“A guy was inside at the register, but he was totally absorbed in a magazine. I must have stood there for ten minutes, shivering. Finally, I sneezed, and that snapped him out of it. He saw me, jumped up, and let me in. My lips were blue, and he wrapped me up in a sweater, then sat me beside this little electric heater he had behind the counter. He called the cops as soon as I was settled.”
“So, you took your name from the shop?” Cameron asked.
“Yeah. Didn’t know what else to call myself. Cops tried to get a last name out of me, but I didn’t know it. They sent me to child protective services and tried to find my parents, but nothing came of it. From what I overheard from my case worker, the police thought my parents were probably junkies who got tired of using meth money to feed a child and dropped me off on the highway.” My lips twisted in disgust. “If that’s true, I’ll be happy to show them what I think of them if we ever come face to face.”
“Is that whatyouthink happened?” Cameron asked. “That they just dropped you off like a dog they didn’t want anymore?” The pain in her tone brought back memories of the sadness I’d felt as a child.
“No clue. It’s a good story, but who knows. Maybe that’s what happened, maybe not. Doesn’t really matter now.” I shrugged. “Anyway, after they realized they wouldn’t find my family, I got dumped into the system. And let me tell you, that was hell on earth.”
“That bad?”
“Thatfuckingbad. You know, they make orphanages out to be these awful places in movies and books, but after living through foster care, I’d be happy with a dozen pissed-off nuns. The assholes I was bounced around to were only in it for the checks they got each month. Some homes were worse than others. One reeked of cat piss, and the woman there spent most of the money she got from the state on her twelvefuckingcats. Actually, that one wasn’t so bad. Some of the homes were abusive. Physically, that is. Thankfully, I never had to deal with any sexually abusive foster parents, though I’m sure a bunch of kids aren’t that lucky.”
Cameron stared at me. The sadness I saw in her eyes didn’t anger me the way it usually did when people showed pity or sympathy for me. My own face was a scowling mask, almost like dragging the memories out was physically painful. Her compassion gave me the strength to keep talking.
“Sometimes, though, the other kids were worse than the foster parents. When I was twelve, this one little fucker named Colby Bryant decided to have a go at me. We were living with a couple. The Crows. Well, I was in the backyard mowing the lawn, since that was the chore Mr. Crow had given me. I had to mow the whole three acres every week in the summer. I was dripping with sweat and cursing the push mower when Colby came running up, all excited and shit. He says, ‘Nate, there’s a couple in the house talking to the Crows. They say they’re looking for their boy. They lost him years ago, and they think you might be him.’”
“Well, that got me moving. I busted ass back inside. I damn near had tears of hope in my eyes when I got there.” I gritted my teeth, making the muscles in my jaw bulge. “Cam, do you want to know what I found in the living room?”
“I don’t think I want to know, but sure, let me have it.”
“See, Colby’s chore was washing the cars out front. Mr. Crow collected cars—all of them garbage and not worth a dime, but he had about ten of them. Half were perpetually up on blocks, but he still made Colby wash them all every week when I mowed the lawn. Turns out, that was when he and Mrs. Crow would have a little fun in the living room. With both kids off working, they’d bang their brains out. Colby looked through the window while he took a break and thought it would be fun to get me to walk in on them. When I came running in, that’s what I found. Fat Mr. Crow with evenfatterMrs. Crow bent over the coffee table, humping away.”
“Jesus,” Cameron hissed, burying her face in her hand.
“Yeah. They saw me, freaked out, started yelling at me to get back outside where I belonged. Colby laughed his ass off. That was the last time I let myself believe my parents were ever coming back. I told myself from that day forward that the unconditional love between a parent and child didn’t exist. It was nothing but a myth humans and shifters told each other to feel civilized.”
Cameron chewed at her lip, obviously weighing whether to ask something. After a few seconds, she said, “The scars on your back? Was that from when you were a kid in the system?”
I lifted my hand, letting the firelight reflect off the Celtic ring on my finger. “See this?”
She nodded.
“This was the first thing I ever stole. I was fourteen and getting into lots of trouble. One night, I decided to break into this shitty little pawn shop on the outskirts of town. This silver ring caught my eye, and I stuck it on my finger, then went around grabbing a few other things. I was trying to figure out how to open the register when the cops showed up. Place had a silent alarm, and I was too dumb to realize it. Spent a month in juvie. Got out, and my foster father at the time lost his shit. Hewas a Baptist pastor and thought his foster son getting arrested made him look bad to the congregation. He took his belt off and told me he wasn’t going to let the child spoil for—as he put it—‘sparing the rod.’ He used the side of the belt with the buckle. Tore me up good. It looks worse than it should because I didn’t get any medical treatment. I saidfuck that placeand left that night.”
“You ran away? At fourteen?” Cameron looked horrified. She was probably imagining Gael going out on his own in a few years.
“I did,” I said, pulling the blanket tighter around us.
One of the camp workers walked by with a carton of popcorn in little boxes like you’d see at the circus or zoo and handed us some. We ate in silence for a few minutes before Cameron spoke again.
“Where did you go?”
“It’s funny,” I said. “I always liked the outdoors. Anytime I could watch a survival type of show on TV, it had my full attention. I saw that old movie with Tom Hanks once.Castaway? Everyone was like, ‘Oh, that poor man, all alone on the island,’ but all I could think of was that it looked like paradise to me. No one to fuck with me, no one to treat me like shit, no one to beat me. Just me and nature. It sounded like heaven on earth.
“I spent a few days bouncing around on the streets until I came up with an idea. I went to a local library and stole a book on wilderness survival—edible plants, building shelters, shit like that, you know?” I stroked her arm idly as I continued. “Then I broke into a camping supply store. I stole a tent, a hiking backpack, freeze-dried food, and other essentials like bandages and antiseptic ointment. That time, I made sure to get the fuck out fast. From that day on, I lived like a wandering hermit. I set up camp in abandoned warehouses, parks, woodlands—anywhere that wasn’t already taken by the homeless or animals.”
“Good God, Nate,” Cameron said in a hushed voice, tracing my tattoos. “How long did you live like that? It sounds like hell.”
“It wasn’t a great time. I was basically a child vagrant. I managed to forage for a lot of stuff, but I’d venture into cities and towns every now and then. You’d be shocked by what grocery stores and restaurants throw out. Totally fine food, but it might have some bruises or rotten parts. The things I really had to watch out for were the cops andunsavorymen. You probably can get the picture. Certain types of men see a young boy with no home, no family, living on the streets, and they think it’s easy pickings to satisfy their urges. Never got caught, but there were a few close calls.”
She clamped her hand around my wrist, squeezing tight as I continued.
“During those years, I tried to face my fears…” I paused. It was strange telling this story. I’d never told anyone every detail. Even the few people I considered friends, like Ollie, only knew bits and pieces. With Cameron, though, I wanted to spill my guts, lay everything on the table for the first time in my life. There was a weird catharsis to it, and I didn’t know if I could stop now even if I wanted to.
“Are you okay? You don’t have to keep going,” she said.
“I was just thinking. Anyway, I mentioned I was afraid of dogs after that first night?”
