Compass
The bell above the door chimed loudly as Rowan walked into the bookstore. As soon as he stepped foot inside, Rowan wondered if he had made a mistake. The man who was standing at the front counter glanced up at the bell ring and Rowan waited for the man to kick him out, but the man said a polite hello and went right back to his book. Rowan glanced around the bookstore and his jaw dropped. The variety of books on the shelf caught his eye as the bright colors of their spines called his name.
Not wanting to bother the man standing behind the counter, he explored the bookstore, marveling at the bookshelves that extended up into the ceiling, filled to the brim with different sized books. He climbed a wheeling ladder that was leaning against some shelves, just to be able to try it out but quickly climbed down again when he felt it shift. As he explored the bookstore, he kept running into dead ends and discovered interesting areas. One of the dead ends was a fireplace that was shoved in between two bookshelves. There was a large chair by the fire with a book on the seat. Rowan moved the book and sat down on the chair. He felt like he was being swallowed up and he quickly swam out through the folds of the fabric. Another nook had a large, ornate window with a view of a beautiful garden that looked well tended. The sunlight through the window warmed Rowan and he wanted to stay in that nook forever but he kept on moving.
After exploring for a while and getting turned around more times than he could count, Rowan finally found the classics section and was greeted with a variety of old and newer looking books. He ran his fingers down the spines and when he drew them back, he found them covered in dust. Rowan looked through the books until he found a book that he recognized. One of the nicer houses he had stayed at before getting kicked out had put the book on their mantle. Rowan had been forced to read the book to his younger foster brothers and sisters but he found that he didn’t really mind as the book had been pretty interesting. He grabbed the book off of the shelf and opened it up, discovering little illustrations inside.
“That’s a pretty good book,” the bookstore owner said behind him.
Rowan tried not to flinch. He hadn’t heard the owner coming behind him, which surprised him as he usually didn’t get scared by things like that, “Yeah,” Rowan replied, not really interested in trying to maintain a conversation.
“Actually, I have some other books I think you’ll like,” the bookstore owner replied.
He disappeared into the back of the bookstore as Rowan shifted from foot to foot. Finally, the bookstore owner came back from behind the counter carrying three more books. He slid them across the counter to Rowan, “Try these ones,” he said, “If you don’t like them, then you can just bring them back.”
Rowan reached into his pocket to pay the man. He searched desperately for any change that he had but the man held up his hand, “There’s no need,” he said.
“Are you sure?” Rowan asked.
“There aren’t many people still reading books these days,” the bookstore owner replied, “They’re a gift.”
“Thank you,” Rowan said as he took the books. As he walked to the door, Rowan waited for the bookstore owner to tell him that he was just joking and that Rowan had to actually pay for the books, but Rowan pulled the door open and the door slammed shut behind him, causing him to cringe, without a word from the bookstore owner.
He left the bookstore behind and started walking down the street. His stomach rumbled and Rowan knew that he would have to start looking for food again soon. But he didn’t know where to look, as the supermarket had started to lock the dumpsters that he had been searching through and Rowan didn’t have any other place to go for to food. But Rowan refused to give up. His only other option was to do something that he hated doing, but he had no other choice. He sighed before trudging over to the king’s square.
King Stephen stared at Rowan as Rowan walked into the square. The elements had worn away King Stephen’s face, but Rowan remembered when King Stephen used to gaze out on the crowds with a kind smile. Now, he looked like he was crying as he rode his horse into a battle that the history books hadn’t even remembered. Rowan finally tore his gaze away from King Stephen and instead focused his gaze on the worn cobblestones, worn away by the crowds that flocked to the square everyday. He tried to avoid the pigeons that flocked around him, pecking frantically around his feet as they searched for any scraps that Rowan may drop.
Rowan sat down on one of the ornate metal benches placed around the edge of the square. The rush of tourists had slowed down but there was still a sizeable crowd of moving out and about, throwing bread at the pigeons and ignoring the signs that prohibited them from doing it.
