Gutter punk turned housecat Shake is on the hunt for her MIA friend Rusho, a man who was once guardian angel for runaway kids who has fallen from grace. She not only has to navigate the chaotic gutter punk landscape, but also has to struggle through the disdain of many of her tribe in her quest to find and help her friend.

This story is featured in my collection of short stories entitled Short Songs, featuring characters from The Rise and Fall of Skye Wright series.

     It was strange because it was strange and it should not have been strange at all.
     Shake felt out of place, and she found the whole concept as unsettling as it was bizarre.
     It had been quite some time since she moved into an apartment, an apartment with her friend Gust, the one that her rock star friend Skye Wright was renting.
     She glanced at a homeless man who was shambling along the street in his gray clothes, clutching multiple shopping bags, his face mostly hidden by clumps of matted hair. He shot her a look and Shake looked away when she realized it was no one she knew.
     Skye was letting Shake live in her second apartment in exchange for watching her place as well as her cats and dogs when she was at work and especially when she was on tour. It was one of the best gigs she ever had, to live in a nice place in exchange for what she would barely call work.
     She would refer to Skye as a “rock star” only facetiously. Skye was not truly a rock star in the mainstream sense. She was only well known in certain circles. But Skye’s band the Dynamite Chicks had been doing so well that Skye had managed to buy Butt Fork studios and its corresponding record label, which kept Skye quite busy, which kept Shake busy.
     Her trip to her old homeless stomping grounds was prompted by an email from her fellow gutter punk turned indoor cat and former Menschen Park resident Trilly, who let her know that Rusho, a mutual gutter punk friend, was trying to get his life together, despite his controversial state of mind.
     She could not stop thinking about her homeless mentor Rusho, the man who showed her the ropes of living on the street when she was a fresh teenage runaway. He not only schooled her on finding shelter, finding food, squat living, and avoiding cops, but he mentored just about everyone who showed up at the park, every fresh face who was trying to find refuge, almost always people who had run away from hellish family life, as she had.
     She was approaching the corner 7-11, meaning she had to keep an eye out for her friends, or at least people she recognized. Shake ran through her mental list of friends and familiars, such as Rare, Chicken Joe, Judy the park scene queen, Gumbutter the gentle giant, or the members of her short lived gutter punk gang The Sidewalk Sackers, the mob that had been organized by Trilly. If she ran into anyone, she hoped she could find Sally Salt, or Rhonda Road Rage, or Sheena Shill. They were the gutter punks who knew the scene, and knew what was going on. They were the ones who were the most likely to help her find Rusho.
     If they were still on the street, that is.
     Passing by the 7-11, she glanced at a group of shaggy looking young men and quickly looked away when she did not recognize any of them. She kept reminding herself that Trilly was no longer on the streets either, Skye having found her a place in San Francisco after she hired Trilly to be a music scout.
     Her heart ached when she let herself experience that glimmer of hope, that she would find Rusho.
     But she knew that was too far-fetched of a possibility.
     Nevertheless, she was going to try.
     She was on her way to Menschen Park, the transient enclave where she spent quite a bit of time when she was homeless. Technically it had not been that long since she had gotten off of the streets, but she knew all too well how quickly things could change. One police raid of the park could have scattered all of her friends all over the place, compelling or forcing them to seek other homeless enclaves. They could have even been forced to find refuge in other cities if it got bad enough.
     She did not have to wait until she got to the park. She found her friend Quinn around the corner from Menschen Park, instantly recognizing her short and wide frame dressed in army surplus clothes, walking her small brown and red chicken. “What the fuck Quinn!”
     “Hey Shake!” smiled Quinn as she picked up her chicken. “I ain’t seen you aroun’ in a while.”
     “Well, I’m actually indoors now.”
     “No kiddin’?” said Quinn whose face turned into one big Chesire cat-like grin as her long and wild bangs hid most of her face. “You gotta tell me that story. How the fuck can you afford rent?”
     “Can I get ya’ a slice a pizza and a soda?” asked Shake.
     “Yeah, sure, if it ain’t putin’ you out.”
     “Hell naw. Why would it put me out?”
     “I knows that if you indoors you must be countin’ every goddamn penny to stay there.”
     Shake and Quinn went to the pizza stand where Quinn waved her small red chicken at the angry manager telling her to keep her animal out of his store.
