Decade: Early 1970s

EVERYTHING IS DIFFERENT

by JoAnn Baca

Just because everything is different doesn’t mean anything has changed.

~ Irene Peter

“Hey, kid…stop!!!” The grocer started after the gangly, dark-haired teenager but gave up after only a few yards, not wanting to leave his store unattended.

Knowing that would happen, the 15-year-old stopped running, turned, and waved mockingly as he walked backwards, taking a big bite of the apple he’d just cadged from the grocer’s stand. He was still walking backwards when he bumped into someone. “Oops! Sorry, I…” he began to say while turning to face the person he’d jostled.

It was a red-faced, frowning cop.

“Hoo boy,” the youngster muttered under his breath.

The policeman was reaching out to grab the teen’s arm when he found himself spun around. Another boy had appeared out of nowhere and barged into the cop, sending him colliding with the side of a brick building.

“Run!” the newcomer shouted.

Both boys took off, braving the lanes of traffic on the busy New York City street.

They began laughing as they got to the far sidewalk, where they turned as one to wave at the cop, who was still brushing dust from his uniform.

“We’d better go before he calls in reinforcements. You ticked him off,” the first boy said.

“Me?! You’re the one he was after! I only interfered with him arresting you for felony apple theft!” the other said.

The two teens regarded each other. They could almost have been brothers – both tall, both slender, both dark-haired, and both of an age.

The apple-muncher thrust his right hand out. “I’m Devin.”

The other grasped his hand and shook it, saying, “Call me Stosh.”

Devin took another bite of his apple, then offered the uneaten half to his new friend.

As they hustled down the sidewalk to put more distance between the law and themselves, Stosh asked his new pal, “So, what’s with those scars?”

* * *

“Stosh…interesting name.” Devin and Stosh were casing a so-so neighborhood, hoping to find a hidden nook in which to spend the warm summer night.

“My dad liked it. But I’m gonna change it, soon as I figure out a better one.”

“If you want my name, I’ll sell it to you cheap,” Devin replied cheekily.

“Not happy with it?” Stosh poked his nose behind an overgrown bush beside a church, but soon backed away, shaking his head. “Already taken.”

“Oh, it’s OK, I guess, but there are lots of other cool names. Figured I’d try out a couple, find one that fits my new lifestyle better.”

Stosh snorted. “What lifestyle? Being homeless isn’t exactly a ‘style’!”

Devin grinned. “I’m not gonna be homeless for long! Got plans. Big plans.”

“Uh-huh.” Stosh looked unconvinced. “Well, so do I. BIG plans!”

“First item on my planning list is finding someplace to sleep tonight. How about over there?” Devin said, pointing toward a lowered ladder leading up to a fire escape, and the boys headed in that direction.

* * *

It had been a good summer. With a partner, lifting food had been easier, and being two guys together was protection against many of the predators haunting the streets after hours. But the first hint of cooler weather made Devin uneasy.

“Hey, Stosh…I’m figuring it’s about time to head for warmer climes. I stayed in the city last winter and…let’s just say it was not pleasant. What about you?”

Stosh shrugged. “I’m probably staying put. I’m pretty sure I can get on with that crew building the tower over on 5^th. Guy running the site hinted I could maybe sleep in the trailer he uses as an office if I agree to help the watchman out, make sure he stays awake nights. Stuff’s been going missing, and he figures two pairs of eyes are better than one.”

“Sounds like a sweet deal.” Devin looked down at his scuffed boots, noting the run-down heels. Time to “find” a new pair. “I’m thinking of hopping a freight train, heading down to Florida. Some guy I met a while back told me about a two-bit roadside alligator attraction that lets workers stay on the property after hours if they agree to get paid off the books. Figure it’s best for me. A leave-nothing-but-footprints kind of deal.”

“When you going?” Stosh asked, sad to think of losing a pal, somebody who’d had his back, somebody he trusted. There were not many people like that on the streets. He’d found that out the hard way.

“When you starting that construction job?”

“Monday.”

“Monday sounds like a good day for me to leave then.”

Stosh threw a pebble into the Hudson, watching the widening circle of water displaced by its impact. “Think we’ll ever meet up again?”

Devin laughed. “Sure! You’re gonna be a rich real estate developer one day, right?”

Smiling, Stosh nodded. “That’s the plan.”

