Free On the Streets of New Orleans by Lynn Lorenz Page A

than a foot from him.
    He liked this, lying in the dark, feeling the weight of Tony next to him and the sound of his breathing, knowing they were sharing this time together. It wasn’t scary, but comforting.
    “Where you from, Scott?” The question came out of the dark.
    For a moment it startled Scott. He thought that since Tony had refused to talk about family, this was an odd question. Unless Tony wanted to talk about family but didn’t know how to start.
    Scott figured it was up to him to get the ball rolling.
    “From a little town up in St. Tammy parish. You wouldn’t have heard of it. Anyway, I never knew my dad. He left before I was even born. We were real poor. Poor white trash is what they usually called us. My mom got sick and died when I was eight. I had to go to the neighbors to get help, but it was too late.” Scott paused to take a breath. “No one claimed me, so I went to a group home. Stayed there until I was sixteen, then I ran away. I never finished high school.”
    “I did.” Scott heard the touch of pride in Tony’s voice. “You come here then?”
    “Not at first. Mostly I hung around town. But by then I knew I was gay, and I’d already had more beatdowns over that, so I knew I couldn’t stay. I’d always heard about New Orleans, and the French Quarter and gays, so I thought I’d come here.”
    “Sorry about your mom, man. So you came here about what, three years ago?”
    Scott laughed. “My timing sucks. I got here the June before Katrina hit. I’d been living on the streets. That’s where I met Charlie. He was the one who talked me into coming to the shelter.”
    “Oh.” Scott felt a ripple of something pour off Tony. Probably jealousy, but there was no need for that. Charlie had never tried anything with Scott, had been more like a big brother watching out for him.
    “Yeah, well. Just before the hurricane hit, they bused us to Baton Rouge, to a shelter there. We stayed there until they reopened the city, then they bused the ones who wanted to return back.”
    “You didn’t want to stay?”
    “Naw, Baton Rouge was okay, you know, but I wanted to be here.” Scott shrugged. “There’s just something about this city, you know. It’s the place, the food, the atmosphere, and the people. Great people, like Tiffany, the guys from the club, and you.”
    Although he couldn’t see it, he could tell Tony was grinning.
    “Anyway, I’ve been here ever since. End of story.” Scott let it hang out there, the invitation to share, but without asking.
    “I lived here all my life. Grew up in the Ninth Ward.”
    “That was where the levee broke, right?”
    “Right.” Tony shuddered, and Scott reached out to stroke his arm, soothing his lover. “My mama was just a no-good junkie, so my grandmama took care of us kids. She died when I was sixteen.”
    “How many kids?” Scott figured that was a safe question.
    “Me, the two boys, D’orel and D’enzel, and Baby Girl.”
    “Were the boys twins?”
    “No, just real close in age. They looked alike ’cause they had the same daddy. Not the same as my daddy or Baby Girl’s. They were light-skinned like Mama and Grandmama. Baby Girl and me, we’re dark.”
    “Oh.” Scott didn’t want to say too much, just wanted to give Tony room to talk. He slid his hand down, found Tony’s hand, and wove their fingers together.
    “I promised I’d look out for them. Promised Mama when she left us and promised my grandmama before she died.” There was an edge in Tony’s voice that cut Scott’s heart.
    “Your mom left? When?”
    “Two days before Katrina. She and her pimp booked it, man.” There was a lot of anger in Tony’s soft voice. “Left me in charge.”
    “You were what—seventeen?”
    “Eighteen.”
    “You were really still a kid, Tony.”
    “I was in charge , man. The man of the house.” Tony bit out the words, hard and sharp. “They were my responsibility. Mine. ” Tony trembled.
    Scott kept quiet.
    Tony took a deep breath