     Shake came out with a couple of slices and they sat on the sidewalk next to a jewelry stand.
     “Thanks for the food,” said Quinn as she fed bits of crust to her chicken. “This glob a’ dough will hold me for the day.”
     “No prob.”
     “Tell me what the hell you’re doin’ inside. Wha’d ya do, rob a bank?”
     “Naw. My friend Skye gave me an’ Gust a place to live.”
     Quinn sat up, her wide eyes looking at shake through her drooping bangs. “You mean Skye Wright? The Dynamite lady?”
     “Yeah.”
     “Holy fuck. You know her?”
     “Yeah I do. I’ve known her for years. You do too!”
     Quinn’s eyes rolled around behind her hair. “I do?”
     “Fuck yeah. You run into her all the time at Gilman.”
     “Oh. Well, I’m almost always trashed when I go there, so I don’t usually remember much.”
     A couple of passing punks yarked at Quinn, offering her some friendly heckles as they passed by. Shake was somewhat embarrassed that she did not recognize them.
     Shake crossed her legs and folded her hands after she finished off her pizza. “I don’t suppose you seen Rusho around lately, have you?”
     “Rusho? Why? He owe you money?”
     “Naw. He don’t owe me no money.”
     “Then you’re lucky,” said Quinn as she waded up a napkin and threw across the sidewalk into a trash can as if she were throwing a basketball.
     “How am I lucky? He owe you?”
     “He owes everybody,” said Quinn with a sneer. “That fucker done got what he could from jus’ about everyone.”
     “Yeah, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” said Shake as she felt her heart sink.
     “Why you wanna find him for then?”
     Shake gave up an exaggerated shrug. “I heard from Trilly. I know he’s down on his luck. I just wanted to see if I could help out, maybe get him some help.”
     “Man, don’t get anywhere near that piece a’ shit. He’s sunk so low ain’t nobody need to deal with him.”
     “Fuck, I used to get high too.”
     Quinn shot Shake a look. “No shit? You mean like th’ real deal, right? Not jus’ smokin’?”
     Shake winced at Quinn. “You already knew that you dumb fucker!”
     “Sure I did.”
     “Anyways, I need to find Rusho.”
     Quinn shook her head. “No you don’t. Stay away from that guy.”
     “How the hell can you say that?” asked Shake as Quinn’s chicken walked up to her to peck away at her leftover pizza crust.
     “Nobody talks to him no more. No one calls him or texts him or nuthin’. You shouldn’t either.”
     Shake could only scowl at Quinn who looked back at her with a sneer.
     “You gotta give me somethin’,” said Shake. “Some lead or something! I don’t care if anyone thinks I shouldn’t be talkin’ to him.”
     “I’m tellin’ ya, keep away from that guy. Like what’s up? You gotta crush on him or somethin’?”
     “Fuck no. He’s my friend. I’ve known him like, forever. He’s helped me and you and dozens of others countless times. You know that.”
     “Sounds to me like you’re thinkin’ with your clit.”
     Shake got to her feet. “Fuck you Quinn. That’s the last time I buy you lunch!”
     Shake turned on her feet and started to walk away.
     “Hey!” said Quinn as she grabbed her chicken and stood up. “Okay, for the pizza I’ll tellya this much. Aces is the only person I know who might have a handle on where to find him or get in touch with him.”
     Shake turned to Quinn. “Fuckin’ a’. I ain’t seen Aces in ages.”
     “She lives in a new squat. She’s keepin’ her new place on the under, but I know she won’t mind if you show up.”
     “You know where it’s at?”

     Shake walked around to the side of the West Berkeley house located in the middle of the industrial section of town. Chain link fences blocked both sides of the dilapidated house with its boarded up windows and blocked-off front door. The fences blocked off access to the backyard. She went to the left side of the house and looked around the metal fence, pushing on it at several points before going to the right side of the house. Pushing on the links of that fence, she felt it give way at its base where it had separated from the ground beam. She was able to push the links far enough apart to squeeze through and find herself in the backyard.
     Shake walked slowly and cautiously as the grass was tall enough to hide potentially hazardous objects such as broken glass or rusty nails. Looking around the back of the house, the second floor windows were blocked off by some sort of off-brown material, either paper or wood, or possibly the ugliest curtains she had ever seen.
     She looked under the crumbling deck and found a rusty looking back door that looked as if it had been years since it was opened. The windows were so dingy she doubted she would be able to see inside even if they didn’t have coverings.
