Rich Homeless Broken But Beautiful Read online

  "I love college life Linda and plus Jack goes to the same school, you know." Jack was her boyfriend, and they were planning to get married after they graduated.

  "Good for you, Veronica. I'm really proud of you, you know, and so is Mom." Linda couldn't help but think about the time not so long ago that she had gone off to school, full of hope and love for Richard. It all seemed so far away now.

  "It would be nice if you came for Christmas this year, Linda," her younger sister, Dawn, suggested. "I mean, we could all be together again, like old times, you know." Dawn was two years younger than Veronica, and she worked full-time as a personal assistant. She could have quit her job and put herself through college, as Linda had given each one of them five hundred thousand dollars. But she kept her job because she said she liked it, but mostly because she couldn't bear the thought of leaving Keifer, her boyfriend, to go off to college.

  "Keifer would love to meet you, Linda," Dawn insisted. "It would be great. Promise me you'll think about it."

  "I will, Dawn, I promise, okay? And I'd love to meet Kiefer too." As the day passed, Linda felt more and more at ease with her sisters, and it felt good being around them.

  Soon it was time to see the newlyweds off. They were leaving for their honeymoon, and everyone was kissing them and wishing them the best. Linda went up to Peggy and hugged her.

  "Good-bye Peggy, my Peggy. Have a wonderful honeymoon. I'm going to miss you, you know."

  "Me too, Linda, I'll miss you too," Linda's head was rested on Peggy's shoulder; she drew back, holding Peggy by the waist and looking at her intently. So much had passed between them, and now they were going their separate ways. If Peggy could have seen Linda's face behind her veil, she would have seen the tears that rolled down her cheeks.

  "Oh, I almost forgot." Linda reached into her purse and pulled out an envelope and handed it to Peggy.

  "This is for you, Peggy, for you and Terrance, of course." Terrance was looking at them smiling.

  "But Linda," Peggy began to protest; Linda forced the envelope into her hand and closed Peggy's hand on it.

  "Look, Peggy, you deserve everything that is happening to you, okay? Just be happy, please. Do it for me, will you? You're my best friend, Peggy, and I love you and I'm really happy for you." Linda let go of Peggy's hand.

  "I love you too, Linda, and I'll always be there for you, no matter what. You can count on that."

  "I know, Peggy, I know." The girls hugged again, and then Terrance took Peggy's hand and pulled her away toward the waiting limo. Confetti and cheers filled the air as the newlyweds drove away. It was only later that night when they had arrived at their hotel that Peggy opened Linda's envelope. Inside the best wishes card was a check for half a million dollars" Peggy stared at the check in disbelief and had a long, hard cry.

  "Shall we be going, miss?" Charles had been close by all the time.

  "Yes, Charles. I will say good-bye to my family, and then we will go."

  "Fine, miss." He followed a few steps behind her as Linda went off to say good-bye to her mother and sisters. Her family was booked at a hotel near the airport; they were flying early the next morning, and it had been decided that they would say their good-byes after the wedding.

  Her sisters got all choked up and cried, and Linda hugged them and assured them that she would be fine and that she would keep in touch.

  "You make sure you phone me, Linda. I want to know how you're doing, okay?" Her mother couldn't help being overprotective.

  "Yes, Mom, I'll call you often, I promise, okay?" Linda took her mother in her arms and gave her a warm hug. Slowly her mother disengaged herself from her arms and asked,"So, Linda, when are you leaving, and if I may ask, where you are going first?"

  "I'm leaving in a week Mom and I'm heading south." Her mother looked at her perplexed, but she knew better than to ask for more details. Had she done so, none would have been forthcoming.

  Chapter 3

  WANDERINGS

  So began a new chapter of Linda Staunton's young life. The following week was spent cleaning out her apartment. All that she kept fit into four pieces of luggage. It was a wonderful summer morning when Charles came to pick her up; the apartment was empty except for her suitcases and some boxes that would be picked up later that day by a local charity.

  "Good morning, miss, how are you today?"

