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The McLaughlin Chronicles: A Kid called Jason

© Marcus Traynor

That night, when McLaughlin left his apartment for work, he was dressed more warmly than usual. He was more than an hour and a half earlier than he needed to be, but he had his reasons. He took to the back alleys. He hoped he would get lucky tonight. Not too far off, the darkly clad man was also on the move too. Like McLaughlin he was also hoping to get lucky. Both men took to the back alleys.

About a half an hour later, Jen slammed the snooze switch on her alarm. She pried her eyes open to get a look at the time. She was late! It would take at least a half an hour to get ready for work. She bolted out of her bed and raced for the shower.

Somewhere along the alleys, Jason rested near a fire he had going for some time now. He wanted the warmth. The clothing he had was too thin for this weather. Around the corner, moving without a sound, the darkly clad man observed the camp and ducked back to make a few notes.

McLaughlin was around the same area. He moved with a good pace, he wasn’t in any particular hurry, but he saw no reason to walk slowly either. He almost passed the campsite. “Hey, Jason!” he announced, making the darkly clad man go deeper into the shadows. McLaughlin walked over, pulled his gloves off and held his hands over the flame. “Staying warm?” he asked before taking a good look.

The boy was shivering. “Trying,” he said, giving a weak smile. He did not look all that good. McLaughlin something noticed something weird, out of place. His face looked out of place, but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was.

“Here,” McLaughlin said, unbuttoning his coat. “Take this…”

“Oh, no,” the boy held up his hand. “Thank you, sir, but no. You’re far to kind to me as it is. I’m sure I’ll never be able to repay you.”

“Oh, don’t be silly,” McLaughlin replied. “If the situation were reversed, you’d do the same.”

“Seriously, sir. No. It’s not really the cold. I get like this at the night, you-know,” he said with a weak smile. “It’ll pass. It always does. Thank you anyway.”

“Look,” McLaughlin said, buttoning his coat back up. “How are you doing for money? Are you going to be able to eat tomorrow?”

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