Hope Is Love Read online

  With the shirt, she carefully banded his head tightly muttering about wasting a perfectly good shirt on this white man. It looked as if the bullet had only grazed his skull, but there was enough blood and damage to his skin that it looked as if his brain was gone as well.

  She was not a doctor, but she knew enough street medicine to know when to wrap something to stop or slow down the bleeding. With his pitch-black hair, the darkness of the blood didn't bother her as much and once she put on the hat, he almost seemed to be fine.

  "Help," he whispered and then his teeth chattered.

  She braced her legs tight and put her arms under his pits. Using her back, she was able to get him to sitting up.

  "Help me out, Mister," she ordered in a strain. "Please."

  It took a few more minutes and just as she was about to give up, his legs began to move. Though they were shaky, it was just enough to get her to help him lift up and pull him over the dumpster wall.

  Still no one was around and she slowly lowered him down to the ground. Looking down at his feet, she knew they would freeze before she got them anywhere.

  Taking off her boots, she took off two pairs of her socks and put them on his feet. The last pair had soft rubber soles on the bottom, which she liked to put on to keep the cold off her feet. This would suffice him for at least an hour if he didn’t step in any major puddles and that would be enough time to get him help.

  "You gotta stand up," she ordered him, gripping him under the arms again.

  His eyes were closed and he really seemed dead. His color was fading and she really worried his injuries were worse than what they were. Dry blood now looked like splotches of dirt all over his face and even his clothes had started to freeze in the Downtown icy river wind that whipped about them.

  Yet, his legs began to move and she was able to help him stand up. He leaned heavily on her, but walked with her in a sluggish pace. The man had to be over six feet and felt like he weighed more than the dumpster she had dragged him from.

  Jona walked toward the bus terminal where she hoped there was a police car there or some more help.

  If they passed anyone, the person was either on the other side of the street or just walked faster to get away from her and the stranger. Jona really felt like giving up. Her back was screaming in pain from his weight, but she couldn't give up right now. It was just a few more blocks to the bus terminal.

  Just as they arrived at the public bus terminal near downtown Detroit, she saw a patrol car slowly circling for safety. Hurriedly, she found a bench for the injured stranger to get on, and then proceeded to run across the street to flag down the officers.

  They were about to pull off, but in her relief, the officer sitting on the passenger side noticed her and made the driver hold up.

  The passenger side officer warily rolled down the window partially as Jona walked up to that side of the car.

  Relief filled her because even though she had stolen from this man, she was going to get him off her hands and wouldn’t have to worry about her conscious.

  "I need help," she said breathlessly. "This guy got shot and he gotta be taken to the hospital." She pointed to the bench where the stranger had now slumped off and was laying down.

  "We're not a taxi service," the officer said.

  "I know that, but he got shot."

  "What? With a fifth of whiskey, lady?" the officer sneered.

  Immediately Jona knew this officer was not going to be of any help. Bending down further to catch the eye of the other officer, she said pleading, "Please, he' s gonna die!"

  "We're gonna die if we have to continue to smell you," the driver said chuckled. "See I told ya, she just wanted nothing. Let's get our ass out of here. It's Christmas Eve and I don't wanna hear any more crap."

  Jona had forgotten the filthy coat she used to ward off the dangerous men on the street.

  The window rolled up as Jona patted and pleaded, "Please help. Please officer. He's dying."

  Her begging went for nothing because the officers drove away just laughing at her.

  Cursing, she went back across the street to sit the stranger up. Her back was killing her, but she knew if she tried to get him to the hospital or a walk in, she wouldn't have enough to get home. She wouldn't have enough time if she took him anywhere to get back on the street and get any money before the holiday was over with. She could possibly starve to death, go in a dangerous area or not find a warm place to settle down, because she was stuck on the wrong side of town away from where she would be safe and warm.

  With it being the holiday, no one seemed to want to take her serious and the stranger didn’t seem coherent enough to help her find someone either. He really did look like he was intoxicated from the slumped position he was in. The best idea was to get him over to the church where she also had a place she could stay warm through the holidays. Hopefully, they could make it there in time before it became full.

  The bus came and Jona was able to get him to step up on the bus and after she sat him down, she used the last of her money to pay the fair for the both of them. She tried to make eye contact with the driver, but he looked like he was about the vomit from the smell of her and frowned when she took overly long to pay the fair.

  When she sat down beside the stranger, he slowly opened his eyes and moved his lips as if speaking. She was mesmerized at the fascinating green eyes that peaked over his eyelids graced with long black lashes.

  "What are you saying?" she asked.

  "Where am I?" he asked his eyes glazing over her face.

  She knew he couldn't really see her and was still very much out of it.

  "I'm trying to get you help," she said reaching down and squeezing his hand, wondering if he must be scared. "Just stay still."

  It would be cruel to just leave him on the bus. Although he would most likely get help to treat his wound, the people who had actually did this to him would not be caught. What if the man had lost this memory? Who would take care of him?

