Chapter 1

It was early May and a typical cold, gray, rainy day in Dallas Texas. You know, the kind of day where you just want to curl up under a thick, warm blanket and not get out of bed. Unfortunately, it was also a work day so staying huddled under my blankets wasn’t an option. So as much as I hated to, I went to work that day.

Work went as well as can be expected (it was work after all!) and eventually it got to be quitting time. So, after a relatively uneventful day, I was headed home for an uneventful evening at home. Or so I thought when I left work.

But on the way home, I stopped by the local supermarket for some things I needed for dinner and for my pantry. As I was leaving the supermarket parking lot, I noticed this homeless person sitting in a sheltered little alcove set into the building to serve as a bus stop.

At first, I drove past as many of us do – we have become so used to the sight of a homeless person, we are almost numb to them. They have become part of the cityscape and sadly, we don’t even see them most of the time. However, as I got closer to the parking lot exit, something about this particular homeless person struck me.

I couldn’t get the sight out of my head and before I knew it, I had turned around to get a second look. As I drove past the alcove again, slower this time, I saw the homeless person had a cardboard sign with “HOMELESS – Please Help!” scrawled in black marker on it. He was sitting there on the concrete sidewalk with his legs crossed “indian style” and his head down with an old knit scarf covering his head, just trying to stay as warm and dry as conditions would allow.

I had often wondered what has to take place in a person’s life to bring them to this state. I suppose it could be any number of things though. It is said that most of us are one paycheck away from poverty and something must have happened to this person to pull the rug out from under them.

As I thought about what this person must have had to endure up to this point, another kind benefactor dropped a few coins into the cup sitting in front of the homeless person. That’s when I got a real shock – the homeless person raised their head to smile and thank the person for their kindness and I got a good look at her. That’s right, the homeless person was a girl! And from the looks of it she wasn’t very old ... I estimated at first glance she was maybe in her early twenties someplace.

That’s when I decided I had to do something to help this young woman out as well. I walked over under the cover of my umbrella to where she was sitting. “If I give you some money, how do I know you won’t spend it on cheap booze or drugs or something?”

“Mister, I haven’t eaten anything more than a candy bar and a bag of old peanuts in three days. I don’t do drugs, and I am too damn hungry to spend good money on cheap booze!” she said. “You have my word, I will use it for food.”

I couldn’t argue with her logic and she seemed sincere. She had the manners and common decency to look me right in the face as she spoke and there was nothing in her face to lead me to believe she wasn’t telling the truth.

Now I’m no softy and I’m not naive, either. I had lived in big cities like Chicago and Philadelphia most of my adult life and I’ve seen beggars before in both. Hell, in some areas of these cities, the streets are practically lined with them. And I had heard just about every sob story and pitiful excuse there was. At thirty-eight years old, I wasn’t blind to the ways of the world or to how conniving and deceptive people could be. I was a skeptic well on his way to being a cynic!

But this young girl had struck a chord with me. Probably because I had a daughter that wasn’t much younger than her and I could see how, as a parent, I would want someone to show her kindness and help her, should she have been in the same situation.

I reached down and pulled the young girl to her feet. “How old are you and how did you get here like this?” I asked waving my hand over her appearance.

“Why do you want to know that? It’s not your concern.”

“Young lady, you are sitting here on the sidewalk begging for money. I have money I am prepared to give you, but not until you answer my questions. Therefore it is my concern ... if you want my money that is.”

By now I noticed the sun was getting low on the horizon and even though Dallas, Texas wasn’t known for being a cold climate area, it still could get pretty chilly at night, especially this time of year and especially for a young girl with no place to stay and very little clothing to keep her warm. I didn’t see a coat around and all she had on was a raggedy pair of jeans, sneakers with no socks, and a thin sweater-shirt.

“You know we should go to my car where we can talk and be more comfortable. It’s warmer and you wouldn’t have to sit on the cold hard cement.”

“Why so you can rape me or kidnap me or something. No thanks! I’m not stupid you know!”

“No one is calling you stupid miss. And as for raping you or kidnapping you, we are in a parking lot with people all around us. We are close to the front doors of the supermarket. I doubt I would be inclined to rape you or kidnap you with so many witnesses around. But if you would like, I will put the keys to the car in the back seat and leave the doors unlocked, just in case you want to make a fast getaway or something.”

With the conditions I was willing to set, she felt a little more at ease and agreed to walk over to my car with me. We got in and, as I promised, once we were in and the car was started, I tossed the keys in the back seat. My car has an autostart where I can push a button on the key fob and the car will run for ten minutes without the key, but if you step on the brake or try to put it in gear, it will shut off. So I turned the heater on and let it run while we talked.

