The wait was an eternal five minutes. Nathan came walking back coughing into his hands every few steps. He laid down next to Ava on the cement, and I quickly explained to him what Sam had stupidly done. Nathan said nothing, just reached up and began stroking his granddaughter’s hair. Having held it in long enough, Ava finally began to cry with her head buried into her grandfather’s chest. The sound of sirens could be heard in the distance. The few neighbors The Palace had from surrounding apartments woke up from their sleep and crowded the street.

I stared into the blaze, every shadow in my mind was Sam and Pam. Finally, one shadow grew and took a human shape until it couldn’t be my imagination. Sam was bent over and dragging a non moving Pam.

The sirens became deafening as the truck pulled up and blocked the view of The Palace. I ran around the side of the fire engine just in time to see Sam collapse on top of Pam’s body as soon as he cleared the door. There was a mighty creak and the roof of The Palace became the floor. Fireflies of flame danced up into the night sky, mingling with the snow flurries that had begun to float down. I ran forward only to be held back by what felt like a brick wall and not the arms of a firefighter. The man walked me backwards away from the flames, and away from Pam and Sam.

Someone was screaming. It took my mind a moment to register the words, and it took a moment longer for me to realize it was my own voice scratchy from smoke inhalation.

“This is my fault!” I couldn’t stop screeching. They could be dead and it was all because of me. The firefighter finally let me go when my muscles grew weak with the struggle. I staggered for a moment before vomiting onto the street.

The ambulance arrived soon after and loaded the unconscious bodies into the back. It rushed off with the sirens wailing into the night. Nathan looked at Ava for only a moment before deciding she needed medical care even if he couldn’t afford it, and had her taken to the hospital, as well. I coughed out a decline to the EMS team. I had no insurance, all my papers were gone up in smoke, and it was better if I wasn’t in a place where an agent could easily find me to finish the job. They insisted, and again I declined. The two EMS personnel looked at each other and shrugged with their eyes before turning away from me.

The crowd of neighbors grew as they watched the firefighters battle the blaze. I sat on the sidewalk alone, watching what had become my home over the past months turn to ash. The old floor boards eaten up by the greedy flames. Absent-mindedly, I wondered if the rats made it out. By the time the flames were out, The Palace was a blackened pile of shadow darker than the night sky. With the flames defeated, the crowd lost interest. One of the police officers came over to me and sat down next to me on the sidewalk.

“Did you live here?”

I nodded.

“Do you have a place to go?”

No. My parents live three states away, with no desire to see their failure come back to haunt them.

The officer became nervous at my silence. “The shelter might not be full. There’s just one left on this side of town...I would offer you to stay at my place. But you know, we have to document anyone who lives under our roof. Ongoing census and all.”

I perfectly well remembered the ongoing census. It was Persim’s first act as President. “A way to not only keep our census the most up to date in the world, but to track terrorism and end it before more American soil becomes a battleground.” It also became a method to keep track of any immigrants that had American family members helping them out. Deportation rates skyrocketed after implementation.

“I have family,” I said. Which was not a lie, I had a family just not here.

The man smiled at me, and pushed himself up with his hands on his knees. He walked to his cruiser, spoke mumbled words to his partner, and came back to me with a pair of steel toed boots in his hands. “Extra work pair I keep in the cruiser. Wear them until your family comes to pick you up,” he smiled sympathetically. I took the oversized boots and slid them over my now charcoal black socks. I pulled the strings tight. The shoes were loose, but with the laces taught they wouldn’t fall off. The officer walked away to his cruiser, where his partner was already in the front seat, and they drove off. The firefighters loaded up, none even looked in my direction as I watched from the unlit sidewalk, wrapped in the small portion of my green blanket that wasn’t burned, and soon they were gone, as well.

I sat on the sidewalk until my butt was numb from the cold. I needed to get to the hospital. I was mad at myself for not thinking to ask for a ride with Nathan and Ava in the ambulance earlier. I stood up and clenched my hands together. It was slow and painful. I knew I needed to get inside first before I got frostbite. Logically, I knew the shelter would be full, but it was my only hope. The cold was settling into my body even though I walked as fast as I could without coughing. Soon the soreness in my muscles was replaced by searing pain from the cold. The kind of pain that feels hot at first and slowly spreads from the toes and fingertips to the hands and feet. A few minutes later the heat and pain were replaced by a warm numbness. Having lived in the north my whole life, I knew that this was not a good thing; despite the relief compared to the bitter bites of the cold. It almost made me want to lie down where I was and sleep.