  Maybe this was some kind of blessing and she would be able to get some kind of reward?

  While on the trip over to the church, Jona searched through his pants pockets, but there was nothing on him. No wallet, no money, no kind of identification. Stupid, she told herself, Maybe that item you sold could have identified him!

  Sighing in disappointed, she leaned forward to put her hand over her eyes in frustration.

  Maybe this was a punishment after all and her kindness had over extended to someone who would be absolutely useless? Or this was punishment for pawning his possessions. Guilt filled her and she knew she couldn’t abandoned him on the bus, but she’d be damn if she was going to use the money she really needed unless she really had to.

  "Where are we?" he asked again groggily, but his eyes were now closed and his head was leaning on her shoulder.

  It took a moment for her to answer, because she hadn't been a "we" in a very long time. "On a bus."

  "Bus? I never rode a bus."

  "What's your name, Mister?" she questioned.

  He started to answer her, but then stopped himself as he had lost his thought. He looked up at her and she wanted to drown in his most extraordinary warm deep green colored eyes with a touch of smoky gray around the edge.

  Caught off guard immediately at how handsome this man was, she almost forgot her train of thought.

  "What is my name?" he questioned her.

  She shrugged. "You'll have to tell me. I just found you like this."

  He looked down at himself as if he didn't know his head was attached to his body. "I'm not like you."

  "What do you mean?"

  "You're black." He said this as if it were a secret to everyone else including her.

  Jona smiled. "What are you? College educated? It must've took a lot to come up with that observation."

  "You're being sarcastic?" he asked kindly.

  "I don't know what that means."

  "So you're not college educated," he explained.

>   She rolled her eyes and decided not to speak to him. Whoever he was he had to be worth some money and maybe she could get enough money out of this when it was all said and done.

  "I'm hungry," he whined, but his eyes were closed again and obviously he didn't care he'd pissed her off again, because he leaned his head back on her shoulder. "And your coat smells horrendous, but I'm too damn tired and cold to care or move away."

  Jona accessed him carefully. Picking up his large hand, she saw they were soft and flawless. This man had never worked a hard day in his life. It was difficult to know this was the first man she had ever really met that didn't have his hands tore up from the floor up.

  Looking around to see if anyone was watching them, she waited until the bus driver seemed to concentrate on the road before she raised his hand to her nose. Her sense of smell picked up a strong oak, a scented oil and something else that seemed sweet, but aromatic.

  A soap? An expensive fragrance? Either way it adhered to his skin despite what he'd been tossed in recently.

  He had to be about six foot four and weighed about two hundred a fifty pounds. Like she'd noticed in the dumpster, she saw he really was all muscle and looked back at his left hand again, she saw there was no remnants of ring around the base.

  Not married, businessman? she surmised.

  That'd be the only explanation, but what would be his reasons for being in a dark alley, on Christmas Eve in Detroit with payoff money.

  White people usually only hung around Downtown Detroit in business attire during business hours of the city government.

  What had he been arguing about in the alley with the lady? A pay off?

  Money. And the expensive car had to have been his.

  This was all assumptions.

  This guy could be a broke gigolo, siphoning off that woman and her husband decided to get revenge.

  Jona didn't know anything and the way this man seemed to have lost his memory, neither did he.

  Chapter 3

  The bus driver came almost to the end of the line and said, "You gotta get off by the end of the line, ma'am."

  She was used to the rude treatment, but it was the holiday. Most of the buses would be shut down for Christmas.

  She pulled the bell and shook the stranger. He groggily looked up at her and smiled.

  Her breath caught in her throat as she looked down at his gorgeous face.

  "Is it time to eat?" he questioned.

  "Let's go." She helped him up, while holding on to a bar so she wouldn't lose her balance when the bus stopped.

  The driver looked very relieved they were getting off. Once they planted both of their feet on the ground outside of the bus, the driver quickly drove away. Jona wondered why no one seemed suspicious of a white man and a black woman together. She was conscious of this man’s color, but were times that hard that no one thought it strange a white man was hanging around the streets?

  Gently, she encouraged the stranger to walk with her and ignored the pain in her back as they hiked toward the church.

  To her dismay, the doors were closed and people who had not gotten in were dispersing.

  "Fuck!' she sneered knowing they'd missed out.

  "Are we getting something to eat?" he asked.

  Jona groaned and guided him around to the back of the church. There had been times when she had been late before, in dire need and sometimes able to get the person in the kitchen to get the mother of the church for her. The first time was when her life had been in jeopardy and she hoped this time the person in the kitchen would understand her predicament or remember her.

  She knocked until her knuckles became raw and then she cut her hand on the hard paint sticking out before the door finally opened.

  A heavy set black man with an apron on looked very annoyed as he looked at her and the stranger who was now leaning literally on Jona. The church member had food remnants all over his clothes and she assumed this was the cook, most likely exhausted from cooking all day and in the midst of cleaning the kitchen.