  "Good morning, Charles. I'm fine, thank you, and you?"

  "Couldn't be better, thank you, shall I load the luggage?"

  "Yes, please, thank you." Charles picked up some suitcases and headed toward the car outside. Linda stood for a few moments in the empty apartment, looking about; nearly three years had gone by since she had moved in with Peggy. It seemed all so long ago now. Many memories, good and bad, would be left behind forever. They had been years that had altered her life forever. The very integrity of her being had been fractured by fate, and she should by all accounts have been dead. Yet, here she was, mutilated but still standing and deformed but still alive. Buried deep within her heart and soul she felt strong, stronger than she had ever felt before in her life. Her whole being was possessed by an uncommon desire to live and to fight for her morsel of happiness. Linda knew it would be a tough fight and that many challenges lay ahead of her, but she was ready and was inspired by the certitude that she alone could save herself. She took one last glance around the room and walked out.

  Linda sank into the luxurious upholstering of the back seat of the limo; the car was perfect and was exactly what she needed. Charles had organized it well. There was a small television and a sound system and a table that Linda could pull out and set up her laptop on. There even was a small fridge tucked into a corner. She took a deep breath beneath her veil. She felt liberated, and a current of nervous trepidation ran through her body.

  Charles turned around toward her.

  "So, where to, miss?" She had not told him where they were heading.

  "South, Charles, let's go south, shall we?" Linda's voice was filled with anticipation. He smiled at her.

  "Okay, miss, south it shall be," he turned around and set the car in motion. They were on their way.

  Linda loved the road, and although she felt the presence of people all around her on the roads or at the road stops, she felt protected inside her limo, her intimacy intact. Within a few days, Charles and Linda had developed a routine. He would tell her where they would be at about six the next evening, and Linda would find a hotel or motel on the Internet that was near where they were heading. Charles always went to get the food or pay for the gas at the road stops; Linda would eat in the car, and if she needed to use the washroom, Charles would fetch the key and then drive her as close as possible to the door. He took care of everything and was extremely meticulous to preserve her privacy and make sure that she was comfortable at all times. At night Linda would eat alone in her room, or if there was no room service, at the nearest restaurant. Charles would always prepare her arrival in any dining area, making sure she had a table in a corner by herself and as far away as possible from prying eyes. He would also always brief the waiter or waitress who would be serving Linda, asking him or her not to stare and to act normal with her. When he felt that everything was ready, he would go and get her and accompany her to her table. Linda would always bring along a book or a magazine to read while she ate. Linda had offered many times to Charles to eat with her, but he had declined, insisting that his professional role of conduct did not permit him to do that. She was his boss, and he was at her service. He believed that it was inappropriate for him to eat with her, especially in public. Linda had been amused by that, but she had said that she understood and respected his professionalism. Charles was never far off while she ate, and he could be quickly by her side should she need anything. When she was done, he would accompany her back to her room. Linda was impressed with him. He had learned very quickly the kind of attention and support she needed, and he gave it to her, sometimes before she even knew she needed it. She thought he was simp
ly amazing and couldn't believe the luck she had had in finding him. Every new day his impeccable consistency and thoroughness confirmed to her that he was truly a God send.

  "So, Miss Linda, tell me, do we have a destination this morning?" Charles's question was part of their morning ritual before they hit the road.

  "Yes, as a matter of fact, Charles, we do."

  "Would you mind sharing that information with me, miss? Not that I need to know. We could always just go wherever the car takes us."

  "No, I don't mind sharing at all, Charles, and I promise you this-I'll tell you as soon as I know, okay?" Charles broke out laughing; he had a rich, healthy laugh.

  "Okay, miss, fine, you do that now. You know you have a keen sense of humor, miss."

  "Thank you, Charles, and so do you." Linda looked up from her computer and stared out the car window. "Just drive toward the Interstate, will you, Charles? I'll tell you which direction we'll take when we get there."

  "Okay, then, we're on our way."

