Big Sugar

Father Hennessy watched in the rearview mirror, as everyone settled into a seat and then asked if anyone had seen Stella Burke, who everyone knew. When no one answered, Hennessy shrugged and headed out towards the shelter.

As he was unloading his human cargo, Hennessy noticed that several people were climbing off another bus that was parked just adjacent to the shelter. He frowned when he saw the number painted on its side, 500, as it was a bus that had been in the repair shop the last time he had seen it. He watched the transients head for the shelter and walked over to the 500 bus where lifting the hood, Hennessy saw that it was minus a water pump and the spark plugs were not even hooked up; it was indeed the defective bus that had been in the shop but who had towed it to the shelter? And why had they towed it to the shelter?

Hennessy stared after the passengers, who had just departed off the bus, and hurried after them. Grabbing the closest man, he saw it was Gerald ‘Hairy Jerry’ Winslow a homeless man Hennessy knew had been living at the Port for the past year or so. “Hey Faddah Hen-see,” Winslow said. “Mar-ree Criz-muz,” he barked.

“Merry Christmas Gerry, ah, Gerry, did you just get off that bus?”

Winslow glanced at the bus with the number five-hundred painted on its side and smiled. “Yeah Faddah,” he said, “Big Shoe’gah brought us here.”

Father Hennessy turned a paler shade of white, when Susan ‘Dirty Sue’ McBride smiled a toothless grin and hissed, “That’s right Faddah, Big Sugar brought us, he loves us, he tol’ me so.”

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This is me: home-writer, book-reader, dog-lover and occasional poet. I make this website to share my and my friends texts with You, dear Reader. Please: read carefully, don't be scary, upgrade your mood and be king and leave your comment. :)