     Shake contemplated the idea that she had the wrong place as she ran her eyes around the back of the house. She also considered that she had the right place, but the residents may have already abandoned the place.
     Then she spotted a conspicuous plain board into a corner of the back wall, a dingy plywood board.
     That’s when she knew.
     She walked up to the back of the house and knocked on the window frame two times and then paused. She knocked three more times.
     She could not hear any movement, and she could not see anyone through the windows, but she knew she was being watched.
     “Well, we tried to keep the riff-raff out, but obviously that ain’t happenin!”
     Shake walked out from under the deck and looked up to see the twisted blue locks of Aces, sticking her head out of what appeared to be a small bathroom window.
     “What the fuck homefry!” greeted Shake. “What be up.”
     “Stay there. I’ll let you in.”
     Aces disappeared back into the house. Shake waited patiently as the house stood still and silent.
     Suddenly a large scraping noise came from the basement. At the corner of the house, the piece of wood that Shake had suspected was the entrance popped out, creating a short and wide gap into the basement.
     Shake had to duck to get into the basement. Aces quickly shut the board behind her and walked ahead of Shake, almost tip-toeing as if near silence was essential.
     They walked through an empty workroom with old and rusting paint cans of various sizes and all manner of random metal scraps. The place was so old and dilapidated it looked as if the whole room was rusting.
     Aces led her down a very short hallway into a brightly lit white room,illuminated by a large ceiling light. Twin mattresses were on either side of the room. Clothes were neatly stored in milk crates and a boombox plugged into the wall.
     A short, doe-eyed young woman was sitting on one of the mattresses. She was bundled up in thick winter-type clothes, her eyes looking out from under a wool cap.
     “That’s Sorty,” said Aces. “She’s my cousin from up North.”
     “Hey Shorty.”
     “Sorty. Like as in, sorting stuff,” corrected Aces.
     “Whups. My bad.”
     Sorty did not say anything as she sat motionless.
     Aces flopped down onto the other mattress and hit the top of her bedding it to let Shake know she should sit down next to her.
     “What the fuck Shake? Howdja find me?”
     “Hey now, no one’s rattin’ you out,” said Shake as she sat down.
     Aces waved a hand at her. “No one ratted me out. It’s fine if they told you where I was. You’re one a’ us!”
     “I live in an actual apartment now.”
     “With Gust. Rented out by the dynamite lady.”
     Shake looked at her with surprise. “You know about that?”
     “Of course I fuckin’ do! I know everythin’ that goes on in this town. Remember?”
     “Right.”
     They spent the next few minutes catching up with Shake describing her new living situation before they talked about their mutual friends and what they were up to.
     The entire time Sorty sat, rigid and unmoving, staring blankly at Shake as if she was an intruder or some sort of interesting anomaly. Shake was not unnerved by Sorty’s stare, a stolid and cold gaze that would make most other people squirm after a few minutes. She had been around enough weirdos and eccentrics during her street life that it would take something much more extreme to shake her.
     “So, I was wondering about one old friend of ours,” said Shake as she clasped her hands,
     “Who’s that? We’ve talked about almost everyone who isn’t dead or missing.”
     “Rusho is missing.”
     Aces sat straightened her back and shot a look st Shake. “Rusho? That fucking wastoid?”
     It was Shake’s turn to shoot a look at Aces. “Hey, that wastoid is a friend of ours.”
     Aces held up her hands. “I’m not sayin’ he wasn’t a friend, but he really fell off the deep end.”
     “I know. That’s why I wanna find him.”
     “You really wanna find Rusho?”
     “Yeah. Why not?”
     Aces shifted around, looking uncomfortable. “He’s hittin’ that junk really fuckin’ hard. I don’t think bein’ aroun’ him is a good idea.”
     “Why?”
     “He’s a fuckin’drug addict!”
     “So? So am I.”
     Aces folded her arms. “No you’re not. All you do is drink.”
     “I used to hit junk. I used to get pinned.”
     “Really?” said Aces with widening eyes. “I had no idea. You just don’t seem the type.”
     “I don’t? Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?”
     “Well you said you didn’t get caught up in it.” Aces got to her feet, standing straight and looking down at Shake. “I still don’t know why you want to get in touch with him. He’s a fucked up wastoid. He’ll just take advantage of you. He’ll drag you down with him. You need to avoid him.”