  "What?!" the cook barked. "We're full tonight. We ain’t taking no more."

  "I don't want to come in. I just need the mother. Please. This guy… my friend has been hurt and I need first aid and some shoes, please,” she begged, thinking if the cook thought this was someone close to her, he would be prone to help her out more.

  "Take him to the hospital," the cook barked.

  "Please help me and get the mother," she said as calmly as she could. Yet on the inside, she was raging with panic because never in her life had she ever been responsible for another life.

  The stranger decided to open his eyes and looked at the cook, but then he looked down at her knuckles. "She needs help because she's bleeding." He held Jona’s hand up so the cook could see the damage the door had done to her.

  Snatching her hand away from the stranger, Jona could feel his legs were giving out because he was putting a lot more weight on her. Her thoughts constantly were screaming, Why? Why? Why? At any moment she could have just let him go and walked away from all this.

  The cook disappeared from the door and Jona pushed the stranger against the wall by the door to give her aching back a rest.

  Jona was sure her whole body was going to pay for all this strenuous exercise she was going through today. On top of that, she wasn’t back to health from what she’d just gone through days ago. Why? Why? Why?! Her thoughts continued to scream.

  He reached down and took her hand again. She tried to pull away from his touch, but he held her hand tightly. "You're really hurt."

  She rolled her eyes because he obviously still had no idea how really hurt he was. "I'm fine," she said. "It's you we should be worried about." It still felt odd to say “we” which was why she emphasized the word so sarcastically.

  The door opened again and the distraction served as a way for her to snatch her hand away from the stranger’s gentle touch that was starting to affect her. The cook had a big coat, a large thick paper bag and a first aid kit. "The mother ain't here, but I told one of them you some girl in a smelly coat was asking for her and the woman said see what I could do to help you. But we can’t take nobody else. We’re walled to walled.”

  “Can you call an ambulance? He’s hurt.”

  “Look,” the man said exasperated and harsh. “Ain’t nothing a little sleep for his drunk ass won’t cure. I got a million things to do other than stand here in the cold and I brought a first aid kit. What else to you want?”

  Looking at the prison tattoos on his arms and neck, Jona figured this guy was probably at the church serving his community service and had something against calling 911 for anything – even if it was really needed.

  Sighing disappointedly, not wanting to agitate him anymore, she took the coat from the cook and also the pair of rubber boats he handed her as well.

  "Can you put these on?" she asked the stranger.

  He reached for the coat, but his equilibrium was off because when she handed it to him, he immediately dropped it.

  The cook shook his head and said, "You need to tell your friend to stay off the liquor."

  "He's not drunk. He's hurt," she reiterated in exasperation.

  The cook left them alone while Jona helped the stranger put on the worn black coat with extra lining and the rubber boots. His feet were so cold she had forgotten he didn't have on any shoes. She decided to wait until they got to her hideout before checking the damage to his feet.

  The cook returned with some extra socks and a blanket.

  "That's all I can help you with, girl."

  "Thank you," Jona said gratefully knowing this guy really was doing all he could without calling the police.

  "Thank you," the stranger mocked still out of sorts leaning back on Jona.

  The cook looked in disappointment at the man still convinced the stranger was drunk and then closed the door. Joana had a feeling he wasn't coming back to the door and she wrapped the coat around the stranger’s broad shoulders like a cape and
put the socks in the bag. Inside of the bag was some warmed up meat and bread, along with some donuts and some salad with juice boxes, plus some packets of instant soup and hot cocoa.

  Along with the stranger, she had to carry the bag as well because she didn't trust him to keep hold of it.

  Four blocks away, she went down an alley and through an abandoned backyard.

  By the time she got to the side of the abandoned house, she felt she was practically dragging him. Blood was now soaking onto her coat and he seemed really out of it.

  Instead of food, he kept mumbling to her how thirsty he was. She let him slide down to the ground by the side door and then went over to the basement windows of the abandoned house.

  She quietly jiggled open the lock and pushed the window open to the inside. Quickly, she climbed through and dug around in her deep pockets for her pocket flashlight. Once she was assured there was no one around including small animals or rodents, she crawled over her make-shift barrier to the stairs where the side door was.

  She pulled away all the junk she had piled by the door and then the bars to make sure no one could just kick in the door. This house had been chosen by her very carefully. The great foundation and structure along with the way the basement was insulated from flooding and the utilities had been shut off completely in advanced. The thieves had already been through and completely stripped everything that was valuable so she knew really no one should come to bother the house for any reason. She had installed the doors and boarded up the windows on the first floor herself to keep stragglers and teenagers from exploring the home when she wasn’t able to get there or find her stash she kept there.

  In the basement, she had purposely made it difficult for anyone trying to go through the house. If someone ever bought the home, they would just clean everything out, but if someone was just trying to look through the house seeing all that makeshift junk usually turned them away.

  Deliberately, she kept the house clean so animals like rodents or raccoons wouldn't harbor around.