“I’ll meet you one day at some fancy museum benefit when I’m back in town. I’ll be a doctor or an explorer or an animal trainer or…heck, maybe all three!”

“I won’t be Stosh then though.”

“Who’ll you be? Did you find a name that suits you better than Stosh?”

“I’m toying with a few, but…Elliot sounds good. Sounds like a rich guy’s name, doesn’t it?”

“Yep, it does at that. OK…Elliot…let’s grab us something to eat. That dumpster we hit yesterday seems like a good place to start, no?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

They both laughed.

“Next stage of the plan, at least!” Devin said.

Twenty years pass…

“Ah, Mr. Burch, there you are.” The disreputable art dealer smiled and held out a hand.

“Are we acquainted?” Elliot pretended that he didn’t know the man. Actually, they had met once, years before. Wariness made it prudent to seem forgetful, as he knew the dealer wasn’t above selling paintings of dubious provenance.

“We are, indeed!” The man persisted, the jovial smile now seeming forced.

“What is it you want, Mr. …” Elliot looked over the man’s shoulder and raised his eyebrows, making it seem he had made eye contact with a friend.

“Masterson.”

Elliot had to give him credit for stick-to-it-iveness.

“Well, Masterson, you’ll have to excuse me. My associate is indicating it’s time for us to leave.” Elliot withdrew his hand from the other’s grip with some effort and brushed past him, moving with determination. Suddenly, across the room he caught a glimpse of a face that seemed familiar. He knew the visage – those facial scars were hard to forget – but the name escaped him.

The man turned at that moment and their eyes met. Recognition dawned at the same time, and the men made a beeline for each other.

“Stosh, wasn’t it? But you were thinking of changing it to…” Then the dark-haired man did a double-take. “Oh, my God, you must be…Elliot Burch!”

“For quite a while now, yes.” Elliot nodded, smiling. “Keep the other name under your hat, if you would.”

“Say no more. Oh, and…the same for me, if you would. I’m only Devin to… those who’ve forgotten I exist.” A brief flicker of pain crossed his features, of that Elliot was certain. He knew that feeling well…and the need to mask it.

“Who are you these days?” Elliot steered his old friend toward a quiet corner in the noisy museum atrium.

The man affected an Australian accent. “Tour guide, late of the Outback, mate!” Then he laughed and reverted to his regular voice. “Going by Jeff Radler now.”

Elliot patted him on the back. “Great to see you again, Jeff. It’s been a while.” He took in the outfit “Jeff” was wearing. “Business is good?”

“Adequate. I’ve made enough to get back to the States, with a little extra tucked away. And I have another job lined up, so I’m planning to stay a while.”

Elliot dug into his pocket and took out a business card. “Let me know if you’re free for lunch sometime. I think I can do us better than the garbage cans behind Gristede’s now!”

“Mr. Burch?” His assistant was trying to get his attention.

“Duty calls,” Elliot said.

The two old pals shook hands and parted, smiling.

Elliot wondered if “Jeff” would contact him, but suspected he might not. Their brief, if close, friendship of years past didn’t mean they had anything in common now that they both were such different people…in more than name.

Devin stared at the business card Elliot Burch had given him. The young man he’d met with those big dreams and empty pockets appeared to have done what he’d planned to so long ago. He now had full pockets…full enough to make even his biggest dreams come true.

He sighed and tossed the business card into the trash. Stosh might have been fun to catch up with, but Elliot wasn’t the kind of person who would want to waste time reminiscing about the “good old days” they’d had. He likely wanted all that shoved under a rug, just like the name he’d warned Devin not to use.

In any case, Devin had no time for lunches. He was starting his new job with the D.A.’s office in just about eight hours. It was time for some shut-eye.

He ambled out of the museum, tossing his lifted nametag into the bushes. As he headed for his hotel, he mused about the coming day and what it would bring. Law was a new effort for him, but he was sure he could handle it, just like he had every other occupation he’d tried. Heck, if he could pass as a doctor, could lawyering be that hard? After all, he was smart, he was careful…and he was good.

The park was just a few blocks away, but he gave it a wide berth. No time for that yet…or maybe ever.

Even if everything was different now…sometimes you can’t go home again.

________

Author’s Note: With thanks to Claire for her story prompt in the Plot Bunny Warren, from which this riff was born.