Sing for Their Supper - 66

 

"What do you think?" Sam asked the next morning, leaning against the wall of a building, listening to a young man singing while using two tin cans as makeshift drums.

 

"He can't be more than sixteen," Roma said.

 

"So? He can carry a tune. Right?"

 

"Right," Ricky agreed.

 

Jolie nodded. "He looks rough, like he's been out here way too long."

 

"That makes it even more important that we talk to him."

 

"He'll take one look at us and figure we're yanking his chain. We should have worn old clothes," Jolie said.

 

"You three, wait here." Roma took off, not waiting to see if they obeyed. When she got to the boy, she stood for a few minutes, listening and watching. "You're very good," she told him after he finished a song.

 

"Thank you," he replied shyly.

 

She squatted down beside him. "Where did you learn to sing like that?"

 

"Church."

 

"I sort of figured, since two of your songs were gospel. Somewhere here in the city?

 

"No." He frowned. "Why do you care?"

 

"I was in your shoes, once. I spent ten years out here, trying to keep it together."

 

"You're kidding."

 

"Nope. I finally made it off the streets, thanks to a man who had faith in my abilities as a singer and actress. Same as them." She pointed to Sam and the others.

 

"What does that mean?" the kid asked warily.

 

"This man—his name is Tuck Williams—decided to start a theater and use homeless people as his actors. Well, mostly homeless. He brought in two professionals because there weren't enough of us. Now, we're trying to expand the company."

 

"What kind of theater?'

 

Roma laughed. "Not what you're probably thinking. We're legit. Right now we're putting on Oliver!. Have you heard of it?" When he shook his head, she gave him a brief idea of the plot. "It's a musical," she said when she'd finished.

 

"We did one of those at the church. A Christmas thing. I was an angel." He sighed. "That seems like a long time ago."

 

"Before you ran away?" she asked him.

 

"Yeah." His mouth tightened. "Don't ask why."

 

"I won't. Would you like to meet my friends?"

 

"I guess."

 

Roma gestured to them, then asked, "What's your name?"

 

"Umm…Ira."

 

Roma had a feeling that wasn't his real name, but then, Roma wasn't her real name, so who was she to question.

 

"Guys," she said when the others came over, "This is Ira. I was telling him about the theater. Ira, meet Sam, Jolie, and Ricky."

 

"Hi," Ira said shyly.

 

"Hi. You're good," Sam replied. "You should join us."

 

"Did you tell him he'd have a place to stay?" Jolie asked Roma.

 

"Nope. I haven't gotten that far." She returned her attention to Ira. "There are two cabins. One for the guys, one for us females. They have kitchens, and the theater provides the food."

 

"For reals?"

 

"Yep, for reals," Ricky said. "You interested?"

 

"I…think so."

 

"You don't have to make up your mind right now," Roma told him. "We're going to be around all day, looking for other kids. If you stay here, we'll come back. I promise."

 

"No. I'll come with you. I mean, what have I got to lose? Right? This?" Ira waved his hand around, encompassing the grimy wall behind him and the people walking by, not even looking at him. "They don't see me, most of them. Maybe they'll stop for a minute if they like the song. Maybe they'll toss a quarter in my cup, but they don't see me. Not really. So, yeah, I'm coming with you."