The Old Tuck Shop

THIRTY-THREE

I made my way back to Cal's with my heart in my hand. I thought about what Poppy's brother, Reuben had said about me, his comments about me being homeless. Sure, I can't be mad at him because everything he said was true. I mean, without Cal I would've been completely lost, and living as he described. If it wasn't for Cal, I would've been sleeping in a cardboard box, and begging harder, and harder for money. If anything, Reuben opened my eyes to how lucky I am.

Even if Cal already knew how grateful I was of him, I needed to let him know again. I wondered if I had taken him for granted all this time, and I hoped he never saw it like that. In all honesty, he's the only person who's ever taken care of me so well. Apart from Agatha and Mabel, I only had Cal left to thank.

I walked through the front door, spotted Cal wiping the counters, and hugged him.

"Eh? Is everything alright?" he asked, rubbing my back.

"I just never really said thank you for letting me stay here," I answered, wanting to cry.

"Don't be stupid. I know you appreciate it... and I appreciate you, young man. I haven't had company in here for ages. You bring a young spirit to the shop."

I chuckled. "No, genuinely. Thank you so much. You don't understand how much I appreciate you, and everything."

"I know. I know." He patted me on the back. "How about you help me finish locking up, and we'll go inside and have a nice hot chocolate, eh?"

"That would be nice," I replied, grabbing the keys for the front door.

"So... what's going on with you and?...." he asked. "Sorry. I've forgotten her name."

"Poppy?" I asked. My fingers were shaking trying to lock the door.

"That's the one. Pretty name."

I smiled to myself, then shook my head. "Nothing is going on between us. We're..." I sighed. "We're just friends."

"I don't believe it. She looks at you like your the love of her life," he said, nodding his head.

I rolled my eyes. "I've only known her for a few days."

"Roll your eyes all you want, but she's in love with you."

"That's so wrong," I said.

"Anyway... it doesn't matter how I feel... because she likes someone else. Sucks. But it happens," I added, throwing my arms in the air.

He put his rag down and looked at me. "What does this boy that she supposedly likes have, but you don't?"

"Hmm... I don't know... I wonder what the privileged, successful guy has against the homeless guy?... Money? A house? Education? That's a really hard one, Cal," I said, resting my face on my hands.

"You're unbelievable sometimes. Do you know that?" Cal chuckled.

"I know... now, where's that hot chocolate you've been raving about?" I asked, walking into the kitchen.

"Coming up," he replied, following behind me.

I grabbed two mugs from the cupboard, one had 'I LOVE NY' on it and the other had flowers on it.

"You've been to America?" I asked, inspecting the mug.

"Oh, god no. That's from when Lewis - my great-grandson went to New York a few years ago," he said, taking a seat.

"That's neat," I said, pouring water into the kettle.

"Oh, I can do that for you," Cal muttered.

"It's the least I can do... you just sit down and relax."

"You're determined to show your gratitude aren't you," he chuckled.

"The best I can, anyway." I mixed the hot chocolates and passed a mug to him.

"So... what are we going to do about you and Poppy?" Cal asked, sipping his hot chocolate.

"Seriously?" I groaned. "You sound like Josh."

"Hmm... how is Josh, anyway?" he asked, widening his eyes.

"What does that look mean?" I asked.

"What look?" he replied, widening his eyes, again.

"That look... the one you just gave me twice," I said, grabbing whipped cream from the fridge, and dousing my hot chocolate in it.

"Cae... you have to remember that he did steal from me three times. We're not exactly on great terms."

"I guess that makes sense," I said, licking the whipped cream off my lips.

"Did he ever tell you why he stole from me, anyway? Just curious," he asked, taking sips.

I thought for a moment and realised he never actually told me. "No... I don't think so."

"Well I hope there was a good enough reason," Cal sighed.

"I'm sure there is," I said. "He's a good person. He is."

"I sure hope so. Anyway... you came back late tonight... not that I mind of course."

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that. Poppy wanted to show me her guitar... and then I ended up staying for supper. I should've said something." I looked down at the floor.

"Now, I'm intrigued. I hope everything went well," he said. "Did it?"

"Yeah, it was great. It was great until her brother mentioned how I'm homeless," I murmured.

"Oh... is that why you thanked me like a million times for letting you stay here when you got back? And the hot chocolate?" he asked, genuinely concerned.

I nodded. "What he said was mean, but it's true."

"I'm sure he didn't mean it, son. He's only a kid," Cal said, trying to lighten the mood.

"No, he meant it. And it's true. I am homeless, Cal. I have nothing... apart from you, of course... but then what happens? I can't stay here forever-"

"We'll cross that bridge when it comes," Cal interrupted. "Don't stress."

I finished my hot chocolate and poured the rest down the sink.

Cal stood up, walked towards me, and rubbed my shoulder. "Cae, I know things aren't what you pictured them to be... but I'm here for the long run. I promise that I will help you as much as I can, but you have to help yourself too."

I took a deep breath. "I know, and I'm sorry I've taken this all out on you. It's not your problem-"

"If you are living under my roof, you are my problem, okay?" he interrupted, hugging me.

I nodded.

"Look. I know it's only early, but you've had a long day... why don't you get ready for bed?" he asked.

I might," I said, breaking away from his embrace.

He began washing the dishes, and I started making my way to my room.

"Oh... Cae?" he yelled, and I stopped. "I left you a present in your room for you."

I opened the door to find a black acoustic guitar resting against the bed. It had a few stickers on it, and the brand has faded from the headstock, but apart from that, it was perfect. I placed it on my lap and started playing a few songs I knew from the top of my head. I played a few Beatles songs in honour of Ton. He was the one who got me to play the guitar in the first place. When I was about thirteen, I was always amazed by Ton's guitar skills, so one day he decided to teach me.

I smiled, remembering those times.