Rowan glanced up, searching the crowd for a good target but he couldn’t find anyone who seemed like a good fit. Rowan knew that it was getting late and that he had to find someone soon or else he wouldn’t be able to eat today. The storm clouds on the horizon promised rain, something Rowan didn’t want to be caught in. But at the same time, he didn’t want to risk getting caught from not being patient enough. If he was caught, he would probably end back into the foster system, before getting shipped off to another home. Maybe in the next home, he wouldn’t be chained to the bed and be allowed to eat once in a while. He ignored his rumbling stomach, trying not to think about the last time that he had eaten. The last time must have been the moldy bagels he had found in the trash can behind the supermarket. The last time Rowan had gotten a full meal was a while ago, back when he was staying with the Gardeners before he had gotten kicked out. But no one cared about one boy on the street and whether he got food and so Rowan was forced to look after himself, in whatever way that he could.
As the storm clouds grew closer to the square, they started looking more threating and Rowan was starting to get desperate. The crowd of tourists would only shrink as time went on. Rowan got up from the bench and slipped into the crowd, pretending that he was fascinated with the pigeons and the statue as his eyes roamed through the crowd, looking for a good target. He finally spotted a tall college-aged guy with what looked like a pretty expensive camera around his neck. He was wearing a long coat and had a shoulder bag.
Rowan reached a hand into his pocket and fingered the small folding knife that he kept there. He knew that it was sharp and would be able to do the job. Rowan started drifting his way through the crowd, making his way towards the man. As he got closer, he saw that the man was busy looking at his phone and Rowan smiled. This guy was the perfect target and was practically offering himself up to Rowan. It wasn’t Rowan’s fault that he was taking the guy up on the offer. Rowan looked in another direction before slamming into the man. His hand darted out of his pocket in one clean, practiced move, and he used the knife to cut the strap of the shoulder bag. Rowan grabbed the bag before it hit the ground. He quickly muttered an apology to the man and kept walking past him, hiding the bag from the guy’s sight, but he felt a hand grab his wrist.
“Give me my bag back,” Rowan glanced back to find himself face to face with the guy. The guy had an angry look on his face.
Rowan’s heart pounded as he quickly freed his hand, turned and ran through the crowd, trying to get as far from the man as he could before the man could properly raised the alarm. He pushed past people until he was spat out into the open, nearly trampling a couple of pigeons who calmly strutted away. He heard someone, probably the guy, shout something behind him but he didn’t dare look back and instead broke into a run, darting down one of the alleyways, filled with various posters, that fed into the square. He made a quick right and then another left. Rowan’s heart dropped when he heard footsteps that sounded like they were right behind him, but he kept running. He heard the guy shout for him to stop but he kept going, hoping to lose the guy in the tangle of streets. But the guy stayed right behind him, not even breathing hard, with Rowan gasped for breath as he turned another corner. Unfortunately for Rowan, that corner led to a worn brick wall blocking his path. He heard the guy laughing behind him and turned around to find the guy right in front of him. Rowan hadn’t realized how tall the guy was. The guy seemed to loom over Rowan as Rowan subconsciously shrunk.
He threw the bag back at the guy and backed away, “I’m sorry,” he said, “I won’t do that again.”
Then he closed his eyes and waited for the guy to punish him. The sky opened up and it started raining but Rowan refused to open his eyes as he started getting wet. He was waiting for the kicks and hits to start but when they didn’t, Rowan tentatively opened his eyes. The guy was just standing there, a look on his face that Rowan didn’t recognize.
“Do your parents know that you’re a thief?” the guy asked.
“Don’t have any parents,” Rowan muttered.
“Are you in foster care” the guy asked.
The guy was creeping Rowan out. “Stop asking me invasive questions,” Rowan said. He dropped the bag down on the ground and backed up, “I’m sorry for stealing from you.”
“No, I’m sorry,” the guy replied, “I didn’t mean to be rude.” The guy picked up the bag and held it out to Rowan, “Take it,” he said.
“What?” Rowan asked confused.
“You’ve earned it. There are some granola bars inside,” the guy said. Then he reached up and took the expensive camera off of his neck and laid it on top of the bag, “You should be able to get some money for it,” he said.
With that, the guy turned to go. Rowan watched him go, waiting for him to come back and grab his stuff but he didn’t and the items lay abandoned on the filthy ground. The bag was lying partially in a puddle and Rowan could see the water slowly seep into the bag.
