Shady Bay Read Online Free

more time in the shower than in the bed, trying to burn my body, to toughen it against the cold I knew waited outside the room at check-out. Eleven a.m. came far too quickly. But I set out into the world, praying that someone would take a chance on an out-of-towner with no references, transportation or home address.
    Store after store, restaurant after restaurant on both sides of Ocean Boulevard, on either side of Highway 17 refused my applications. Generic “not hiring now,” dismissals were fired at me from every direction. I’d walked several miles by time darkness had fallen again, and with it came the cold. I was starving. The warm shower and bed last night and pounding of the pavement today didn’t fill my belly. I hadn’t felt full since Booger offered up his plethora of chips, cookies, candy bars , and snack cakes.
    Beyond hunger, my stomach cramped and bile stung the back of my throat. Ahead of me was a small section of houses along either side of the ocean road. Most of the windows were lit from the warm lights within, the fluorescent flashes of color from big-screen televisions flickered in others. I imagined the families sitting down to steaming dinners, discussing homework and busy work days, laughing and loving.
    A set of townhouses sitting right against a large dune, stood dark and cold amongst the warmth. No one seemed to be home. I slipped across one of the driveways and tucked myse lf into one of the small carports on the ground level. The townhouses must have been three stories high, and though they were shrouded in darkness, the white siding seemed to sparkle in the moonlight. They were clean. The people who lived here must have been clean. And I was desperate. Dizziness made my head spin and I braced myself against the pristine siding for a minute to get my bearings again.
    Two garbage cans were neatly pressed against the far wall just inside the carport. One’s lid was bumped up from the bags of trash within. This was rock bottom. I walked gingerly to the cans, lifted the lid and dove in frantically trying to find something to eat.
    A half-eaten banana! Score! I stripped the remainder of the peeling away and shoved the fruit in my mouth, swallowing large un-chewed chunks like my life depended on it. It did, I guess. I was sifting through more trash, papers, empty cans and jars, paper towels, soda cans, when a light illuminated the carport I stood in. I froze with the last banana chunk positioned between my molars. Looking around, I didn’t see anything. No car pulled up. Nothing. Then the door opened two feet to my right and I almost jumped out of my skin.
    An old woman stepped out into the light, her hair in curlers, arms folded across her chest. Her wrinkles were even angry. I’d woken her up. “Oh, I’m so sorry.”
    I started backing away quickly and then felt bad. She was really old. I rushed back to the can and tied the bag I’d been pilfering through and then tried to replace the lid so she wouldn’t have to worry about it. “Sorry.”
    I tried not to look at her, but when I glanced in her direction, I saw that her entire demeanor had changed. Arms were now at her sides, her mouth was hanging open and she didn’t look angry anymore.
    “Stop.” Her voice was raspy, like she’d smoked for most of her long life.
    I didn’t listen. Adrenaline coursed through my veins and I started walking quicker. Big mistake. My body hadn’t recovered enough from the banana to fuel it any further. I collapsed onto the concrete of her driveway, my head bouncing off the ground with a sickening thud. Stars floated in and out of my vision. I’d always thought that was just a thing in cartoons until now.
    I could hear the old woman talking to someone. “Help...girl fell... concussion...hit her head...inside...please.” Sometime after that I could feel my body lifting from the cold concrete and floating in the air. For a minute I thought I’d died, but then I was lowered onto something soft, poufy and