He Left Hell To Be An Angel

The clock read 2:37am when I awoke from my dream. I knew at that moment Ray would not return from his and Casper's attempted heist; he was arrested and I was on my own. As I returned to sleep, back pressed firmly against the wall to protect from attacks, I was shocked by the calmness that replaced my incessant fears and anxiety. Ray had left me alone on the streets many times before, but there was always promise of an eventual return. The only sensible reason I felt peace for the first time in months was the vision in my dream gave promise that he was safe in jail and I did not have to worry any more that night.

Four hours after my God given dream, Casper came through the door alone. My question of Ray's whereabouts was met with indifference; "If he's not back, he probably got caught." They had crashed the jeep they stole and took off on foot. Ray sliced his leg and couldn't get away in time. Without knowing if or when Ray would be back, I knew that I was no longer protected by his presence and reputation on the streets. I was alone, vulnerable and without a hustle. A dealer down the way handed me a butterfly knife, some food and a promise that if I needed him, he would be there. No spring chicken to the scene, I knew that no matter the intention of the heart, promises in Sunnyslope die before they reach the ear.

Sunnyslope, home of the tuberculosis camps in the 1940. This is where they sent people to wait and die in tents. Sixty years later, the oppression of death weighed down on your shoulders as you crossed over in to it's borders. I wasn't a weak person, but I never fully succumbed to the street mentality, and I wasn't about to then. Morals, decency and manners followed me through those days. Ray would become enraged and hurl repulsive accusations because I would thank people, or offer to help, or just make eye contact. Thankfully my ways were innocent to others and they helped me at first. Without a hustle, I was doomed if left to provide on my own. Food, drugs, running water and protection in numbers is what mattered. I didn't sell, run, hook or steal. I had no worth, no purpose after time went on. I felt an explosion on it's way.

The day had come when I made the decision that would leave me abandoned and almost near death. The whispers with my name were eating worm holes through my mind. Looking back, who knows of what I heard was real or hallucination, all I know is threats surrounded me and I didn't know what to do. I was dog sitting late one night for a "couple". Matt used to be a youth pastor, Cindy a mother who walked away from her children. The only people around were Christina and Kenny. The first day I met Christina she attempted to kill me. Had Ray not grabbed the crowbar as my arm came down in a swing, I would have killed the girl who instigated this fatal threat. By this time, however, we were as good as you can be in such a situation. Kenny left to go back to Christina's place and she was to meet him there. For whatever reason, I let her know that he had been trying to get with a prostitute named Jennifer, whose street name was Hollywood. That information led to the scariest night I can recall.

Christina was not one to be messed with on the streets. Her reputation was real, and her threats came with action. What I had told her set off a chain reaction of events. When Jen came back, no matter how much I told Christina she made Kenny back off, this did not matter. Christina grabbed the knife from my hand (I was never without it), and went after Jen. She sliced Jen once before she got away. After that, Christina picked up a hammer and set off down the street, threatening anyone who dare to cross her path. As I sat there, unnerved and without a plan, Kenny, Matt and Cindy all returned at once. Matt was in a crack binge rage and Kenny was beyond what words could describe. They cornered me in the back room, screaming in my face and let me know that the next move was to tie me up, rape me and leave me naked downtown. Their threats were real, as they had held, beat and raped a prostitute named Ashley for five days for a debt.

I ran out of the squatters abode scared and desperate for a safe direction. The only place I knew to go was the family center down the road. They were closed and the parking lot patrolled for trespassers, but I didn't know what else to do. As I headed that way, a woman named Reyna saw me. She remembered me from back before Ray went in and told me to stay along side her. I had no other options and so with her I went. First she took me to the Hells Angels pad, where she introduced me to everyone and they made sure I felt safe. Once she had gotten what she needed, we headed off to do some dumpster diving. I had no idea what she was looking for, but I stood there and gave the illusion that I did. I will say this, because of Reyna, I now know you can strip Christmas lights for copper. Always handy to know these things. As the night wore on, and the days on end of being awake caught up, we hopped over in to the family centers air conditioning unit area and laid down for a quick rest.