------------------------------------
When the guy didn’t come back, Rowan walked forward and picked up the camera, watching the end of the alleyway cautiously. He examined the camera before shoving it in his backpack. He grabbed the bag by the broken strap before he walked to the end of the alley. He glanced both ways before heading off in the opposite direction of the square. Rowan kept glancing back, waiting for the guy or someone else to come after him but he couldn’t find anyone. Rowan was so busy looking backwards that he walked right into someone. He glanced up and his stomach dropped when he saw who it was.
“There you are,” Julius said, “I’ve been looking all over for you.”
Julius’s two goons loomed over him as they blocked the end of the alley and Rowan’s escape route.
“Leave me alone,” Rowan pleaded.
“I don’t think that I will,” Julius said, “You know the deal.”
“I never agreed to your stupid deal,” Rowan replied, “Now let me leave.”
In response, Julius’s two goons circled around Rowan and Rowan glanced frantically between the three of them, trying to keep an eye on all of them. Rowan pulled the knife out of his pocket and rushed Julius but Julius just grabbed his arm and twisted it, causing Rowan to have to let go of the knife. It clanged loudly on the cobblestone tiles and Julius bent down and examined it.
He picked it up and held it to the light, “Nice knife,” he said.
“Give it back,” Rowan pleaded.
“I don’t think that I will,” Julius replied and his two goons laughed behind Rowan. Julius looked Rowan up and down, “The deal was that you give us your money. Now where is it?”
“I don’t have any money,” Rowan pleaded, trying to hide Vincent’s torn bag behind his back.
“I know for a fact that that is a lie,” Julius replied, “Now hand over the money. I won’t ask again.”
Rowan reached into his bag and pulled out all of the cash that Vincent had given him. He let it fall to the ground, a breeze scattering the bills in the alleyway.
Julius’s two goons gathered up the money. The first goon, a bean-poled, acne plagued teen had to do most of the work chasing around the bills while the second goon, a fat and sweaty kid who had a distinctly pig looking face kept guard over the end of the alleyway. Bean-pole gathered all of the bills and handed them to Julius, who counted them with a satisfied smile. Once he finished counting, he stuck the bills into his pocket.
“Can I go now?” Rowan pleaded.
“I don’t know,” Julius said slowly, “I don’t think that you’ve fulfilled your end of our deal.”
“I gave you my money,” Rowan replied, “What else do you want?”
“What else do I want?” Julius asked slowly.
Before Rowan could react, Pig grabbed his bags and threw them at Julius. Rowan made a move to grab his backpack back but Bean-pole grabbed his arm and twisted, causing Rowan to gasp in pain. Julius glanced up at the gasp of pain but went back to going through Rowan’s and Vincent’s bags. He took out the camera before dumping everything else out into the alleyway and dropping the bags, letting the rain soak into everything.
“You’ve been holding out on me,” he said.
“I promise I just got that today,” Rowan replied, “I was going to give it to you.”
Bean-pole twisted Rowan’s arm harder, causing Rowan to have to drop to his knees, “Lies,” he said.
Pig marched up and kicked Rowan in his chest causing Rowan to grunt in pain, “Yeah,” Pig said, “How dare you lie to Julius.”
“I’m sorry,” Rowan replied.
“Your apologies won’t make it up to him,” Bean-pole spat.
“That’s enough guys,” Julius replied, “He gets the point.”
“No,” Bean-pole replied, “I don’t think that he does.” He kicked Rowan in the arm with what Rowan discovered were steel-toed boots and Rowan screamed in pain.
“Shut up,” Pig replied, “No one’s going to help you.” He grinned sadistically as he kicked Rowan.
Rowan circled up into a ball trying his best to cushion his head and arm against Julius’ goons’ blows. It felt like years later when the blows finally stooped and Rowan’s ears rang in the silence. He heard loud voices and Rowan couldn’t help but try to curl up smaller. He closed his eyes and put his hands over his ears trying his best to drown out the yelling and waited for the blows to start. Rowan heard lightning strike in the distance and that only made him curl up even tighter into a ball. He felt someone grab his arm and he twisted away, trying to get away. Rowan knew that fighting was pointless but no matter how many bruises and cuts he got, he still always fought as hard as he could matter how many bruises and cuts that he got. The person let go of his hand and there was silence again.