I heard my stomach growl, but I couldn’t feel the hunger. I couldn’t remember the last thing I had eaten that day, but it didn’t matter. It was as if the hunger pangs belonged to someone else. My walk slowed to a shuffle. If I collapsed here, who would know? Would Nathan or Sam think to look for my body on St. Cloud Avenue? Probably not. The streets looked empty. Even the local gang members were probably tucked away inside tonight. Too cold to take advantage of the cover of a new moon.

It was either by chance or luck that I noticed the blanket. Six street lights in a row were out, but at the end of the string of darkness one lamp burned a golden circle on the ground and attracted my gaze. My eyes landed on the black and red woolen plaid pattern. It was much thicker than the one I had wrapped around me now. The shape of a curled up body lay beneath, but it seemed still. My mind flashed back to the overpass, and I shuffled toward it. Sure enough there was a woman beneath. Her eyes were closed, unlike the man I saw before, but they were furrowed together with such distress and discomfort that I felt like I was contributing to her shitty life as I bent down to take the blanket. I stared at the woman feeling pity for a moment before I bent down again to try and slide the gloves off of her frozen hands. She wasn’t going to be needing them anymore after all.

I pulled and wriggled the yellow cotton from her fingers. I managed to get one off and began working on the next. This hand was clenched in a fist. Determined to have the warmth, I pulled on her fingers to open the palm with more strength than I would have thought I needed. The hand came open with a crack. I could see through the outline of the glove where her dismembered pinky now rested. I quickly turned to vomit the acid that remained in my stomach on the snow powdered blacktop. Turning to walk away, I threw the gloves’ partner to the ground. I wrapped the thick blanket around myself and continued my walk, dropping my thin green blanket so that it covered the woman’s face.

With my body numb my mind began to wander. I thought about when I first came to the city. It was the year Persim was elected into office. Then the poverty here seemed so surreal to me. I felt pity for everyone I passed on the street. I gave a few dollars to those that were missing limbs or professed to be pregnant, but as my savings ran out, so too did the job interviews. Suddenly, I would become defensive when a beggar would stick out their hand. I would lie and hold on tightly to the change in my pocket as I passed them by. Then I was out of money for the motel I was staying at, my “temporary” place until I got a job and an apartment. I had never slept on the streets before, and the idea had still never crossed my mind until this night. I found The Palace late in the evening, and Pam offered me a smile when I came in asking the price of a room. Back then she charged $15.00 a night. It was all I had left.

Now the thought of sleeping on the street did creep into my mind, but with the cold front it was about -1 degree outside. I had no desire to become a human icicle, so I trudged on. I knew stopping meant death, and I wouldn’t let the agents have the satisfaction.

Finally, I approached the steps to the shelter. This one was twice as far as St. Peter’s had been, but it was the only one that had enough resources to remain open. Above the two metal front doors read the worn sign Angelica’s House. I opened the door into the reception area. The foyer was crowded with bodies, and I bumped a few arms and legs as I pushed the door open wide enough to walk through. A woman at the desk looked up at me, her hair was frizzy and dark circles behind her glasses betrayed her friendly smile. I didn’t even say a word to her before she began, “Dangerous temperatures outside. I regret to inform you that we have no beds, no hot water, and no food. However, you are welcome to the floor and we do have a few more blankets. No pillows, I’m afraid.”

“Thank you,” I rasped. Then I coughed. The smoke still burned my lungs.

“Find space where you can,” she smiled a warm but frail grin and handed me a folded blanket.

I looked around the entrance way, and I knew when the door opened the chill probably woke all of these people up. With no desire to have fingers of the cold wind climbing up my back every time the door opened, I continued into a larger room, what I assumed was the cafeteria. It was full of cots sleeping two each, and in between the cots were sleeping bags on the floor. I tiptoed my way through the sleeping bodies until I found a space along the far wall. The stone wall seeped a chill into my back muscles, but it was nothing compared to being outside. I was happy that the pain was gone from my limbs, and the soreness was coming back. I slowly clenched my fists and toes, and once satisfied that I wasn’t going to lose any of them, I spread the shelter’s blanket out on the floor and curled up beneath the dead woman’s wool blanket.

