Chapter 2 - One Day
Vincent bought Eli another burger.
Then another one to take with him.
Eli looked suspicious.
“That’s three burgers.”
“I can count.”
“You said I could have one.”
“I changed my mind.”
“Can dads do that?”
Vincent leaned back in the booth.
“Constantly.”
Eli considered this.
“I think I like dads.”
Vincent looked away before the boy could see the expression that crossed his face.
After lunch, they returned to Grant Park.
Eli insisted on practicing until he could ride from one end of the path to the other without falling.
Vincent pretended he was annoyed.
He wasn’t.
He watched every attempt.
He adjusted the bicycle chain twice.
He tightened the crooked handlebar with a small tool borrowed from a maintenance worker.
He removed his expensive jacket and rolled his sleeves because running behind a child in thousand-dollar clothing had finally become ridiculous.
People noticed.
A few recognized him.
One man nearly walked into a tree while staring.
Vincent ignored everyone.
For one day, he was not the Wolf.
He was simply the man shouting, “Keep your eyes forward,” while a small boy wobbled down a path.
Eli asked questions constantly.
“Do rich people get bored?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have a pool?”
“Yes.”
“Inside?”
“Yes.”
“That’s stupid.”
Vincent looked at him.
“Why?”
“You could just go outside.”
“It’s fifty floors up.”
Eli stopped the bicycle.
“You live fifty floors in the sky?”
“Approximately.”
“What if the building falls?”
“It won’t.”
“But what if it does?”
Vincent sighed.
“Then I suppose I’ll regret the pool.”
Eli laughed so hard he almost dropped the bicycle.
Later, they sat beneath an oak tree.
Eli drank orange juice from a bottle Vincent had bought at the diner.
Vincent checked the time.
4:17 p.m.
The day was almost over.
Something unpleasant settled in his chest.
Eli noticed.
“You have to go?”
“Eventually.”
“Oh.”
The boy tried to hide his disappointment.
Vincent recognized that too.
Children who had lost enough people learned not to ask them to stay.
That fact disturbed him more than tears would have.
“What do you usually do at night?” Vincent asked.
Eli shrugged.
“Sleep.”
“Where?”
Another shrug.
Vincent waited.
Eli picked at a loose thread on his pants.
“Different places.”
“What places?”
“Places.”
Vincent’s voice hardened without meaning to.
“Eli.”
The boy looked up.
For the first time all day, fear appeared in his eyes.
Not fear of Vincent hurting him.
Fear of answering incorrectly.
Vincent softened his voice.
“I’m not angry.”
“You sound angry.”
“I often sound angry.”
“Why?”
“Apparently it saves time.”
Eli considered that.
Then he pointed toward the city.
“I can show you.”
Vincent’s phone vibrated in his pocket.
He had broken his own rule and brought it after lunch because Marcus had been calling the diner.
He checked the screen.
MARCUS: WHERE ARE YOU?
Vincent typed three words.
BUSY. STOP CALLING.
Then he put the phone away.
Eli had already started walking.
Vincent followed.
They crossed the park, passed two blocks of expensive apartments, then moved toward older streets where storefronts had metal shutters and brick walls showed decades of weather.
Eli pushed Lightning beside him.
Vincent noticed how carefully the child watched traffic.
He stopped at every intersection.
He never wandered.
He knew exactly where he was going.
That frightened Vincent.
A six-year-old should not know how to survive a city alone.
They passed a bakery.
Eli stared through the window.
Vincent saw him looking.
“You hungry again?”
“No.”
“Do you want something?”
“No.”
“You’re staring at the cinnamon rolls.”
“I like looking.”
Vincent walked inside.
Eli waited outside.
Vincent returned carrying a paper bag.
“You don’t listen very well,” Eli said.
“I’ve been told.”
Inside were four cinnamon rolls.
Eli’s eyes widened.
“Four?”
“One for now.”
“One for tomorrow?”
Vincent felt the same cold anger he had felt in the diner.
“No,” he said.
Eli blinked.
“Tomorrow we get fresh ones.”
The child looked at him carefully.
Vincent realized what he had said.
Tomorrow.
He had said it naturally.
As though he would be there.
As though there would be another day.
He nearly corrected himself.
He didn’t.
They kept walking.
Near sunset, Eli turned behind a row of abandoned commercial buildings.
The alley smelled of rainwater, old concrete, and garbage.
Vincent slowed.
“Eli.”
The child kept walking.
At the far end stood two dumpsters.
Behind one, protected by sheets of cardboard, was a narrow space.
A flattened box formed a mattress.
An old coat served as a blanket.
A plastic grocery bag contained what appeared to be everything the boy owned.
Vincent stopped.
For several seconds, he could not process what he was seeing.
“This is where you sleep?”
“Sometimes.”
“Sometimes?”
“If it rains a lot, I go under the train bridge.”
Vincent stared at the cardboard.
“You sleep here alone?”
Eli looked toward the alley entrance.
“Not always.”
A low bark came from behind a stack of wooden pallets.
Vincent immediately turned.