“Now then, I believe you were about to tell me how old you are and how you came to be sitting in that alcove begging for money.”

“How do I know I can trust you? Why don’t you tell me about yourself first, before I tell you about my life.”

“Okay fair enough. I can see you are a cautious one and that’s good. Well, my name is William and I live here in Dallas. I am thirty eight years old and I work as a computer securities engineer – I make sure companies computers and networks are safe and there’s no viruses or malware infecting them.

“I am divorced and have been for about six years now. I used to live up north in Philadelphia but after the divorce, I wanted to get a fresh start and I got a job down here and moved to Dallas. I like it here – it’s a nice place and certainly a lot warmer than Philly!” I was being deliberately vague, not telling her my last name or exactly what part of Dallas I lived in – I wasn’t stupid either although I seriously doubted she would have the means or ability to find me.

“So you said you’re divorced – do you have any kids?”

“Just one, my daughter. She would be a little younger than you, I suppose – although I don’t know how much younger since I don’t know how old you are yet!”

“Yeah ... listen William, I’m sorry for being such a bitch to you a little while ago, but I have learned that it’s better to be careful around other people. Force of habit with the way things are for me right now, you know what I mean? Anyway, my name is Elizabeth – Beth for short – and I am twenty years old. I have been living on the streets for a little over three years now.”

“And why is that?”

“It’s a long story and I doubt you would want to know about my life. It’s not exactly a fairytale.” She looked down as she spoke and I could feel the sadness in her voice.

“Actually Beth, I would like to hear more about your life. I’ll tell you what. I came over to where you were sitting prepared to give you some money to help you out. But I think I can do you one better, if you are willing. How would you like to come home and have dinner with me? I can promise you we won’t be having candy bars and old peanuts for dinner. And you can tell me this long story of how you got to be sitting in that alcove while we eat.”

She sat there for a minute thinking before she answered. “Are you sure you want me to come home with you? I mean I’m pretty dirty and ... well I haven’t ... um ... showered in a while.”

I laughed. “That’s fine, honey. You can shower and get all freshened up before dinner. Actually, I have some of my daughter’s clothes that just might fit you.”

“Why are you doing this William? I mean you don’t know me from Adam and yet you are taking me, a perfect stranger, into your home – which, judging by the way you are dressed and this car, must be a pretty nice place – and asking me to eat dinner with you. Not to mention the shower and clean clothes. Really, I would have been thankful for a couple dollars worth of spare change, which is what I normally get!”

“Beth, honey, I live alone. I haven’t seen my daughter in over five years, thanks to that ... well thanks to my ex-wife. I miss her very much, but I also miss just having another body around the house. You would be amazed at how quiet a house can get when you are the only one in it. I would welcome the company and conversation if you will join me for dinner.

“Besides, if my daughter were ever to find herself in a position like yours, I would like to think there would be someone out there that would help her just as I am helping you. Let’s just say I’m ‘paying it forward’.”

“But how do you know I won’t steal from you? You trust me that much?”

“Elizabeth, do you know how to drive a stick shift?”

“No, I was never able to learn how to drive.”

“Well then, if you was to steal from me, you could only take what would fit in your pockets. Carrying anything would make you stand out like a sore thumb – especially in my neighborhood. And being on foot, you wouldn’t get very far before the police would catch you anyway. So yes, I believe you are smart enough not to try to bite the hand that feeds you!”

Beth smiled, the first time I had seen her smile. “You have a point. All right, I will join you for dinner then. But only if I can get cleaned up first. I must smell horrible! I can’t smell it because I am used to it, but I don’t know how you can stand me even being in your car!”

I laughed at her remark. “Well Beth, I can always get my car detailed. But I can’t always find such an entertaining young lady to have dinner with!”

With a sweet blush from her, we were off to my house. It took us about thirty minutes to get home from the supermarket I found Beth at. I like working a distance from the house – the drive gives me a chance to get my head in the game on the way there, and a chance to relax and unwind on the way home.

From the way Beth was looking around as we got close to home, I could tell this was a part of Dallas that she didn’t frequent often. Her eyes were wide as she saw the nice homes, landscaped yards, and wide tree-lined streets. My house is in Highland Park – one of the nicer, more affluent neighborhoods north of the city center. People who lived there had an average household income of 300,000 – 350,000 dollars and I was closer to the high end of that range than the low one.