Bad to Be Worthy (Bad to Be Good #2) - Andrew Grey Page 0,6
went to the food bank and got stuff. She made dinner.” He held out his hand, and Tucker took it, letting Joshie lead him over to a beat-up picnic table near the larger tent that acted as Joshie’s home.
“You haven’t been eating,” Cheryl Henning, Joshie’s mother, said as she set a plastic plate in front of him as soon as he sat down. It was boxed mac and cheese, but it seemed gourmet to his nearly empty stomach. She set down two more plates along with plastic cups of water and then sat down to eat.
“Thank you. I thought I had some work, but it didn’t pan out.” God, he was reminded of just how close to desperation everyone here was. He’d actually taken a shady job to retrieve something from the beach that could have been drugs or God knows what, and as a result he’d had a run-in with a really shady character. At least he’d gotten away.
“It’s okay. We’re all used to things not working out,” Cheryl said softly and ate what was on her plate. Tucker glanced at Joshie’s plate and hers and was grateful they were willing to share what little they had.
The only light they had to see by came from a streetlight a ways away and a few lanterns hung throughout the camp. They weren’t allowed to build any open fires, so they did what they could to survive.
Tucker waited until they had all finished dinner before handing Joshie some of the shells he had found on the beach.
“These are neat. Thanks, Tucker.” Joshie hurried off to put them wherever he kept his treasures.
“I heard a rumor that the police are going to run us all off,” Cheryl told him quietly. “I think in the morning we should pack up and move someplace else before we get into trouble.” She was already cleaning up her things and placing them in the few plastic tubs that housed their possessions. She had a vehicle, but she rarely used it because gas was too expensive, and Tucker doubted it was even insured. Still, it ran, and maybe they could find another place to camp.
“Okay. I’ll be up with the light and we can get the tents down and leave before anyone makes a fuss.” There were no rules, and everyone came and went, but it was best to just be gone before anyone began asking questions or caused any trouble.
Cheryl and Joshie weren’t his family. Well, they were, of a sort. Tucker had met them about three months ago when the temperatures cooled and he realized he didn’t have a permanent place to live. Tucker had joined one of the camp areas outside Tampa, and he’d had the luck to pitch his little tent next to theirs. Cheryl had shown him the ropes, and Joshie had befriended him. No one in the camp had very much, and they seemed to have less than some of the others. A few times Tucker got day jobs, and he shared his good fortune with them. They did the same with him, but Tucker tried not to burden Cheryl. She had Joshie, and he had to come first.
“I’ll see both of you in the morning,” Tucker said and thanked Cheryl for the meal. Then he said good night to Joshie and went back into his tent, closing the flap for some privacy. Here, in a place like this, privacy was not being seen. It was hard not to be heard, with only canvas walls, and some of the sounds that reached his ears Tucker wished he could unhear and wash out of his memory. What really concerned him was that Joshie could hear those same things—the fights, the name-calling, people coupling in the night. All of it mixed together in a Humanity’s Greatest Hits album.
In preparation for the morning, Tucker packed up the things he wasn’t going to need right away, filling the cooler with his few possessions and putting his extra clothes in an old backpack he had found.
A disturbance from outside the tent—increased activity and a few raised voices—caught his attention, and he stuck his head outside to see a man holding one of the others, ready to punch him. Tucker recognized the man from the restaurant. He must have followed him.
“Where is he? I saw him come into this shithole.” He shook Roger, one of the other guys, and Roger pointed in Tucker’s direction. The guy dropped Roger as though he were nothing and turned toward Tucker.