Rowan waited for the blows but when they didn’t come he slowly uncurled himself from the ball. He struggled to breath through the pain in his ribs and he tried his best to cushion his arm which was throbbing angrily. He looked up to find Julius standing over him and Rowan could have sworn that Julius looked concerned, though it might have been the dim lighting of the alleyway.
“What do you want?” he asked, “You want more money because I don’t have any more money. In case you forgot, you and your goons took all of my money.”
“I wanted to apologize,” Julius, “My friends took it too far.”
“I don’t want or need an apology from you.” Rowan replied, “Your apology means nothing to me.”
Julius sat down next to Rowan with his back against the wall, ignoring the filthy floor and wall, “Did you know that I was once where you were right now.” Julius asked, “Living alone on the street with no one taking care of me. I had to pickpocket in order to survive and was caught multiple times. Now look at me, stealing from children.”
“I’m not a child,” Rowan complained.
“I’m sorry,” Julius said, “I just mean that I didn’t think that I’d end up here.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick wad of bills, money that Rowan recognized used to belong to Vincent, but the pile was thicker than Rowan remembered, “Just don’t end up like me,” he said, “Get off the street.”
He handed the bills to Rowan before getting up and disappearing. Rowan clutched the bills tightly, too tired to count them. He tried to use the wall to get to his feet but as soon as he shifted, blinding pain erupted over his body and he fell unconscious.
--------------------------------
Rowan awoke to someone shaking him and let out a groan. He heard someone frantically begging him to be alive. He slowly opened his eyes but immediately closed them again when the sunlight hit them. The rain had stopped and the sun had come out while he was unconscious.
“Leave me alone,” he muttered.
“Oh thank goodness, you’re alive,” they said, relief flowing from their voice. “Where are you injured?”
“It hurts,” Rowan moaned as he tried to open his eyes. He saw a shadowy figure standing over him, but he couldn’t make out who they were.
“Okay,” the figure said, glancing frantically around the alleyway, “Wait here. I’m going to get help.”
The figure turned and disappeared, leaving Rowan alone in the alleyway with stuff scattered everywhere.
“Wait,” Rowan called but it was too late. The figure was gone, leaving Rowan alone in the alleyway.
Rowan shifted slightly, attempting to get to his feet but trying to move sent waves of pain spiraling through his body. He lay back on the ground and struggled to breathe through the pain in his chest. Rowan hoped that the figure was actually going to go and get help because Rowan didn’t think that he would be able to get out of the alleyway without help. Rowan shifted with little grunts of pain until he could see the entrance to the alleyway. Finally, Rowan heard hurried footsteps at the end of the alley but his stomach dropped when he saw three figures running towards him. He relaxed as they got closer and his eyes widened in surprise when he saw who they were. The bookstore owner, with the guy who he had stolen from a couple of steps behind him, were running towards him.
The bookstore owner knelt down next to Rowan, “My name is Philip and this is Vincent. I’m here to help you. Now where does it hurt?” Philip asked.
“I can’t breathe,” Rowan gasped, “And it hurts to move.”
“Your ribs might be broken or bruised,” Philip replied. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone, “Just hold on tight. I’m going to call an ambulance. I don’t want to risk moving you if your ribs are broken.”
Rowan reached out and grabbed Philip’s wrist, “Please no.” he begged.
Philip turned back, his brows furrowed, “What do you mean?” he asked.
“I can’t go to the hospital,” Rowan said.
Philip was still confused but he didn’t push it any further. “Okay,” he said, “No hospitals. Can you walk then? I have some medical supplies at the bookstore that I can help you with but I don’t want to leave you here while I get them.”
Rowan tried to get to his feet again. He ignored the waves of pain and slowly stood up. He leaned against the wall, trying to stay upright.
“This isn’t going to work,” Philip replied, noticing how hard it was for Rowan to stay standing.
Vincent squatted in front of Rowan, “Get on,” he said.
“What?” Rowan asked confused.
“I’m giving you a piggyback.” Vincent explained, “Get on.”
Rowan climbed up onto Vincent’s back, using just his right arm to grasp Vincent’s neck as his left arm was hurting too much. Vincent gently carried Rowan out of the alleyway, taking care to not bounce him too much. Vincent led the way down the street until he stood in front of the bookstore and waited for Philip to hold the door open for him before he went inside.
