I mean if anybody's still reading?
Let me know what you think?
Chapter Five
Ste didn't know what it was, couldn't pin point a moment in time when he decided: enough is enough. It was probably an accumulation of many things. His own mother stealing and then drinking away the little money Ste had earned to buy himself food. A stepfather that smacked him around for sport, simply for existing. Never being told he was loved, instead being blamed for all of his mother and stepfather's problems, a burden on their lives.
But Ste had made the decision, finally finding the courage after a particularly bad beating from Terry. He was fifteen years old after all, a man, he could look after himself, had been doing so from the age he was able to walk.
He didn't have much, but as his parents lay passed out in their bedroom, in an alcohol fuel coma Ste took his chance, scavenging the small apartment for things he could take with him. Leaving with the only pair of shoes he owned, a size too small with holes in both soles, two of the thick sweaters that Old-Lady-Ethel had knitted for him every Christmas since before he could remember, a blanket, Terry's winter coat - three bread rolls in the pockets, and a dollar eighty-five.
Ste remembered once hearing that it wasn't officially winter in New York until there was snow on the ground. With three inches of crystalline ice water crunching beneath his feet, Ste didn't regret leaving, but it was late January. He just wished he had the foresight to do it during the summer.
The first night he had slept in the doorway of a diner, completely wrapped in the blanket, using one of the jumpers as a pillow. He was awoken, too early – the sun barley up in the sky - by a man who he assumed was the owner of said diner. Ste wasn't entirely sure, he didn't stick around to hear what the man was shouting at him, gathering his belongings he fled. He was afraid that the authorities would be notified and then he'd be returned to his parents.
Ste had eaten half of one of the rolls before falling asleep the night before and the other half sometime around midday, and so as the sun set at the end of his first full day of living as a street kid, Ste was famished.
Hunger was a feeling he was used to, when he was still very young, before Terry, Pauline would disappear for days, locked away in a motel somewhere with a bottle of vodka and a bloke. Forgetting or simply not caring to leave food. By twelve, Ste was at an age where he was expected to feed himself, which wasn't often. Ste knew how to ration his food, but as he hid away in a dark alley on the second night it was hard not to take little nibbles at the bread he had left, taking sips of water from the aluminiumwater can he had found earlier in the day.
At the tender age of eight Terry had put Ste to work, picking-pockets in more affluent areas of the city. Taking what wasn't his filled Ste with shame, even at a young age he new it was wrong, but he was good at it. Hungry and cold Ste couldn't see any other way.
On his second day living on the streets Ste spent hours wondering the streets of New York, looking for anything he could pinch.
If he only stole from stores then it wasn't as bad, store owners were always well off, could afford to lose some of their sock, wouldn't notice if Ste took something small to eat, he reasoned. If he didn't think about it too much, didn't look to deep within himself, it made sense.
By early evening Ste had a loaf of bread tucked into the inside pocket of his jacket, a few apples and oranges he had swiped from outside a green grocer, cans of Campbell's soup and Van Camps Pork and Beans – Terry even had a knife in his coat pocket that Ste could use to pry open the canned goods – and a bag to put it all in.
He was walking around looking for somewhere to sleep – it had to be a different place every night to be safe – in a neighbourhood he knew well enough, but far enough from the flat that he wouldn't encounter anyone that knew him. He finally settled on the backstreet of a row of shops.
It smelt strongly of cake, which Ste soon discovered was coming from a baker's shop. He could see into the kitchen through the open back door, the table was filled with cakes, pies, pastries and all kinds of bread. Ste stood at the entrance, mouth-watering, deciding whether it was worth it to step inside.
He didn't get the chance to decide either way because a woman walked into the kitchen. They both stood staring at each other, both surprised by the other's presence. Ste got his wits about him, turning on his heel and just ran. He was through the alleyway, around the corner and running down the main street within seconds, but she most have anticipated this because the lady from the kitchen was stepping out from the bakery obstructing his path.
"Wait." She tells him, grabbing a hold of his arm so he can't get away again.
"I wasn't going to take anything." Ste defends himself. "I swear."
"Yes, you were." The woman scolds, but there's a playfulness to her voice. "Inside." She instructs, half smiling.
