Alex In the City by BymagaJones 1/?: Alex In the City
Alex In the City by BymagaJones
Characters: Kurt, Puck, Mercedes, various other OC's
Pairings: Eventually light Puck/Kurt
Rating: T, I think, for language
Word Count: 62,000+
Summary: AU starting around the beginning of season 2 - Kurt's father didn't survive his heart attack, causing much upheaval. The story takes place two years later, in New York City. Puck and Mercedes volunteer at a homeless shelter for Thanksgiving and run into an old friend.
Disclaimer: "Glee" would be looking totally different if I owned it - or even had a say in how things were going over there.
Author’s Notes: I started writing this in 2010 and finished it last year.
I'm still sorting out the chapters, but the story is indeed complete, and I'll be posting a chapter a day.
Chapter 1: Alex In the City
Snowfall blanketed New York City, rendering everything - the buildings, the streets, the sidewalks, everything - magical and hushed, as if the entire city had lain down for a quiet, soft nap. Two minutes later, the city awoke, the pristine white snow mangled into dirty slush tossed from speeding cabs onto jaywalking pedestrians, dogs marking their territory before pulling along their owners, whose attentions usually alternated between a conversation on their bluetooth and texting frantically with hands enclosed by fingerless gloves.
Alex exhaled, surprised when he still saw a weak white mist emerge. He’d been standing in Washington Square Park for more than two hours - he’d been there when the snow reminded him of moments in his previous life, and he’d been relieved when he’d been joined by the homeless, the college students, the pedestrians, all of whom put down their marks with their dirty footsteps and snowball fights, and in a few cases, snow angels.
Shifting onto his right foot, he adjusted his hat over his ears, cursing the outbreak of lice that had erupted in the shelter three days ago, forcing him to shave his hair yet again. It had been the third time in four months, and he was sick of always having to wear hats to keep his head warm when his own hair might have been perfectly acceptable.
Besides, a hat was yet another item he had to make sure he kept with him at all times so it didn’t get lifted. He didn’t have extra money to buy another one.
He shifted to his left foot, absently squeezing the army surplus bag he always carried draped over his chest, and finally saw Barney, one of the regular Washington Square Park dealers, stroll into the park. Yet another white boy who imagined himself a brother from the street, Barney sidled to his corner, only his willpower holding up the large, baggy pants he always wore. His big, baggy jacket looked really warm, Alex thought wistfully, shoving his fists deeper into the pockets of the jean jacket he’d thrown over his sweatshirt. Alex knew that the inside left side of Barney’s jacket would be filled with little dime bags of coke, the inside right ready for the steady wads of bills he’d be exchanging for those packets.
Alex was sure Barney had scoped him out before he’d even stepped foot into the park - the guy had been dealing for as long as Alex could remember, longer than any other dealer Alex recognized, so Barney wasn’t stupid enough to get himself caught by the police or shot up by someone wanting his territory. After a few seconds, Alex strolled over to Barney, jerking his head in a nod, careful not to make eye contact.
Barney nodded back. “You finally ready to partake of some of my bounty? It’ll give you something to be thankful for, and you know the first taste is always free.”
Alex shook his head. “Looking for Chase.”
“Haven’t seen him,” Barney said.
Briefly, Alex looked into Barney’s eyes, stared at his face for a moment.
“You think I’m lying?”
Alex shook his head, stepping aside when he saw a teenager hesitantly walk up to them. He turned his back and feigned interest in a couple trying to make a snowman while Barney did his business. He kneaded his bag with his cold fingers, feeling the shivers return, and reminded himself to relax his muscles to help ward off the chill some.
“Alex!” Alex turned around to Barney.
“I haven’t seen Chase in a couple of days, which means he’s due.”
“Yeah,” Alex said, more an exhalation than an actual word. He could sense Barney staring at him and felt the questions that would never be asked, that he would never have answered anyway. “I’ll wait another few minutes.”
“Got nowhere else to be?” Barney laughed.