The floor was unforgiving. The yellowing tile reeked of bleach, and the sounds of coughing echoed off of it. I got up multiple times, so thirsty. I bundled up my blankets and took them with me to the restroom because I feared someone would steal them if I walked away. I set them at my feet as I drank ice cold water from the tap. The water felt like heaven on my raw throat.

At 6:00 a.m. sharp the white electric lights buzzed on. The only reason I knew it to be 6:00 a.m. was because a large woman came in and shouted, “6 o’ clock on the dot! Breakfast will be served for children and the elderly only. On the double people, we got to get this room cleared for eatin’.”

I sat up and cracked my back. I didn’t make an effort to stand for a moment or two, no rush. There would be lines to turn the blankets in anyway. It was then that I noticed the man making his way from person to person. He seemed to be avoiding the groups and talking to the loners. The faces of the strangers would go from early morning tired to a deeply disturbed look like a dark cloud had passed over them. They would nod, and the man would hand them a slip of paper. He finished his 5th conversation and looked around the room. His scan found me staring straight at him. He smiled and began to saunter my way.

Curiosity held me to the spot. As he neared me, I stood up. He had a flat nose that bent up to where I could see inside his oblong nostrils if I had the desire to do so. And he was hairy. His dark black eyebrows reminded me of The Grouch and I could see the dark hairs on his arms sticking out of the ends of his sleeves and even a few could be seen above the collar of his coat.

“Awful place to spend the night,” he paused. “Won’t be long until this is the Penthouse at Persim Tower though. No food to support a city of no goods.”

Here I interrupted him, “And wouldn’t you be one of these ‘no goods’?”

His face fell into a sadness, “Yes, yes, I suppose I am. No work, no family, no friends. My life would be better ended. Most of our lives will be better on the other side. A fresh start, don’t you agree?”

Yes, I do. I opened my mouth to tell this man so, but when I did my mouth tasted of honey. That dream. The man took my silence for agreement. I stared at him. The whites of his eyes almost seemed to glow an iridescent blue.

“I know a place where things would be better.” He reached into his pocket and took out a slip of paper. He smiled at me with pity and understanding.

No, not understanding. I couldn’t shake the sweetness from my tongue.

Think logically for God’s sake.

Honey, the man is deceiving you.

Deceit? No, he’s trying to kill you. Kill us.

I blinked. My head hurt. Us? I’m losing my mind. Voices in my head. I closed my eyes and pressed my hands into my temples. I felt a weight on my right side. I opened my eyes. The man was putting a slip of paper into my jean’s pocket.

“It’s okay to end it. You’ll be helping the country. Persim cares for you.” He patted the pocket he had just slipped his fingers out of and a tsunami of absolute repulsion swept through my entire body. And then he was gone into the mingle of people still folding up their blankets.

The honey flavor left my mouth in one swallow. Then I tried something I never thought I would do. Hello? I thought. Hellooooo?

“Sweetie, are you okay?” I came out of my trance, listening for the new voices in my head, at the touch of the large woman’s long, pink nails on my shoulder.

“I’m sorry, I’m fine,” I muttered. I grabbed my blanket off the floor and walked out of the cafeteria.

Outside it was still cold, but much more bearable. Maybe in the 30s. Reaching into my pocket I took out the slip of paper. It was crisp and clean, folded neatly in half.

4568 Grunsburrow Avenue

Start over.

I knew where Grunsburrow was. It ran a few blocks behind the library I frequented. My feet began to carry me that way, but I stopped. Pam. I owed it to Pam to go to the hospital. And it wasn’t just Pam, but Nathan, Ava, and even the quiet Sam. I hadn’t known them for very long, but it had been some time since I had people in my life that I could consider friends.

There was no hospital in the East End. Well there was, but it has been shut down for years and legend had it that the place was haunted. The nearest hospital was St. Mary’s after the 58 overpass. I assumed that was where they all were, after all that was where most people with no insurance ended up. A good 6 miles away at least. I took a deep breath, wrapped my blanket around me tightly, and started walking briskly in the cold.