Free The Hard Way by Carol Lea Benjamin Page B

some change, holding it out to her. Eunice put out her hand, palm up, and the man dropped two quarters into it. So many homeless, Eunice thought, how did people figure out which ones to help?
    â€œGod bless,” she said as he took a step to go around her, around the dog, too.
    Even that didn’t do it, even hearing her voice.
    Hadn’t he loved her once? Hadn’t she loved him? Where had it all gone, all that emotion? She might have been one of the statues in the park for all she felt for him now.
    She turned and watched him pass by where Eddie was sitting, his arms tight around his body. She watched him cross the park and head west, past where the chess players sat when it wasn’t snowing.She watched until he was out of sight. Then she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, reminding herself who she was. “Eunice,” she whispered once, and then again. And then Eddie was at her side, reaching into his pocket and handing her a hunk of bread. She saw he’d slit it open, put some butter inside. She grabbed it and bit off a piece, nothing she’d ever eaten in her entire life tasting as good. Putting her free hand into his pocket, Eunice dropped the two quarters there, then she told him what she’d heard, asking if he’d go to Penn Station with her.
    â€œWe have to walk,” he told her. He wasn’t shaking anymore.
    â€œI can do that.”
    â€œWhat about him?”
    â€œHe can do that.”
    â€œNo. I mean at Penn Station.”
    â€œLeave it to me,” Eunice told him. “I know what to do.”
    And ten minutes later, walking up Fifth Avenue, “You think it might be him?”
    Eddie didn’t answer her. How the hell was he supposed to know if the man called Florida was the man Eunice was looking for, the one who’d pushed someone off the platform and into the path of an oncoming train? He didn’t even know who he was.
    â€œCould be anyone,” he finally said. “Could be she was talking through her hat.”
    â€œDidn’t have one,” Eunice said.
    Eddie, or whatever his name was, nodded.
    â€œThat place you offered me to sleep?”
    He looked at her the way Lookout did, giving her all his attention.
    â€œIt’s along the river, across from the meat market?”
    â€œYeah, that’s it.”
    â€œPretty cold spot,” she said.
    He nodded.
    â€œBut?”
    â€œGood view.” His shoulders hunched, he picked up the pace, Eunice and Lookout keeping up.
    Out in the weather, things made sense that didn’t make sense indoors, Eunice thought. Her hand still in the relative warmth of Eddie’s pocket, they headed toward Penn Station to look for the tall man, for Florida.
    Suppose they found him, Eunice thought. Then what?

8
    There was a policeman standing against the wall when they entered Penn Station, but he was looking the other way and, when he did turn toward Eunice and the soldier, it was Lookout he saw first. He pushed off from the wall, then changed his mind, leaning back again. Two crazies with a pit bull? Not for what he was getting paid.
    Or maybe it was compassion, the snow so wet now, flakes as big as bedsheets. The dog was wet, too, not to mention cold. Either way, the policeman stayed where he was, pretending he hadn’t seen them. But even if he’d come over to them, even if he’d told them they couldn’t be there with a dog, Eunice had a plan.
    Penn Station was for the hard-core homeless, the long-term homeless, the homeless who’d kill you as soon as look at you. Eunice didn’t need Eddie to tell her that. This time, Eunice thought, she would keep her mouth shut. This was why she needed him, the soldier, for this population. But she’d keep her eyes open, looking not at the people watching the timetable, waiting to see when their train pulled in, what track it was on. Not those people, the ones with rolling suitcases, leather laptop bags, presents wrapped in