Alex chuffed out a small laugh. Normally, he would have all the time in the world, but today he actually had plans, things to do before he had to return to the shelter. Today was one of the two days when he actually had a lot to do, and this day was the most special of all, because today, after so long he could barely remember what it was like, he was finally going to have a safe haven.
A movement at the corner of the block caught both his and Barney’s attentions.
“There’s your boy,” Barney said, “and he looks like he needs me more than he needs you.”
Alex didn’t bother to respond as he watched Chase, hatless, his wet blond hair plastered so tightly to his head that he looked almost bald from a distance, jog toward them. Chase’s usual crew, the short goth chick and her boyfriend, the kid with the large glasses, followed him, their black hats tugged low over their ears.
“Hey,” Chase said as he walked up to Barney, so intent on satisfying his habit that he didn’t even notice Alex. “You got what I need?” His voice seemed to shake harder than his body.
“You got what I need?” Barney asked.
They shook hands, exchanging money and merchandise without ever looking each other in the eye, and Chase turned to leave.
“Chase,” Alex said quietly.
Chase turned around and stared at Alex for a few seconds, like he was trying to remember how he knew him.
Alex waited calmly.
“Alex,” Chase finally said.
“So, Momma Cass was wondering if you’d stop by today, come say hello.”
Chase’s attention bounced between Alex’s left and right sides, never actually connecting with Alex’s eyes, but Alex continued to stand motionless, waiting patiently. “Today’s not really a good day.”
“It’s the one day,” Alex reminded him.
Surprise brought Chase’s gaze up to Alex, and Alex could see how the blue eyes, once sparkling and determined, filled with kindness and humor and warmth, now looked watery and bloodshot, a weary acceptance threading through them. “Maybe I’ll try to stop by,” Chase muttered. “Same time?”
Alex nodded. “Same rules apply.”
Chase nodded back. He looked Alex up and down. “You’re looking good.”
Alex shrugged.
A few awkward seconds later, Chase turned to go.
“Wait.” Alex pulled off his hat and shoved it onto Chase’s head.
His lips curling into a smile that never made it to his eyes, Chase looked at Alex’s fuzzy dome. “Lice again?”
“As regular as snowfall,” Alex responded, his smile just as confined.
Chase turned back around and walked away, followed by his two shadows.
“You sure you don’t want a few hours of a pain free existence?” Barney asked. “It’s a hard knock life out there, baby.”
“I’ll pass,” Alex said. For once he had the money, but most of it was rolled and tied around his waist with a long piece of panty hose he’d found in the trash a few months before. He nodded to Barney and walked away, trying to ignore the wind as it skimmed over his scalp.
GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE
When he slept, Puck slept hard. He’d once slept through a night when his sister and mother had run around the house screaming, chasing a bat that had flown down from the attic. Evidently, they had not only run around his room, but Hannah had actually jumped on his bed. So it took something hard-core to rouse him from his slumber, and he was never in a good mood when awakened. Throwing open his door, he screamed, “What the hell, Aretha!”
Mercedes paused, the vacuum still vibrating against the wall to his room. “I told you that this is my major cleaning day in the winter.”
“You’re vacuuming the fucking walls?”
“Spider webs,” she shouted back, returning to her work.
“You’re going to wake the neighbors and get us kicked out of here!”
“It’s eleven o’clock, Puck,” Mercedes said. “Thomas left for home early this morning, and I’ve done all the quiet stuff while you slept. It was time for the walls, and I’m on a schedule. Remember, we’re volunteering at the shelter today.”
“Shit,” Puck muttered, glaring at Mercedes for another second before returning to his room and slamming the door to show his displeasure at the whole damn thing. The band had played a gig the night before, and then he’d hooked up with a girl afterwards, so he hadn’t even gotten home until after six am. He’d forgotten that Mercedes had cornered him when he’d first arrived two months ago and had gotten him to agree to volunteer with her at… he couldn’t remember the particulars. He just knew that it meant he’d be spending an evening feeding a whole bunch of smelly homeless guys.
