Free The Life of Lol by Andrew Birch

her back her shoes, socks and sweater.  Lol thought about what he’d said… ‘One of us’, and refused the things,
    “I’m fine as I am”, she said sullenly.
    But Groucho got cross. 
    “You won’t be one of us if you’re dead of hypothermia”, he grumbled, “and then whose gonna bury you’re sorry ass.  Not me, that’s for sure.  Besides, nobody’s telling you to wash your face.  Bit of dirt never did a kid any harm.  
     
    They did the restaurant jaunt regularly.  Sometimes with Dreamer, sometimes, when Dreamer was off getting a fix, just the two of them.  Groucho got busy teaching Lol his tricks, and his many schemes, in between rambling about the government.  At one time, it seemed, he’d had a family and a daughter of his own, but of that he would only say “Tinkerbell.  Lost by the sea”  Nothing more, and when Lol asked, he would get rather cross with her.  The people at the home were cross with her all the time now, mainly due to her walking the streets most of the day and her scruffy hobo appearance.  Lol often came back with her shoes around her neck, knotted together with the laces and walking barefoot on the sidewalk, but she was part of a group now, and in her own mind, wouldn’t have cared if they kicked her out.  But all the same, it was nice to curl up in her nice warm bed, especially in winter.  She suddenly thought of poor Groucho, out in the open air.  There had to be a plan.  But he didn’t know of any, or care enough to think of one.  Most of the people in the hostels and boarding rooms knew Groucho, and had grown tired of his conspiracies and grifting ways.
    “Give me an inch and I’ll take the whole damned yardstick”, he’d said.
    And so Lol thought hard.  She needed him to have a warm night, after all he was her friend and friends cared for each other.  She’d learned that much.  And so, one day when they were out combing the streets, Lol stopped outside the 4 th street mission hostel for homeless people. 
    “Just a minute” she said and wandered inside.
    “I ain’t allowed in there”, he shouted after her, “the fbi got to them, least I think it was them, some kind of secret service.  They’re following me, ya know, kid.”
    The kid had disappeared inside.  Groucho wondered whether or not to wander off and leave her behind, but he couldn’t.  The kid made him laugh, and she was clever.  Didn’t meet so many clever kids these days, there was something in the damn Nintendo machines that made them dumb.  Not this kid.  This kid knew how to work a con.  And, in some dark recess of his weakened mind, she reminded him of his Tinkerbell.
    Tinkerbell.  Lost in the sea. 
    Damn that kid, where was she.  At that moment, she came through the door.
    “I got myself a place in there for tonight”, she said matter of factly, before chuckling,
    “Boo hoo”, she added, “I’m all homeless.  Poor little me”
    “Well that’s fantastic for ya”, he grunted, “now you got two places to sleep tonight.  Think of poor me sleeping in a goddam doorway while you’re splitting yourself between the two”
    “NO dumbass”, she said smiling, “I go in here nine o clock, leave the snick on the side door and go to bed.  Then you sneak in here, come to the top floor, find my room and creep in.”
    “How will I find your room”, he asked
    “It’ll be the one with me in it, dumbass” she laughed, “I’ll leave it a little open.  And I’ll save some food.  Don’t go in another room though, don’t wanna be getting into bed with some other homeless guy”
    “I ain't getting into bed with you! He growled, “I’ve smelled you up close!”
    “Fine”, she said, “sleep on the floor.  I know I’ll be comfortable”
    “What will the home say”, he asked, taking her hand as they walked away?
    “Who cares”, she replied, “,maybe they’ll think I’ve been murdered?”
    “Maybe you will be?” he said with a twinkle in his eye.
    Later that