     Shake crossed her legs and arms and looked up at Aces. “All I know is he said he wanted to try an’ get clean, to get himself correct again. I know that when he relapsed he broke everyone’s hearts, especially since he relapsed hella hard, goin’ all the way back to the junk. I know, because he broke my heart too. Now, I ain’t no fuckin’ twelve stepper. I don’t do them anonymous meetings, but a lot of my friends do. He said he wants to try again, an’ everyone and their sister are tellin’ me I need to avoid him, to stay away from him, an’ not even try and get in touch with him. It ain’t enough that everyone’s shunning him and makin’ him a pariah, they want me to do it too. An’ they ain’t’ askin’. They’re practically yellin’ at me to leave him be. But what kind a’ friend would I be if I didn’t at least check up on him when he reached out? What would it say about me if I didn’t give an old friend the benefit of a doubt? Maybe I can’t help him, not as much as I want to, but I can hook him up with one a’ my twelve stepping friends like Lee, or Skye, or maybe Preston if he don’t wanna deal with any a’ them devil girls. If you ask me, everyone’s takin’ it too personally. It’s not that they’re worried about me, they just don’t want me or anyone else helpin’ him, because he let everyone down. Well fuck that. I’m going to find him, and I’m gonna help him out if I can.” Shake stood up leaned towards Aces with her hands to her side, almost as if she was getting ready to strike. “So you gonna help me find him or not?”
     Aces got a decidedly sour look on her face. She kept her arms tightly crossed as she looked at the floor. “I don’t even know where to look.” She looked right at Shake. “And even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. Stay away from him.”
     Shake stood up and leaned towards Aces as she formed her fists. “Hey Aces, fuck you. You’re a fuckin’ shitty excuse for a friend!”
     Shake turned and walked towards the exit. Shake knew Aces was only following her so she could quickly put the board back up, making sure everything was shut so the house would not be given away as a squat.
     Shake didn’t turn to look at Aces as she left. She knew she would not be able to contain her temper if she did.
     Shake crawled out of the opening and the slab of wood clunked into place right behind her. Walking down the side of the house and squeezing through the gap in the chain link fence, she saw someone standing in front of the house.
     It was Sorty. She was standing by the gate with her wool cap pulled down over her eyes. Shake walked up to her.
     “Last I heards Rusho was at the Broomsticks house.”
     “No fuckin’ way!” blurted Shake, still trying to calm her frothing temper.
     “I heards she got Skewy to let him crash in their basement. Like, Skewy didn’t know about him an’ his epic fuckin’ up. I mean, at least, she knew he was gettin’ high but she didn’t know how bad.”
     Shake’s mind started churning, trying to decide if she believed Sorty or not.
     “He could be long fuckin’ gone by now though,” said Sorty, who lowered her head, looking almost guilty.
     “You know Rusho?”
     “Yeah, but I ain’t talked to him in years. I do know Juliet from the Broomsticks. I jus’ heard from her that Skewy gots him in the basement, that he went there to try an’ dry out.”
     “No shit? You know how long ago that was?”
     Sorty shrugged. “At least three weeks ago is when I heards. Who knows if he’s still there or not. I mean, I kinda doubt it, but who knows?”
     “Thanks.”
     Sorty turned and started back to the house.
     “Hey!” called out Shake. Sorty stopped and turned around. “Why you helpin’ me? Ain’t Aces gonna get mad?”
     Sorty pushed up her cap to reveal her eyes. “Rusho fuckin’ saved my life. Go help him.” Sorty let her cap fall over her eyes again. “Please.”
     Shake stood in place as Sorty turned and disappeared down the side of the house. She looked around, putting her hands on her hips, still seething over what Aces had said.
     She was still seething over what all of them had said. All of Rusho’s friends.
     Shake looked back at the house. She knew Aces had her eyes on her, and that she was no doubt grinding her teeth as Shake stood in front of their squat since having anyone out in front of what was supposed to be an abandoned building increased the chances of their place being found out, of having the police come by and rake everyone out.
     Shake also knew that Aces would not come out, because that would make the place even more conspicuous, so she would just suffer in silence.
     Shake hoisted her backpack and started the walk to the Broomsticks house.
     A cold wind rushed through her as the streets grew dark. The Broomsticks house was a few miles away.
     She needed to find Rusho.