He flopped back on his bed and looked around his room. He’d really lucked out, his timing unnaturally good. Three months ago, he’d been stuck in Lima, working a dead-beat job, when he’d gotten a call from Tyler, someone he’d met in New York when they’d come up for regionals. They’d jammed together at a club one night, and they’d exchanged numbers. When he called, Tyler had told him that his band needed a new guitarist and backup singer, and he’d wanted Puck to come up and audition. Fortunately, Aretha had managed to nab a partial scholarship to Tisch School of the Arts and had found off campus housing with two upperclass students, so Puck had been able to crash on her sofa. The day after his tryout, Tyler had called him back and offered him the gig. A few days after that, one of Aretha’s roommates’ fathers had had a stroke, and he’d taken a sabbatical from school to go home, leaving an empty room and the need to find a roommate before rent was due the next month. Enter Puck, who felt sorry for the guy’s dad and all, but it totally scored for Puck.
The pounding on his wall stopped, and he heard the vacuum fall silent.
“C’m in,” he shouted to the knock on his door.
Aretha came in and sat down on his bed. “You’re still going with me today, right? You promised.”
Puck wanted to stay home and sleep. The band had no gigs, and he was off his “real” job. He wanted to whine and tell her that he just needed to be alone, but he couldn’t do it. Mercedes had immediately offered her extra room after he’d gotten the gig and needed a place to stay - but her one condition was that he promise to volunteer with her at the shelter. “Why are you - we - doing this again?” He grumbled.
She sighed, one of those put-upon sounds, before saying, “My mother’s best friend from college runs the shelter, and she always needs volunteers, especially today and tomorrow.”
“Do we really have to go two days in a row?”
“Today’s lunch, and tomorrow’s dinner,” she said, standing. “Now go take a shower, because you smell like the inside of a year-old keg.”
Grumbling, Puck took a quick shower, walking back to his room in a small towel. Aretha always complained, but she also always looked. He might not still be a jock, but he still looked good, his guns and abs still takin’ care of business.
He downed three bowls of cereal; he hadn’t eaten dinner the night before and wasn’t figuring he’d have an appetite after feeding a bunch of homeless people. Aretha came out in her fancy coat and matching hat as he was rinsing out his bowl and putting it into the dishwasher. He grabbed his leather coat off the hook on the back of the door and had to deal with Aretha’s look to remind him of her determination to get him into, as she called it, “a real coat designed to keep a person warm”. He really didn’t have a problem wearing another jacket, but he couldn’t afford much, the ones she suggested just looked too metrosexual for his tastes, and his jacket kept him warm enough. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, he figured, digging out his knitted cap from one of the jacket pockets.
During the walk to the subway, Aretha kept up a constant monologue about school. After the first thirty seconds, he tuned her out in favor of some serious people watching. He’d figured out a while ago that he was bisexual; after all, who was he to deny everyone the possibility of having some of him? It definitely made the people watching a lot more interesting, he thought, eyeballing a sister with a long weave as she strutted in front of him, her coat cinched tightly around her waist, emphasizing her nicely rounded curves and bubble butt.
“Puck,” Mercedes chastised, bumping him with her shoulder as they began to walk down the stairs into the subway station. “Can you get your eyes off her butt long enough to listen to me?”
“I wasn’t listening to you before I saw her butt,” Puck corrected her, “but God put a butt like that on this earth to be appreciated. So, you could say that I’m just doing God’s work.” He cocked an eye at her, and she laughed.
So did the woman with the butt as she flipped her hair behind her shoulder and gave him a saucy wink before disappearing into the crowd on the other side of the turnstile.
“I was telling you about Aunt Momma,” Mercedes said, sliding her Metrocard into the machine and walking through the turnstile.
“Seriously? What’s with the name?” Puck copied Mercedes, and they headed toward their train.
Mercedes shrugged. “I’m not sure. I remember asking mom about it once a long time ago, but I can’t remember what she told me.”
“I don’t have to call her that, do I?”
“Mom just calls her Cass, but I think everyone else calls her Momma Cass.”
“So what are we gonna be doing? Just dishing out food?”
