Sing for Their Supper – 1

(This first came out in 2016, and reverted back to me when the publisher closed.)

"Back off and leave him alone," Tuck said to the two punks, both of whom were wearing jeans tucked into heavy boots and too-tight T-shirts. 

"You gonna make us?" one of the punks replied. 

"No. But they will." Tuck pointed to the pair police officers who were walking toward them.

The punks took one look and ran. Tuck went over to the kid, who was cowering against the building wall, asking with concern, "Are you okay?"

"I'll live." 

One of the officers asked him the same question and got the same reply. Then he told the kid to get off the streets and find a shelter.

"Yes, sir," the kid said sardonically. "I will, as soon I can find a cab."

Given that it was almost two-thirty in the morning, Tuck knew that he had a point. Busses didn't run at that hour, not in a city of this size. If it were New York or Los Angeles, things would be different. 

"I'll give you a lift," Tuck said.

The kid snorted as he gathered up his backpack and the battered guitar case sitting beside it. "After I suck your dick to pay for the ride?"

The officer started to say something, shook his head instead, then went back to the squad car parked at the edge of the lot behind the building. 

Tuck waited until the police had driven away before saying, "I was serious. I'll give you a lift, no strings attached."

"Why? And who are you, anyway? Some do-gooder outreach guy?" the kid asked, his brown eyes flashing with distrust verging on anger. 

"My name's Tucker Williams. I'm an actor and part owner of the Vale Lake Theater."

The kid's expression lit up momentarily then went back to being wary. "Like in plays and musical theater? Or movies?"

"Real theater," Tuck replied. "Get up on stage and perform."

"Like I do when I'm busking. Performing, I mean." The kid nodded his head.

Tuck smiled. "I knew what you meant. You play that?" He pointed to the guitar case. He already knew the kid played the older guitar it held. He'd seen him around the downtown area several times in the last two weeks.

"Yeah. And sing, too. People sorta like it, I guess."

Tuck nodded. "Do you mind if I ask your name?"

For a moment it seemed as if the kid wasn't going to reply. Then he said, "Sam."

"Nice to meet you, Sam."

Sam ducked his head, muttering, "Thanks for chasing off those punks."

"Actually, it was the cops who chased them away. I just got here first. But you're welcome." Tuck gave it a minute, then said, "I was serious. I'll give you a ride to one of the shelters, if you want."

"Yeah. Sure. Not that they'll have room by now but…" Sam shrugged.

"Just tell me where to go." For a second, a smile flashed across Sam's face. Tuck rolled his eyes. "Not that way."

"I know." Sam followed Tuck around the side of the abandoned building to the street. "I really should just crash here and save you the time."

"Was that what you were going to do, before those guys showed up?"

"Yeah. It's usually safe enough if I'm careful." Sam grimaced. "Tonight, I wasn't."