  So went the extraordinary voyage of the most unlikely pair of individuals that had ever hit the road. Anywhere they stopped on the road they attracted glances and stares. The car itself was a curiosity. It was long, black, and foreign, but it was the curtains installed all around the back windows that really attracted attention. Charles had put them in so that Linda could isolate herself from the sun or from prying eyes. When they were all closed, she could take a nap if she so desired. Anytime the black limo pulled up off the highway with the curtains drawn, it raised eyebrows and piqued people's imaginations. Then, when Charles got out of the car, tall, impeccably dressed in suit and tie, and with his chauffeur's cap on; well, that was simply the clincher. People would openly gawk at him and speculate wildly amongst themselves about who was in the car. Charles's phlegmatic demeanor and British accent added to the mystique and the mystery. Linda was amused by the effect they had on people. She was glad to be a part of something that fueled their conversations and their imaginations.

  At first they went south, then west, crisscrossing the country at a nice, slow pace; after all, Linda was not in a hurry, and she had no set schedule or plan. Her tolerance to the travails of the road was about a month, so their pattern was pretty much built around that. They would travel the countryside for three or four weeks, and then they would stop in a large city for one, two, or three months. During the longer stays Linda would sometimes have some reconstructive work done on her mouth and face. Then it was back on the road again. In the cities they would always stay in the most expensive and comfortable hotels. For years this was their modus vivendi and their game plan.

  Their routine in the cities was well regulated. Charles would check in with Linda every morning at nine to see if she needed him for anything. Sometimes she had him run some small errands for her, but most of the time he was off for the day. At the end of the day, he would check in with her again at six.

  Linda stayed in her suite a lot and read and watched television. Every day she would go out for a walk, always with her scarf, hat, veil, and gloves. It was during those walks over the years that Linda had noticed that the only people who paid no or little attention to her were the homeless and the vagrants and the people who lived on the street. They were the only ones in every city she had been in who did not look at her as an oddity or a freak. This made her curious about them, and one day she decided to explore their world and find out more about them. So, she visited the parks and streets where they hung out and spent a lot of time observing them. She talked to all the ones who approached her for money or for cigarettes and had come to the conclusion that the best way to know more about them was to become one of them. So, she developed a routine to do just that.

  Her routine was simple. Once Charles had checked in on her and was gone for the day, she would get dressed and get ready to go out. When she was ready, she would take her cane and a used leather bag and leave her suite at a brisk pace. She could walk quite fast with her cane now, and her eye was well adjusted to the veil, and she had practically no more fears about going out in public. The hotel lobby was busy, as all hotel lobbies will be in the morning. Linda headed for the main entrance, and a doorman tipped his hat to her and smiled as she passed.

  "Good morning, miss, how are you today?"

  "Fine, thank you." Linda replied hastily, eager to be on her way. It irritated her how everyone was so overly polite in expensive hotels.

  She walked a few streets from the hotel and got into a cab and asked to be dropped off at the train station. Inside the station she headed for the restrooms. When she came out, she had become another person. She had abandoned her fine, expensive clothes for tattered, misfit ones. Her coat was torn in a few places, and it had buttons missing. It was too large for her and fell to within inches of the floor. On her head she wore a used black tuque that she had pulled down over her ears. Her eyes were hidden by a large pair of dark sunglasses that had probably been in style long before she was born. A dirty piece of white tape held the sunglasses together at the bridge. She wore a faded gray plaited shirt, black baggy pants, and a rundown pair of sports shoes. Her face, thus partially revealed, was a gruesome and scary sight to behold. People looked at her in shock when she passed by them, and they got out of her path. Linda was oblivious to their reactions as she headed toward the locker area; she rented a locker and stuffed her leather bag inside. She slowly made her way toward the street, very aware of the reaction of the people she crossed. Their shocked gazes and their unfeigned expressions of disgust spoke eloquently of their coldness and their shallowness. Not one of them seemed to have an afterthought about how she had gotten that way. To them she was a homeless, disfigured cripple and a pariah, and they sidestepped her with disdain and haste.