“I guess so. I’ve never visited her here.” Mercedes shifted her purse. She’d learned from experience to drape her strap over one shoulder and have her purse hang across her body rather than just off her shoulder. They’d been up in New York for regionals, and before she’d known anything was up, she’d had her purse ripped off her.
Puck and Mike and Sam had tried to run after the guy, but he’d just seemed to disappear. The strange part was that her purse had shown up at her hotel, with everything intact, including her credit cards and cash, by the time they’d returned from their performance. Because of the shift change, the concierge hadn’t been around when it had gotten dropped off, so he couldn’t even describe who had turned it in.
“She always comes to visit us for a day or two in the summer.” Mercedes’ eyes unfocused slightly as she revisited the past. “I remember that she and her three boys lived down the street from us until Marcel - he’s the oldest - ran away. That’s when everything changed. Aunt Momma hired some private investigators who were pretty sure he was here, homeless, so she packed up the kids and moved up here to find him.”
Their train arrived, and Puck followed Mercedes into the car, letting her take the one available seat while he stood above her and held on to the pole on the back of her seat.
Interested despite himself, Puck asked, “So did she ever find him?”
Mercedes shifted so she could look up at him comfortably. “She did. I don’t think he was doing very well, because I remember mom and dad calling her a lot, especially late at night.” She smiled. “But that was a long time ago, and he’s doing really well now. He’s getting a degree in psychology and is looking into social work, I think.”
“Why didn’t they just move back to Lima once they found him - I mean, I know the town sucks, but that’s where her family was, right?”
“I think the whole experience changed them somehow, maybe made them more sensitive to the homeless.” Mercedes nodded over to the corner of the train, where a kid sat, feet on the seat, forehead on his knees, fast asleep. “No one sees them.”
Puck looked around, realizing that no one was even looking in that kid’s direction. He figured he probably wouldn’t have noticed either if Mercedes hadn’t pointed him out. Looking back at the kid, he realized that he couldn’t even be sure if it were a boy or a girl underneath the big hat and large hoodie, the tight jeans and boots.
They didn’t say much for the rest of the ride or the short walk to the homeless shelter.
Master post with chapter breakdown here
Chapter 2: Home Is Where You Hang Your Hat
Characters: Kurt, Puck, Mercedes, various other OC's
Pairings: Eventually light Puck/Kurt
Rating: T, I think, for language
Word Count: 62,000+
Summary: AU starting around the beginning of season 2 - Kurt's father didn't survive his heart attack, causing much upheaval. The story takes place two years later, in New York City. Puck and Mercedes volunteer at a homeless shelter for Thanksgiving and run into an old friend.
Disclaimer: "Glee" would be looking totally different if I owned it - or even had a say in how things were going over there.
Author’s Notes: I started writing this in 2010 and finished it last year.
I'm still sorting out the chapters, but the story is indeed complete, and I'll be posting a chapter a day.
Chapter 1: Alex In the City
Snowfall blanketed New York City, rendering everything - the buildings, the streets, the sidewalks, everything - magical and hushed, as if the entire city had lain down for a quiet, soft nap. Two minutes later, the city awoke, the pristine white snow mangled into dirty slush tossed from speeding cabs onto jaywalking pedestrians, dogs marking their territory before pulling along their owners, whose attentions usually alternated between a conversation on their bluetooth and texting frantically with hands enclosed by fingerless gloves.
Alex exhaled, surprised when he still saw a weak white mist emerge. He’d been standing in Washington Square Park for more than two hours - he’d been there when the snow reminded him of moments in his previous life, and he’d been relieved when he’d been joined by the homeless, the college students, the pedestrians, all of whom put down their marks with their dirty footsteps and snowball fights, and in a few cases, snow angels.
Shifting onto his right foot, he adjusted his hat over his ears, cursing the outbreak of lice that had erupted in the shelter three days ago, forcing him to shave his hair yet again. It had been the third time in four months, and he was sick of always having to wear hats to keep his head warm when his own hair might have been perfectly acceptable.
Besides, a hat was yet another item he had to make sure he kept with him at all times so it didn’t get lifted. He didn’t have extra money to buy another one.
