He had given up the resolve not to beg after one day with Rosie. He told her he wanted a job, would not beg. She had just cackled and coughed and asked him which particular job he thought he was qualified for. In his ignorance he recited a list. Rosie said nothing just set off with her cart and he followed. Their first stop was a small block of apartments just outside the homeless zone. You could leave the zone during the day as long as you were back in its confines by sunset. Rosie stopped outside the block, made no attempt to go inside.

"Being a janitor is good job, huh?" she asked him.

"Yes, why not? I would have a place to stay even if I had to sleep in the boiler room and I could fix things."

"Is that what the janitor did where you lived before?"

"My building wasn't big enough to have a janitor of its own."

"So how did broken things get fixed?"

"I just told the doorman and he arranged it."

Rosie turned and pushed her cart away from the door. He received his first lecture on how the city worked. Only large buildings had their own janitors, the larger ones had teams. Large companies ran all the building maintenance, janitors were specially trained and a range of specialty services, like plumbing was done by others. Everyone paid to be working; the apartment owners paid the total bill. He did not believe her at first but she did not listen to his argument. Next on his list was dockworker. Rosie led him to a high chain link fence near the harbor. They both stood watching the cargo being loaded and unloaded. The cranes and container trucks moved to and fro ceaselessly, there was no sign of any humans.

Dishwasher came next and this seemed to give Rosie some special delight, she kept chuckling all through his explanation as they walked.

"I'll wash dishes in a restaurant, nothing fancy. They pay me a little and feed me for free. I'll be warm and fed at least even if I have to sleep outside sometimes."

They walked past the front of a diner; it was just an ordinary diner. There were no homeless inside. Around the back a man was standing in the door smoking. He was dressed in clean, white uniform. He was probably an under chief. Rosie knew him well this was one of her regular scavenging points. She left him with the cart and stood talking to the man, gesturing back over her shoulder to him. Soon the man began to laugh, tears ran down his cheeks. He gave Rosie a cigarette and lit it for her. She beckoned him over. He talked to Tony for a few minutes and then joined Rosie who was finishing the cigarette.

"OK! All right, I understand, what next?"

Tony was not a chief, he was the dishwasher. He had been washing dishes most of his life. His small cut of the tips gave him enough money to live on. He was not paid. The diner staff were allowed to buy food from the diner, it was a little cheaper than buying it in the supermarkets. Tony was still giving ten percent of his tips to the agency that found him the job. He was happy, Rosie gave him a small cut of whatever she made from scavenging near the diner and occasionally she gave a good laugh, like today.

"Maybe you could sweep the streets?"

At first he thought she was serious but as he trailed behind the cart he realized this was just another taunt. He had never seen the giant machines that swept the city streets but sometimes awake early in the morning he had heard their rumble. He had found the noise somehow reassuring as he drifted back to sleep. He had never thought about what happened to the trash the machines swept up. Now he knew someone, somewhere put it all to use.

He had fallen to begging after three cool nights and foodless days, it was still summer. Rosie would not even entertain the thought of him scavenging even when he said he would do it with her. Occasionally he got lucky and found something another scavenger had missed and Rosie needed or could sell. That's why he now had a box to sleep in, a sleeping bag, clothes and belt, all traded from Rosie. She never gave him anything for free. He often wondered why she helped him at all until one night she fell asleep clutching a faded photograph. When it fell out of her hand he went to retrieve it. It was a young boy dressed in a smart, military uniform with his short hair he looked much like Jonathan. He especially noticed their eyes each had the same look of fear that the smile could not hide.

The morning rush was over and he had picked up on all his regulars plus a couple of new ones, maybe out-of-towners. As a result he had his normal cash supply for the day, enough to buy lunch at the mission and share a bottle with Rosie to keep out the cold. He did not want any more, more was dangerous. He would not even need to come back for the afternoon but he needed to keep faith with his clients so the service would be free that day as they went home. He left his patch and walked across town headed for another resolution he had failed to keep. After the encounter with Harry the first day he had avoided returning to his old apartment just as he had avoided trying to contact James again. But he was drawn to his old building and sometimes went there, standing in the shadows always keeping out of sight, counting the days down to two years. Today he climbed the fire stairs of the building across the street from this vantage he could see into his old apartment.

A girl had moved into his apartment and it was filled with her furniture and belongings. It looked nothing like it had when he lived there. He never watched when she was home. He arrived after she left for work each day and left before she came back. The ache in his stomach came the first time he saw the changed apartment but it dulled after a while. Watching the apartment when he had the chance made him feel a little better, not content but not afraid. When he reached his lookout he sat huddled on the stairs to look through the windows. The bathroom door opened and the girl came out. At first he thought he had misread the days and it was the weekend. He never came on weekends. But no, it was Thursday, then why was she home? Maybe she was sick, did it matter? She could stay in the apartment if she wanted to it was her home now. He rose to leave not wanting to watch her. She was dressed in a sweatshirt and jeans. She looked clean and warm. He staggered quickly down the stairs needing to get away but stopped at the bottom, panting, trying to catch his breath. The girl came out of the building and began walking away from him on the other side of the street. She had a jacket, gloves and a white beanie. She half walked, half skipped in the cold.