Vincent carried Rowan through the bookstore, behind the counter and into the backroom of the bookstore. Vincent gently set Rowan down on a plush couch that gently swallowed Rowan. A smart fridge and cabinets that hung over a counter were shoved in-between boxes that were stacked against the wall and towered over the group. Some of the stacks of boxes were leaning precariously and looked like they would drop at a small breeze but Philip and Vincent didn’t seem to care about them, or the various stacks of books that had accumulated in the spaces between the boxes.
Vincent hovered anxiously over Rowan as Philip dug through the cabinets until he found the first aid kit. He opened the fridge and dumped a bunch of ice into a bag before handing it to Rowan. Rowan took it gratefully and held it against his arm, trying to find the best spot. Slowly, the pain in his arm got more manageable and Rowan switched the ice pack to his ribs.
“Thank you,” he said.
“For what?” Vincent asked, “Treating you like a human being?”
“For the ice,” Rowan tried to stand but the pain was too great and he collapsed back on the couch.
“What are you doing?” Vincent asked and Rowan could hear the concern in his voice.
“I’m leaving,” Rowan replied, “Thank you for your help but I should probably get going.”
“You’re injured,” Vincent replied, “You probably shouldn’t be going anywhere.”
“Can I talk to you for a moment?” Philip asked Vincent quietly and together, the two of them left Rowan in the backroom and walked to the front.
Philip spoke first, “Who is he?” he asked.
“I don’t know who he is but I know he’s alone on the street,” Vincent said, “He says that he has no parents. We can’t just leave him out there in the cold.”
“I know we can’t just leave him,” Philip replied, “Is he the reason you came here without your things?”
“He tried to steal from me. I let him go. I thought that he deserved the same chances as me. I accidentally ran into him again and found him beaten up,” Vincent replied.
“Okay,” Philip replied, “I know a couple things that we can do for Rowan but it’s going to be up to him in the end. Do you promise to let him make his own decisions?”
“Fine,” Vincent replied. Together the two of them walked back into the backroom and found Rowan waiting for them. He was nervously fidgeting, though he was trying his best to disguise it.
“We don’t want to just send you back on the street injured,” Philip said, “But I need you to answer me honestly so that we can find better options for you. You won’t get in trouble for any of your answers.”
Rowan took a while to think, “Do you promise?” he asked slowly.
“I promise,” Philip replied, “Where are your parents?”
“I don’t have any parents,” Rowan said, “I’ve been in foster care most of my life. I ran away when the family that I was placed at started to hit me. I’ve been living on the street ever since, trying to stay ahead of Social Services.” Rowan closed his eyes and leaned back into the couch, “Please just don’t make me go back.”
“If you don’t want to go back, then I won’t make you,” Philip replied, trying his best to disguise his anger at what had been done to Rowan, “I think that you have two options. One, you could get emancipated. You would be seen as legally an adult and you wouldn’t have to be constantly looking over your shoulder for Social Services. I would be willing to hire you at the bookstore and help you get back on your feet. Option two is that you stay with us. We could foster you until you age out of the system. Again, the choice is up to you, and I’ll try my best to help you in whatever you choose.”
“If I want you to foster me, can I always change my mind later and get emancipated?” Rowan asked.
“Of course,” Philip replied, “Again, it’s all up to you.”
Rowan hesitated. He was really tired of being out on the streets all by himself and having to shoulder the burden of finding food and taking care of himself by himself. He didn’t want to end up like Julius, stealing for the rest of his life. And if Philip turned out to be like the other houses, then he would be able to leave and he wouldn’t be shipped off to other houses.
“Can you foster me?” Rowan asked tentatively.
Vincent looked like he was about to explode, “Yes!” he exclaimed excited. He looked like he wanted to hug Rowan but restrained himself. He started going on about the different snacks he would get Rowan to try but Rowan wasn’t paying attention.
Rowan looked at Philip to gauge his reaction and found him smiling, “Thank you for trusting us,” Philip said, “I think you’ll fit right in.”
Rowan let a shy smile rest on his face. He slowly let himself relax into the couch. Finally, he had a place where he belonged.
