Page 49 of Conan
“I can tell you they’re thankful to not be working dead end jobs or turning tricks on the streets for survival. Destiny has stated that living here is a cushy life compared to what she was doing before answering our call.”
“Good. As long as she keeps thinking of it that way, things won’t get messy,” I state.
“Xavier, it pisses me off, after hearing the girls talk, that the system just throws them away once they hit eighteen or graduate, whichever comes first. They don’t even get enough of a stipend to set them up in a place to live while they look for a job. They have the mentality of its every man for himself. This is what’s wrong with our government, they spend money on stupid shit instead of taking care of their citizens.”
“I agree, Auto. Not every one of them heads off to college or a trade school. I know that there is financial aid out therefor foster kids, but not everyone has the grades to get into a school. Most of their education isn’t up to par for that. Kids of abuse don’t put their grades above survival. It means they drop beneath the scholarship’s acceptance tier.”
Auto mumbles, “It’s a travesty.”
“It is, but there’s nothing we can do about it. All we can do is offer them a chance here where we can watch over the girls and help mold the boys.”
“Yeah. Just yesterday, when I was in town, I was approached by a group of three boys. Dammit, Conan, they looked scraggly and malnourished. Dirty as fuck, I can’t even think of when the last time is that they took a bath. They were definitely street kids. Their clothes were hanging off of them in tatters and they stunk to high heaven.”
“What did they want?” I ask.
“What they all want,” he harrumphs. “To become prospects.”
“Did you take this to Kodiak, Auto?”
“I tried, he wasn’t around. I didn’t want to go to his house and disturb him and you’d already left with Demi to y’all’s apartment by the time I got back.”
“How do we get in touch with them?” I ask. “If they won’t be a good fit for the club, and we don’t bring them with us, maybe we can help them out in other ways.”
“I rented them one of those pay-by-the-week motels on the outskirts of town that has a kitchenette attached, bought them a few groceries, got them a couple of new outfits, and put a little spending cash in their pockets. It wasn’t much, only what the ATM would let me withdraw.”
“You’re a good man, Auto.”
“Do you know my parents tried to become foster parents and were turned down because they didn’t make enough money? They are good people, Xavier. Their hearts are so damn big they would’ve loved those kids as if they were their own. But sonsofbitches like what Demi got stuck with, are approved? Make it make sense.”
“I would if I could, brother. It’s confusing as fuck on who qualifies and who doesn’t. Not everyone has to jump through hoops, while others do. The system is whacked,” I grit out.
“It really the fuck is. Do you want me to take you to meet these boys?” he asks.
“I do, Auto. But first, I want to go and talk to my brother in case he wants to tag along for the ride. I’m not the one with the final say, it has to be agreed to by the both of us.”
“While you talk to him, I’ll give them a ring and make sure they’re there.”
“If they are, tell them not to go out, we’ll be there in the next hour or so,” I suggest.
“Will do,” he announces, plucking his cell out of his pocket and typing out the digits that’ll connect him to the motel.
While he’s doing that, I track down my brother and find him opening his office.
“Marcum, need to have a word,” I say.
“Come on in,” he tells me, turning on the lights as we walk through the door.
“Need you to come with me and Auto somewhere,” I tell him before he has a chance to settle in behind his desk.
“What’s this about?” he probes, shuffling around a few things that are in his inbox file, mostly invoices having to go out with our quarterly post office run or bills needing to be paid. Electricity and water are necessary now that we’re stationary, so when the notices come in, he sticks them there and pays everything on the first of the month.
I share with him what I just learned from Auto, skipping the whole education talk we had, and stick to the boys only. By the time I wrap up what I know, he’s pocketing his keys and grabbing his helmet.
I text Auto to let him know we’re ready to head out and follow Marcum to our bikes. We may be rough and gruff on the outside, but we have bleeding hearts when it comes to kids, especially those who are deemed as throwaways.
This is one of the reasons our society is so damn broken.
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