A large black-and-tan Rottweiler stepped cautiously into view.
Vincent’s body tensed.
The dog looked underfed but strong.
A worn leather collar hung around its neck.
Eli brightened.
“Bruno!”
The animal crossed the alley and pressed against the boy’s side.
Vincent watched carefully.
“Is he yours?”
Eli scratched the dog behind one ear.
“I think we’re each other’s.”
“How long has he been here?”
“Since winter.”
Bruno studied Vincent.
Vincent studied Bruno.
“He bite?”
“Only people he doesn’t like.”
“That’s reassuring.”
Eli smiled.
“He likes you.”
“How can you tell?”
“He hasn’t bitten you.”
Vincent looked at the dog.
“Excellent standard.”
Eli sat on the cardboard.
Bruno lowered himself beside him.
The boy opened the diner bag and pulled out the wrapped burger.
He tore it carefully in half.
Vincent frowned.
“You’re hungry.”
“So is Bruno.”
“You have two other burgers.”
Eli froze.
Then slowly smiled.
“I forgot.”
Vincent sat on an overturned crate.
The suit pants he wore cost more than most people’s monthly rent.
He did not care.
Eli handed Bruno a piece of meat.
The dog ate it gently.
Then Eli looked around his small shelter.
“Today was the best day ever.”
Vincent swallowed.
“Because of the bike?”
“No.”
“The burgers?”
“No.”
“The cinnamon rolls?”
Eli shook his head.
“Because I had a dad.”
Vincent looked away.
He had spent years teaching his face not to reveal emotion.
It almost failed him.
The sunset turned the alley walls orange.
Eli hugged his knees.
“Can dads stay until kids fall asleep?”
The question was so quiet Vincent almost pretended not to hear it.
“Yes.”
“Do you have to go?”
Vincent looked at the cardboard mattress.
Every instinct told him this was impossible.
He could not leave the boy here.
But he also understood enough about the law to know he could not simply take a child home because he wanted to.
There were authorities.
Child services.
Police reports.
Guardianship.
Questions.
And Vincent’s name came with more questions than most.
He pulled out his phone.
“Who are you calling?”
“A friend.”
“Are you calling the police?”
Eli immediately stood.
Bruno stood with him.
“No.”
“You promise?”
Vincent noticed panic in the boy’s face.
“Why are you afraid of police?”
“They take you places.”
“Who told you that?”
Eli looked down.
“People.”
Vincent put the phone away without dialing.
He would not terrify him.
Not tonight.
Instead, Vincent removed his coat.
He laid it over Eli’s old blanket.
The child stared.
“That’s probably expensive.”
“It was.”
“What if it gets dirty?”
Vincent looked around the alley.
“I’ll try to survive.”
Eli smiled.
Vincent remained until the sky went dark.
Bruno watched him from beside the child.
After a while, Eli’s breathing slowed.
He had fallen asleep.
One hand rested on the dog’s neck.
Vincent sat motionless.
He should leave.
Instead, he stayed another hour.
Then another.
At nearly midnight, a black SUV stopped near the alley entrance.
Marcus stepped out.
He wore a suit despite the hour.
When he saw Vincent sitting beside a sleeping homeless child, his expression changed from anger to confusion.
“What the hell are you doing?”
Vincent raised one finger.
Marcus lowered his voice.
“What are you doing?”
Vincent looked at Eli.
“I don’t know.”
Marcus stared at the cardboard bed.
Then at the child.
Then at Vincent.
“You can’t leave him here.”
“I know.”
“You can’t just take him.”
“I know.”
“So what’s the plan?”
Vincent remained silent.
That irritated Marcus.
“You always have a plan.”
“Not tonight.”
Marcus looked at him carefully.
For fifteen years, he had watched Vincent make decisions that affected thousands of people without hesitation.
Tonight, for the first time, Marcus saw his friend afraid.
Not for himself.
For someone else.
Marcus crouched.
“What’s his name?”
“Eli.”
“Last name?”
“Don’t know.”
“Parents?”
“Mother is dead. Father unknown.”
Marcus exhaled.
“This is complicated.”
Vincent looked at the sleeping boy.
“Then simplify it.”
“That isn’t how children work.”
Vincent glanced at him.
Marcus almost smiled.
“Tomorrow,” Marcus said, “we call Daniel.”
Vincent nodded.
Bruno lifted his head.
The dog stared beyond them toward the alley entrance.
A car was parked across the street.
Its headlights were off.
Marcus noticed it.
“You expecting someone?”
“No.”
The car remained for another ten seconds.
Then slowly drove away.
Vincent’s expression hardened.
“Get the plate.”
Marcus pulled out his phone.
But the vehicle disappeared around the corner before he could see it clearly.
Vincent looked down at Eli.
A feeling he had avoided his entire life settled inside him.
Fear.
Not the fear of losing money.
Not the fear of dying.
The fear of having something precious enough to lose.
And as Vincent sat beside the sleeping boy, he realized that the one-day promise had already become something much more dangerous.
Tomorrow, he would return.
May you like
And somewhere in the city, someone had begun watching.
---