  She ignored them as she made her way toward a shelter near skid row. She had grown used to the meanness and insensitivity of people. It was the way of the world, and it did not hurt her to be treated thus. The only sentiment that it raised in her was pity-pity not for herself, but for the people who looked at the exterior of a human being and drew definitive conclusions from what they saw.

  Today, however, Linda couldn't have cared less about all that. She was on her way to see Red, her friend, and the thought of him made her smile. Red was a homeless person and an alcoholic. He had fried so many of his brain cells with bad alcohol that he could not even remember where he was from originally. He told Linda that for as far as he could remember, he had always been homeless. "Hell, Linda, I swear, I was born this way." Red's ideas and recollections might have been confused, but his heart wasn't. He had a good heart. Red and Linda had become friends. They had met at the shelter a number of years before, and Linda always spent time with him whenever she came to the city. She loved him and would see him as often as she could when she was around. They drank coffee and played chess together at the shelter as they waited for the free lunch to be served at noon. He was a good man, Red, as fine a man as Linda had ever met in her other life.

  "Hi, Red," Linda shuffled into the first floor cafeteria where he was sitting with a coffee in front of him, staring blankly ahead. Red was a sight to behold; his head was bald except for a stray hair or two, and his nose was round and very red. All of his face was covered with busted veins and was potholed and had a very burgundy and unhealthy taint to it. He had enormous drooping bags under his permanently bloodshot eyes and was missing his two front teeth. As for the remaining ones, they were of various shades of an unsavory yellow or green. He had a three-or-four day-old gray stubble and only shaved when the shelter or someone gave him a razor and some shaving cream. His nose was definitely his most prominent characteristic, though, because of its size and its redness. That's how he had gotten his name. His fellow companions of vagrancy and alcohol, whose sense of a propos could certainly not be challenged, had baptized him thus, and the name had stuck. Red had told Linda that he couldn't even remember his real name and that it had been so long since anyone had called him by it, that if someone did, he probably
wouldn't even know that they were talking to him.

  "Hey, Linda," Red snapped out of his reverie. "What's up? You been up to no good again, eh?" He smiled, showing the gap made by the absence of his two front teeth.

  "Yeah, plenty of no good Red, what about you?" Linda sat in front of him; she took her sunglasses off and put her cane to one side. It didn't bother her to be uncovered here. She felt safe, and nobody seemed to care much. Red was oblivious to that. He had long passed the point in his life experience when such things mattered. For him, to take into consideration someone's exterior appearance was an absurdity. What mattered to him was the heart and soul of a person, nothing else. He found it hard to find people who had a good heart and soul, but he knew that Linda was one of them. He couldn't have cared less about her crushed face, burnt skin, and artificial eye. When she talked to him, it was straight from the heart, and that was the only language he understood. As he would often say, "My brain may be fried, but my heart ain't."

  "Oh not much, the usual, you know. I've been walkin' about a bit, keepin' out of people's way, mindin' my own business and all. Just, Gerry, though. I think he's onto me again. I'm pretty sure I saw him yesterday near the corner of 21st and Main, but my eyes ain't so good no more, so I'm not really sure." Gerry was Red's dead drinking buddy who'd been killed in a hit and run five years earlier. Red was convinced that Gerry followed him around and meant him no good. It was true that Red's eyesight was bad, but it was also true that Gerry was dead. Linda was convinced that Red's sightings of Gerry were his way of keeping him alive, probably because he missed him.

  "You need glasses, Red. Gerry isn't around, you know that. Why don't you ask social services for a pair?" He made a gesture of refusal with his hands and face.

  "To hell with them, Linda, I don't trust those people, none of them. Plus, they ask me all kinds of questions-names, numbers, address, I don't remember any of it. I hate papers, and I hate even more people who fill them out. So no, no glasses for Red. Anyway, I still see okay by me, to hell with that." Red fidgeted about in his seat, looking from left to right. The subject of being helped always upset him.