shit building in an outer, dirty borough of downtown New Mexico. He got his rent from odd jobs, "badgering" friends, strangers, and family for funds (thus his nickname), and most recently, selling blue. His rooms were decorated with stolen movie posters from Star Trek: The Motion Picture, Star Wars II: Attack of the Clones (these were less well guarded than other series' posters), and ripped out magazine ads for Babylon 5. His biggest goal in life was to acquire a blow up doll of princess Leia in her metallic slave bikini. Still, barring that future acquisition, his greatest pride was his Captain Kirk toilet seat that commands, "Beam me up, Scotty!" when you flushed.

Badger's cat hated him. He forgot to feed him and smelled of beer and sharp chemicals. His plastic, action figure toys were always underpaw, and he coughed up more fur balls (or something) than it did. The cat had learned long ago to rush out the door any time it was open. Once outside, it could find many fat, juicy rats, loads of hot dogs and burger bits, and mangy cat tail. This fully equipped tom cat was found as a kitten by Badger when they were both foraging in the garbage bins behind Chick-fil-A. The cat had days of fun even in the mean streets outside, and, despite the hate, it was a meeting of the minds and good lifestyle pairing for the both of them.

Both Badger and the cat were shocked when they found Jesse quietly standing outside the door of the motel room.

"Hey, Jesse man!" Badger exclaimed when he saw him. Even the cat in its rush out the door stopped for a moment to sniff the intriguingly odorous human before getting on with its day. "Dude, it's been forever! You look mondo grungy, have you been having fun?" Badger opened the door further and Jesse walked slowly to the fluorescent flickering, dingy kitchenette. He took a toothpaste stained jar on the counter and drank 5 cups of water, looked down when he finished and did not turn around.

"Jesse, man. Hey." Badger walked a little closer. Though a major slacker and selfish in his addictions, he knew what bad times looked liked from the streets. "Come on, it's me. Talk to me." Jesse still stood quietly with his back to him, arms rigid on sink, eyes down. "Well, how about some munchies?" Badger opened his mini-fridge and looked hopefully inside. He knew nothing was in the block of ice that was his freezer, and below was a remnant of peanut butter in a licked out jar, no jam in the raspberry jar, three empty beer bottles - "I'm growing yeast, man. Microbrewery!" - a few very stale saltines still in its cardboard box sans plastic wrap, and mold. The quiet man wandered over, interested, and looked over Brandon's shoulder. Jesse suddenly reached in and grabbed a can of cat food from a small stack on top of a shelf, popped the top and downed the entire contents with one swallow.

"Hey, no man, I'll find you something better. Sorry for no food around." He looked into Jesse's sad, self-conscious face, which seemed to say he didn't deserve more than pet food. "No, man, Jesse," he tried awkwardly to put his arm over his since high school friend's shoulder. He noticed Pinkman's long lived-in clothes reeked at this distance, but he didn't care. Jesse ducked away from his touch. "It's okay, dude. Mi case, su casa. Look, I'll go out and get some stuff. Use my couch, use anything in here, see if you can find some clothes…" Brandon swiveled his head around the perpetually disarrayed apartment, "… around. The stuff on the floor is pretty bad, don't use that. Anything you particularly want?"

Jesse whispered, surprised at his own voice. He wasn't used to being spoken to lately, not with warmth or concern. "Fresh things, fruit, vegetables, real meat. No burgers, fries, pizza." He was shoved too much half eaten fast food in his pit.

"O-kay… hmmm…" Badger was hard pressed to think of other major food groups. "Chinese?" Jesse looked at him disappointedly. "Ok, ok, I'll go down to the Safeway. I'll get some good stuff, promise." Badger lightly put his arms around his friend's shoulders. "I'll do good by you, Jesse. It's great to just see you." He turned to go and Jesse involuntarily grabbed Brandon's shirt, real fear in Pinkman's eyes. That frightened Badger. "It's alright man. I'll be back real soon, you won't even miss me." He gently pulled Jesse's death grip from his clothes. "You'll be more comfortable here." Badger sauntered to the door. He felt good taking care of something bigger than a cat, and having a useful task, it had been a while. And Jesse was here! It was always fun when he was around. "And no more cat food. Pus'll be angry with you."

…

It was so good taking a shower again. He saw sand and caked on dirt go down Badger's drain and hoped it would not clog. His skin soaked up the moisture, and he felt the desert pit was losing a small grip on its victim. Small, dark scabs momentarily littered the tiles at his feet before continuing their journey away. He wished his dark memories could fall away as easily. Jesse opened his mouth to the man made rain and swallowed, a never-ending thirst.

Drying, refreshed, shaven - and hungry! he hoped Badger would be back soon - he sat on the couch in some borrowed, sniffed at shorts and t-shirt and flicked on the tv.

20 minutes later, Badger returned with a roasted chicken, some frozen corn and peas he could quickly hotplate, fresh carrots and celery, some rolls, a new jar of peanut butter, and to a completely empty apartment.