Ste does as he's told, walking into the small bakery shop front waiting uncomfortably to the side as the woman locks the door. She walks behind the counter and back into kitchen, Ste following, eventually. The woman orders Ste to sit on the stool at the bench, putting a plate of chocolate cover pastry in front of him.
"Go ahead." She tells Ste, after the boy stares at the treat not knowing what to do.
Again doing as he's told Ste starts to eat, watching as the woman turns her back and gets to work at the stove. Once she is done she places a cup of cocoa in front of him, sitting and sipping at her own cup. Ste gulps down half the cup in one go, it's hot but not scolding and he hasn't had anything hot in his stomach for days, so it's perfect.
"How old are you?"
"Eighteen."
The woman doesn't say anything, just looks at him.
"Seventeen." Ste says, but it comes out more as a question.
She just smiles shaking here head. "I think by now you would have realised that I can tell when you lie to me." She says, cutting of Ste before he can claim to be sixteen.
"Fifteen." He finally confesses.
"Now we're getting somewhere. And what's your name."
"Ste Hay, Mam."
"We'll be having none of that, Ste. I'm neither the wife of wealthy man nor am I elderly. Antonia will do."
There was something about the Antonia, she had kind warm eyes, a welcoming smile and Ste felt like he could trust her. She asked him questions about how he ended up homeless, because she could tell, and he told her all of it, needing someone to tell his story to. Antonia had pity on her face, sadness behind her eyes but never really reacted, didn't comment when Ste eyes started fill with tears. Ste appreciated that, because it meant he could wipe away the tears and pretend that he was strong.
By the third cup of hot cocoa and a lot of soul baring Ste felt like he had made a friend in Antonia. She seemed to like him too, offering Ste a job at her Italian Bakery and a room in the house she shared with her sister, Dominique. Things where turning around for him.
/
Mr Brady is a busy man, has a full day ahead of him, tells Ste that he looks forward to having him in his team before making his apologies and leaving him "in the capable hands of Joel". What Ste want's to say is: "please don't leave me with this crazy person", instead he thanks the man for the opportunity and lets his hand be shaken.
Joel doesn't talk much to Ste himself but is perfectly pleasant to everybody they encounter throughout the day. Although only a teenager, Joel is treated with respect everywhere they go, which Ste assumes comes from working so closely with Brendan Brady.
Their first stop is to a barbershop, to Brendan's barber. Joel tells the old Jewish man, Judah, to make look Ste 'presentable' whatever that means. The man stares at Ste for a long time, spinning him in his chair to get a look at his face from many different angles. Judah is openly displeased with Ste's current cut, noting that the boy "obviously doesn't take pride in his appearance".
Judah cuts the sides and the back quite short, shorter than Ste has had his hair since being a young child. Not to much length is taken of the top, which in Ste's humble opinion looks peculiar, anything but presentable. He doesn't comment on it, he doesn't want to offend Brendan's kindness or aggravate Joel further.
When Judah is finished he looks satisfied with his work, puts down the shears and takes something called pomade from a shelf, using the product to work the longer hair back into a pompadour. Ste looks at himself in the mirror and is pleased with the refection, doesn't even recognise himself.
Next Joel takes him to a department store, where a very pretty sales assistant in her late twenties flirts with Joel shamelessly. The woman looks down at Ste the entire time, like he is smoothing that has been dragged in from the sewers, just to stink out the store and the expensive clothes. Eventually she separates herself from Joel's side and gets around to picking out a few pieces of clothing for Ste to try on.
The three suits she brings out are all in varying shades of grey, several cotton shits, a knitted cardigan and a pair a leather lace up boots. They have him try it all on, and despite not having any manners, Hannah or whatever her name is good at her job at least, because it all fits. Being tall and slim - gangly Amy would say - Ste normally has the problem of clothing not reaching his writs and ankles.
He dumps the clothes he came in on the spot, but keeps his tweed cap.
/
As Benedict drives Ste out of Manhattan, back into Brooklyn the young man cannot believe the day he has had, isn't convinced that it's all real. As he looks out of the window of the grey Rolls Royce, down at his new clothes and well made leather boots Ste gets a creeping feeling that this is some kind of cruel hoax. Or maybe it is in fact a case of mistaken identity, the Steven Hay that Mr Brady was looking for will one day show up.