He shifted to his left foot, absently squeezing the army surplus bag he always carried draped over his chest, and finally saw Barney, one of the regular Washington Square Park dealers, stroll into the park. Yet another white boy who imagined himself a brother from the street, Barney sidled to his corner, only his willpower holding up the large, baggy pants he always wore. His big, baggy jacket looked really warm, Alex thought wistfully, shoving his fists deeper into the pockets of the jean jacket he’d thrown over his sweatshirt. Alex knew that the inside left side of Barney’s jacket would be filled with little dime bags of coke, the inside right ready for the steady wads of bills he’d be exchanging for those packets.
Alex was sure Barney had scoped him out before he’d even stepped foot into the park - the guy had been dealing for as long as Alex could remember, longer than any other dealer Alex recognized, so Barney wasn’t stupid enough to get himself caught by the police or shot up by someone wanting his territory. After a few seconds, Alex strolled over to Barney, jerking his head in a nod, careful not to make eye contact.
Barney nodded back. “You finally ready to partake of some of my bounty? It’ll give you something to be thankful for, and you know the first taste is always free.”
Alex shook his head. “Looking for Chase.”
“Haven’t seen him,” Barney said.
Briefly, Alex looked into Barney’s eyes, stared at his face for a moment.
“You think I’m lying?”
Alex shook his head, stepping aside when he saw a teenager hesitantly walk up to them. He turned his back and feigned interest in a couple trying to make a snowman while Barney did his business. He kneaded his bag with his cold fingers, feeling the shivers return, and reminded himself to relax his muscles to help ward off the chill some.
“Alex!” Alex turned around to Barney.
“I haven’t seen Chase in a couple of days, which means he’s due.”
“Yeah,” Alex said, more an exhalation than an actual word. He could sense Barney staring at him and felt the questions that would never be asked, that he would never have answered anyway. “I’ll wait another few minutes.”
“Got nowhere else to be?” Barney laughed.
Alex chuffed out a small laugh. Normally, he would have all the time in the world, but today he actually had plans, things to do before he had to return to the shelter. Today was one of the two days when he actually had a lot to do, and this day was the most special of all, because today, after so long he could barely remember what it was like, he was finally going to have a safe haven.
A movement at the corner of the block caught both his and Barney’s attentions.
“There’s your boy,” Barney said, “and he looks like he needs me more than he needs you.”
Alex didn’t bother to respond as he watched Chase, hatless, his wet blond hair plastered so tightly to his head that he looked almost bald from a distance, jog toward them. Chase’s usual crew, the short goth chick and her boyfriend, the kid with the large glasses, followed him, their black hats tugged low over their ears.
“Hey,” Chase said as he walked up to Barney, so intent on satisfying his habit that he didn’t even notice Alex. “You got what I need?” His voice seemed to shake harder than his body.
“You got what I need?” Barney asked.
They shook hands, exchanging money and merchandise without ever looking each other in the eye, and Chase turned to leave.
“Chase,” Alex said quietly.
Chase turned around and stared at Alex for a few seconds, like he was trying to remember how he knew him.
Alex waited calmly.
“Alex,” Chase finally said.
“So, Momma Cass was wondering if you’d stop by today, come say hello.”
Chase’s attention bounced between Alex’s left and right sides, never actually connecting with Alex’s eyes, but Alex continued to stand motionless, waiting patiently. “Today’s not really a good day.”
“It’s the one day,” Alex reminded him.
Surprise brought Chase’s gaze up to Alex, and Alex could see how the blue eyes, once sparkling and determined, filled with kindness and humor and warmth, now looked watery and bloodshot, a weary acceptance threading through them. “Maybe I’ll try to stop by,” Chase muttered. “Same time?”
Alex nodded. “Same rules apply.”
Chase nodded back. He looked Alex up and down. “You’re looking good.”
Alex shrugged.
A few awkward seconds later, Chase turned to go.
“Wait.” Alex pulled off his hat and shoved it onto Chase’s head.
His lips curling into a smile that never made it to his eyes, Chase looked at Alex’s fuzzy dome. “Lice again?”
“As regular as snowfall,” Alex responded, his smile just as confined.
