A Dog Called Homeless. Sarah Lean
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head and handed me the bag. “Go on,” she said, “you give them to Jed. I’d better be getting back to the counter.”
I had to crouch down to get Jed’s attention because he was busy packing all his things into carrier bags. Then he did that thing when you look away and then look back again quickly, like you didn’t realise who it was or what was happening first of all. I heard him take a sharp breath.
I had my pocket money in my hand and held it out for Jed to see. I opened the hat and dropped the coins in, but he didn’t look at them. I could tell he was really glad because he stared right into my eyes and smiled. His eyes were lovely, silver-warm and sparkling. A rush of air came from his mouth because he had been holding his breath, and now he was so relieved and happy to have his money back.
Then Luke was there, pulling at my arm and saying, “What’re you doing, Cally? Come on, you know what Dad thinks!”
Dad said tramps had a choice just like everyone else. We weren’t allowed to give them money. They chose to live on the streets. They’d made their own problems and had to sort them out themselves.
“You didn’t buy him food as well, did you?” Luke whispered through his teeth. “Dad’ll go mad!”
Jed didn’t say anything; he just stood there and kept smiling. He had surprisingly white teeth. So I smiled back. It was kind of like talking but not talking. I didn’t know what we were saying, but it was something nice. Then, just like that, he handed me his HUNGRY sign. His loose sole scuffed along the pavement as he walked away.
“What’s the matter with you?” said Luke, dragging me away. “Dad’s coming!”
I followed his eyes, saw Dad coming down the steps of the bank, leafing through a pile of papers.
“All right, kids?” he said. “What you been up to?”
Luke frowned and took a deep breath. “Nothing much,” he said slowly, narrowing his eyes.
“What’s that you got there?” Dad said to me, rolling his papers into a tube. I held the tramp’s sign up to show him.
“Just what I was thinking. How about pizza then?” he said, looking over his shoulder at Pizza Palace.
But it wasn’t the red tablecloths and drippy candles in the window of Pizza Palace that caught my eye. It was a red raincoat. Mum was standing by The Music Shop on the other side of Pizza Palace. She put her face close to the window and looked inside. And then, just when the tramp came past her, she joined him, walked alongside him. They turned into the alleyway, side by side.
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