/
The family of four live on the top floor of a seven-floor building, in a small one-bedroom apartment. The building is nestled between on old cotton mill and another apartment complex. The front door opens onto the main living area, furnished with second hand, miss-matched pieces.
As he lets himself into their small apartment Ste hangs up his hat and new suit jacket on the coat stand, and then walks down the narrow corridor on the other side of the living room that leads to the shared family bedroom and bathroom. He tucks away his new attire into his previously half empty drawer before checking on the sleeping baby in the crib in the corner, stroking the head of blond hair.
Ste can hear Amy busy at work preparing dinner. The kitchen is separated from the living room by French Doors to give the elusion of two separate rooms.
"And where have you been all day mister?" Amy asks, as Ste walks through into the kitchen area of their home, her back to him as she stirs what smells like a beef stew on the stove.
"Managed to get myself a job, din't I?" He replies.
"You didn't?" Amy asks, abandoning the meal she's cooking and turning to face them.
"I did." Ste assures her, picking up his daughter from her place at the kitchen table and twirling her around the room, eliciting squeals from the toddler.
"Yay daddy." Leah claps her chubby little hands, head tilt back in laughter as she soars through the air.
Amy runs the sort distance, enclosing both Ste and Leah in a hug a tight hug, so full of joy that she is close to tears.
"This is such great news." She whispers, kissing them both.
Ste can tell how relieved Amy is. She would never say it, because she knows how hard it has been for Ste, how he has struggled to find work. Nevertheless, Amy had worried about their future, scared that he would never get a job again.
They had even fought about it the previous night, the stress getting the better of her, Amy had brought up their past and dished out some home truths. Ste isn't completely sure why Amy has stuck around after everything he had put her through, to make things worse he hadn't been able to provide for their family for months. So when she lashed out Ste couldn't blame her, he had all the same thoughts, the same concerns.
At least now, things would turn around for the Hay-Barnes family.
"Amy I think dinners burning." Ste says, inhaling the bitter smell of charring meat.
"Fuck." She curses, scurrying back to the stove.
"This is amazing, I didn't think anyone in the neighbourhood was hiring?"
"It's not in the neighbourhood." He tells her, putting Leah back in her seat at the dinning table.
"Oh, did you go over to the Navy Yard like we were talking about?"
"No, I went last week, remember? The shipyard business is drying up. They've just had to let a most if their guys go."
"Oh, so where is it, this job?"
Having salvaged dinner, Amy turns around give Ste her full attention. For the first time she takes a second to really look him over, taking in Ste's appearance. The professionally cut and style hair, expensive slacks, dress shirt and sweater, and new boots. He even smells differently.
"Ste?" She questions. "What have you done?"
Ste explains that he hasn't done anything. He tells her the story of how a driver had knocked on the door of the apartment asking for him, and the even more unbelievable events that followed.
Ste expects Amy to be overjoyed that he's managed to get what will be a very well paid job. Instead he gets, "You accepted it before talking to me?"
"I thought you'd me happy."
"Hap-? Have you lost your mind? You've accepted a job working for one of the notorious this side of the country, and what I'm supposed to do cartwheels?" Her voiced is raised, and she's sent Leah to play in the bedroom.
"I'm going to be his driver, that's all!"
"That's all? You cannot truly believe a man like that wants nothing from you but chauffer his around New York? I mean why you, what has he specifically sought you out if all he need is a driver."
"I told you, he knew my dad. You know my father worked at The Empire Hotel."
"Yeah, and it got him shot." The both flinch at the bluntness of her words. "Ste I just want you to be safe. We can't lose you."
"Yeah, and them kids can't afford for me not to be working. How long do you think we can survive on your photographer's assistant wage?"
"We'll make do. We always do."
"You an the kids, you deserve better than to just making do."
"Ste I don't feel good about this."
"How about this, I just work for Brady over the summer, and then we'll have enough to get us through the winter. For fire wood and food and a winter coat for Leah. When we have enough money to get us through the winter, to pay rent for those five months, then I'll quite."
"I don't know."
"It will all be fine, you'll see."