Chase turned back around and walked away, followed by his two shadows.
“You sure you don’t want a few hours of a pain free existence?” Barney asked. “It’s a hard knock life out there, baby.”
“I’ll pass,” Alex said. For once he had the money, but most of it was rolled and tied around his waist with a long piece of panty hose he’d found in the trash a few months before. He nodded to Barney and walked away, trying to ignore the wind as it skimmed over his scalp.
GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE GLEE
When he slept, Puck slept hard. He’d once slept through a night when his sister and mother had run around the house screaming, chasing a bat that had flown down from the attic. Evidently, they had not only run around his room, but Hannah had actually jumped on his bed. So it took something hard-core to rouse him from his slumber, and he was never in a good mood when awakened. Throwing open his door, he screamed, “What the hell, Aretha!”
Mercedes paused, the vacuum still vibrating against the wall to his room. “I told you that this is my major cleaning day in the winter.”
“You’re vacuuming the fucking walls?”
“Spider webs,” she shouted back, returning to her work.
“You’re going to wake the neighbors and get us kicked out of here!”
“It’s eleven o’clock, Puck,” Mercedes said. “Thomas left for home early this morning, and I’ve done all the quiet stuff while you slept. It was time for the walls, and I’m on a schedule. Remember, we’re volunteering at the shelter today.”
“Shit,” Puck muttered, glaring at Mercedes for another second before returning to his room and slamming the door to show his displeasure at the whole damn thing. The band had played a gig the night before, and then he’d hooked up with a girl afterwards, so he hadn’t even gotten home until after six am. He’d forgotten that Mercedes had cornered him when he’d first arrived two months ago and had gotten him to agree to volunteer with her at… he couldn’t remember the particulars. He just knew that it meant he’d be spending an evening feeding a whole bunch of smelly homeless guys.
He flopped back on his bed and looked around his room. He’d really lucked out, his timing unnaturally good. Three months ago, he’d been stuck in Lima, working a dead-beat job, when he’d gotten a call from Tyler, someone he’d met in New York when they’d come up for regionals. They’d jammed together at a club one night, and they’d exchanged numbers. When he called, Tyler had told him that his band needed a new guitarist and backup singer, and he’d wanted Puck to come up and audition. Fortunately, Aretha had managed to nab a partial scholarship to Tisch School of the Arts and had found off campus housing with two upperclass students, so Puck had been able to crash on her sofa. The day after his tryout, Tyler had called him back and offered him the gig. A few days after that, one of Aretha’s roommates’ fathers had had a stroke, and he’d taken a sabbatical from school to go home, leaving an empty room and the need to find a roommate before rent was due the next month. Enter Puck, who felt sorry for the guy’s dad and all, but it totally scored for Puck.
The pounding on his wall stopped, and he heard the vacuum fall silent.
“C’m in,” he shouted to the knock on his door.
Aretha came in and sat down on his bed. “You’re still going with me today, right? You promised.”
Puck wanted to stay home and sleep. The band had no gigs, and he was off his “real” job. He wanted to whine and tell her that he just needed to be alone, but he couldn’t do it. Mercedes had immediately offered her extra room after he’d gotten the gig and needed a place to stay - but her one condition was that he promise to volunteer with her at the shelter. “Why are you - we - doing this again?” He grumbled.
She sighed, one of those put-upon sounds, before saying, “My mother’s best friend from college runs the shelter, and she always needs volunteers, especially today and tomorrow.”
“Do we really have to go two days in a row?”
“Today’s lunch, and tomorrow’s dinner,” she said, standing. “Now go take a shower, because you smell like the inside of a year-old keg.”
Grumbling, Puck took a quick shower, walking back to his room in a small towel. Aretha always complained, but she also always looked. He might not still be a jock, but he still looked good, his guns and abs still takin’ care of business.
