The Cabbie and the Cop – 12

“Tell me about yourself,” Mr. Harwood said to Vergil, once they’d made inroads in the meal.

“Not much to tell. I lost my job, couldn’t find another, got evicted from my place since I couldn’t pay the rent and ended up living on the streets, same as a lot of other people. The only money I make now is by doing day labor.”

“What about your family? Wouldn’t they help out?”

Vergil shrugged, keeping his eyes lowered. “My folks are dead and my sister has a family of her own in another state. I wouldn’t have felt right asking her for money.”

“Sorry to hear that, young man.” Mr. Harwood went back to eating but kept eyeing Vergil. Finally he said, seemingly out of the blue, “You’re a good looking young man.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Please call me Jasper. It’s much friendlier.”

“But you’re my boss, at least for now.”

Again Mr. Harwood changed the subject. “I’ve been given to understand that some men living on the street… Well they’re not averse to using their bodies to make more money than they could as a day laborer, or begging. Have you found that to be true?”

“Umm…” Vergil frowned, chewing his lip as if considering how to reply. “Some do, yes.”

“But it’s not something you ever thought about.”

Vergil shrugged slightly. “I thought about it. I just… It wasn’t something I felt safe doing.”

Mr. Harwood smiled, looking him over more blatantly now. “I can understand that. You don’t look like you could defend yourself if it came down to it.” Tapping his fingers together, he seemed to be thinking.

As he did, Vergil—playing the nervous card—took a big gulp of his untouched iced tea. He could feel the drug it contained hit his system and knew if he were human, his body would have reacted to it much faster than it was. To keep up the pretense, he covered his mouth to stifle a yawn. “I guess I’m not used to so much food,” he muttered apologetically. “About your question…” He yawned again and this time it was less put on as he was beginning to feel tired and a bit light-headed. He was aware when someone came into the room, heard Mr. Harwood tell the person, “Take him up to the bedroom.” Then he felt himself being lifted from the chair.