As morning came, so did the police and we jetted out just in time. Reyna needed to be on her way and I was once again alone. I wandered Sunnyslope for hours, avoiding any hot spot areas where I might run in to anyone who was after me, or would report back to those same ones. Finally, the heat had beaten me to surrender to the Sunnyslope Family Center to see how they could help. I never wanted to ask anything from anyone because no one was responsible for my life's situation but me. The few belongings I had, however, remained at that pad and I could not walk away from them. I needed to try.

I walked up to the desk and found there is a phone that you can call out on for free. You just have to wait your turn behind every other homeless or downtrodden person in Sunnyslope. I was fine with that, the air conditioning made my problems seem less tense, yet I still watched every person who walked through the doors; sure someone would find me. While I waited my turn, I asked one of the women at the front desk if they could help me. Tears began to well up as I gave a brief description of my situation. The response was quick and sharp, "Call the police." Police involvement would mean sure death, there was no way I could bring them in to this. I walked away broken, but knew I had to still do something. Night time was going to come and I needed to have a plan. When my turn for the phone came, I called my mother, who I had not spoken to in some time. I cried and told her what I was up against. Her response echoed the center worker's. Now I was crushed and angry. I sat at the counter with my head down and tears streaming down my face. While contemplating my next move, I felt someone grab my shoulder; it was Reyna. She pointed to a guy across the room and said that they needed to help me. I told him what happened, and with only a few words spoken to his friend, we were off to retrieve my belongings.

I was nervous about this plan because these two men did not look like much of an intimidation. I need help though, and was not going to turn this offer down. As we walked up the drive-way, I could see that ten to twenty more people had taken residency there. My greatest fear was realized when I saw that Kenny and Matt were there. We made eye contact and I saw the anger rise up in Kenny's eyes. When I watched Kenny's glare move past me and to my company, his demeanor changed immediately as he immediately stepped to the side. One by one, the people in the house backed up and stood in the corners or against the walls. I didn't know what was happening, and I didn't care. All I wanted was to get my things and get out. I was surprised to see that nothing was missing, as the hookers of Sunnyslope had stolen my clothes and shoes last time I was in jail. I picked up my belongings and walked out without incident. No words were spoken by either side; an eerie silence filled the room. I was a little annoyed that only one of the men helped me carry my things, but again, who am I to complain at this point. We got back to the center, and the man who pointed me out to offer his help left without a word.

Elated and confused of what I was going to do next, my thoughts were interrupted by Reyna and the other man's disbelief. "He never does anything like that." Reyna said, "He doesn't get involved in people's business. He even consider other people." She continued on to make fun of the remaining man because he was intimidated by Kenny and Matt, and didn't want to help me until the first guy said so. Who was this first guy? My curiosity was piqued. "Don't you know who that is?" Asked Reyna. Obviously not. "That's 'CS' (name changed). Head of the Hells Angels AB." To this day I have know idea what the AB stands for, but I was surprised by who my escort was. They made sure to make it clear that what just happened is nothing they had ever seen. He saw me at the counter, pointed over and said, "That girl isn't OK. She needs our help." That was it.

Ray was released from jail weeks later, and I proceeded to share the story of survival with him. When I got to the part of naming my hero of the day, he stopped me with amazement in his eyes. "'CS'? Everybody knows him on the inside. He's huge around here. You know he's murdered people, right?" Uh, no. My naive little mind still didn't put that type of credit on people until they actually mention it. I told Ray that he didn't seem the type; how you could see a softness in his eyes. Just as this discussion was in full swing, someone was riding through on a bike in front of us. Ray elbowed me and said, "Hey. There he is." I looked over and what I saw shocked my soul. There was 'CS'. His demeanor was cold, skin weathered and eyes black with death. I chill creeped through me as I realized that God had sent a killer to bring me rescue. A Hells Angel to be my angel.