He downed three bowls of cereal; he hadn’t eaten dinner the night before and wasn’t figuring he’d have an appetite after feeding a bunch of homeless people. Aretha came out in her fancy coat and matching hat as he was rinsing out his bowl and putting it into the dishwasher. He grabbed his leather coat off the hook on the back of the door and had to deal with Aretha’s look to remind him of her determination to get him into, as she called it, “a real coat designed to keep a person warm”. He really didn’t have a problem wearing another jacket, but he couldn’t afford much, the ones she suggested just looked too metrosexual for his tastes, and his jacket kept him warm enough. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, he figured, digging out his knitted cap from one of the jacket pockets.
During the walk to the subway, Aretha kept up a constant monologue about school. After the first thirty seconds, he tuned her out in favor of some serious people watching. He’d figured out a while ago that he was bisexual; after all, who was he to deny everyone the possibility of having some of him? It definitely made the people watching a lot more interesting, he thought, eyeballing a sister with a long weave as she strutted in front of him, her coat cinched tightly around her waist, emphasizing her nicely rounded curves and bubble butt.
“Puck,” Mercedes chastised, bumping him with her shoulder as they began to walk down the stairs into the subway station. “Can you get your eyes off her butt long enough to listen to me?”
“I wasn’t listening to you before I saw her butt,” Puck corrected her, “but God put a butt like that on this earth to be appreciated. So, you could say that I’m just doing God’s work.” He cocked an eye at her, and she laughed.
So did the woman with the butt as she flipped her hair behind her shoulder and gave him a saucy wink before disappearing into the crowd on the other side of the turnstile.
“I was telling you about Aunt Momma,” Mercedes said, sliding her Metrocard into the machine and walking through the turnstile.
“Seriously? What’s with the name?” Puck copied Mercedes, and they headed toward their train.
Mercedes shrugged. “I’m not sure. I remember asking mom about it once a long time ago, but I can’t remember what she told me.”
“I don’t have to call her that, do I?”
“Mom just calls her Cass, but I think everyone else calls her Momma Cass.”
“So what are we gonna be doing? Just dishing out food?”
“I guess so. I’ve never visited her here.” Mercedes shifted her purse. She’d learned from experience to drape her strap over one shoulder and have her purse hang across her body rather than just off her shoulder. They’d been up in New York for regionals, and before she’d known anything was up, she’d had her purse ripped off her.
Puck and Mike and Sam had tried to run after the guy, but he’d just seemed to disappear. The strange part was that her purse had shown up at her hotel, with everything intact, including her credit cards and cash, by the time they’d returned from their performance. Because of the shift change, the concierge hadn’t been around when it had gotten dropped off, so he couldn’t even describe who had turned it in.
“She always comes to visit us for a day or two in the summer.” Mercedes’ eyes unfocused slightly as she revisited the past. “I remember that she and her three boys lived down the street from us until Marcel - he’s the oldest - ran away. That’s when everything changed. Aunt Momma hired some private investigators who were pretty sure he was here, homeless, so she packed up the kids and moved up here to find him.”
Their train arrived, and Puck followed Mercedes into the car, letting her take the one available seat while he stood above her and held on to the pole on the back of her seat.
Interested despite himself, Puck asked, “So did she ever find him?”
Mercedes shifted so she could look up at him comfortably. “She did. I don’t think he was doing very well, because I remember mom and dad calling her a lot, especially late at night.” She smiled. “But that was a long time ago, and he’s doing really well now. He’s getting a degree in psychology and is looking into social work, I think.”
“Why didn’t they just move back to Lima once they found him - I mean, I know the town sucks, but that’s where her family was, right?”
“I think the whole experience changed them somehow, maybe made them more sensitive to the homeless.” Mercedes nodded over to the corner of the train, where a kid sat, feet on the seat, forehead on his knees, fast asleep. “No one sees them.”
Puck looked around, realizing that no one was even looking in that kid’s direction. He figured he probably wouldn’t have noticed either if Mercedes hadn’t pointed him out. Looking back at the kid, he realized that he couldn’t even be sure if it were a boy or a girl underneath the big hat and large hoodie, the tight jeans and boots.
They didn’t say much for the rest of the ride or the short walk to the homeless shelter.
Master post with chapter breakdown here
Chapter 2: Home Is Where You Hang Your Hat