The first memory I have of Caleb was on the night my parents kicked me out. My mother caught me with her lipstick, and my father forced me out at gunpoint after. I can still remember what he said to me. "What good are you?" I could never get it out of my head, and at some point, I just stopped trying.

Not sure what I would have done if Caleb hadn't been there. It was a rainy night, water coming down like it aimed to flood the whole city. All I had on me were the clothes on my back, $5.27, and a piece of glass I had broken off of a window. I was working up the courage in an alleyway when this stranger walked up to me out of the rain. He throws some old tarps in front of me and says, "Yeah, you. If you're not doing anything at the moment. Mind lending me a hand?"

I didn't think he was talking to me at first. He must've mistaken me for a friend, I thought. But I didn't correct him. Instead, I hid away the glass and asked him what he wanted. "Well, I lost my umbrella, and I don't exactly have a tent, but then I found a bunch of these old poles and a tarp lying around in some dumpster. Figured it'd make a pretty good rain shield. So you wanna help?" I thought he was joking at first. The rain was coming down hard, but he didn't seem to mind it at all. He just stood there, letting it beat down on him without even flinching. What did he even need a tarp for? In the end, it didn't matter because he didn't need a tarp. He needed my help.

We worked all night trying to pitch up that thing which was harder than it sounded. All of the poles he'd found were of a different height, and we had nothing to nail them to, the tarp was full of holes, and the whole thing kept collapsing under the weight of the rain. I tried giving up a few times, but Caleb wouldn't hear a word of it and hounded me to keep working every time. "Look, if you don't do it, then I'm gonna have to ask the weird guy on the corner for help, and that creep's been eye banging me all night. So please, do not make me ask the creep." And it worked. He kept me off my ass the entire night until we finally managed to pitch up the tarp.

The downside was by the time we did, the rain had all but stopped and left us soaked to the bone. Defeated, I was about to wander off to some corner when I saw Caleb crawl underneath the tarp. 

"I don't think it's going to rain again tonight," I said, trying to break it to him easy.

"Fuck that." He said. "We spent all night gettin' this fucker up, and I'm gonna enjoy it. Rain or no." He then crossed his arms and gave an exaggerated huff like a belligerent five-year-old. I burst out laughing when I saw that, and I'll never forget how good of a laugh it was. It didn't last, but it was nice while it did. It almost made me forget about my soaked clothes.

There wasn't a lot of space under the tarp, so me and Caleb had to huddle close to each other. As uncomfortable as it was, it might have ended up saving our lives. The cold air made quick work of us, and before long, we were shivering like wet dogs. So I huddled close to Caleb, and he to me. We didn't have much heat, but it was more than we would have had alone. We were like each other's little bonfire, flickering together in the night.

By the time morning came, the temperature had risen to something more tolerable, and our clothes had dried just enough to not kill us. I didn't come out from under the tarp, though. Not with Caleb still lying there beside me. And neither did he. We just sat there under a tent that did not work, scrunched up against the other like misbehaving school children.

"Name's Caleb, by the way." He told me after a while. 

"Dustin," I replied. 

"Good to meet you, Dustin."

"Yeah. You too."

We sat in awkward silence for a moment. 

"So, you new in town?" 

I couldn't answer. The words simply did not come, but they didn't need to.

"Want me to give you the tour?" Caleb said.

"No. That's alright. I don't want to trouble you."

"Okay then. Consider it your payment. For helping me pitch up this bad boy." At that moment, he slapped a hand against one of the support beams and unintentionally caused the whole thing to come down on top of us. I couldn't help but laugh again when the tarp fell over us, and this time, Caleb joined me. I'll never forget what that was like, not hearing him laugh but laughing with me. Two homeless kids buried under a makeshift tent and giggling like third graders learning a new swear. When we shrugged the wreck off of us, I said, "Yeah. I think I'd like that."

And his tour lasted for six long years, taking us all over Seattle. He showed me every corner I thought I knew and some I never imagined existed. Not all were nice. One time we accidentally wandered into a crackhouse and almost got stabbed by a homeless man. But there were good times too. So, so many good times. There weren't a lot of places kids like us could be seen. If we were lucky, we'd have just been carted off for loitering. The pier was one such place, but that never stopped Caleb. A fish market had come into town one week, and Caleb was dead set on getting himself a lobster. 

"I hear they taste amazing!" He told me. "I mean, they have to if people eat so many of them."

Just like that, we were off to the market. We couldn't actually buy anything, of course, but we got our lobster. Caleb had a lot more experience in that sort of thing, so I was set up to be the distraction while he snatched one from a nearby tank. 

"Are you sure?" I asked. "I'm not really an actor. I can't-"

"Then don't act," Caleb said. "You want some food too, right?"

"Yeah, but-"

"So ask for it. Look at you. You're scrawny, scuzzy, and smell like last century's garbage. They'll eat that shit up like candy."

"But I can't-"

"Of course, you fucking can, Dusty. You've just gotta want it a little bit more. Just imagine, the whole time you're out there, that you're chowing down on freshly cooked lobster. Butter drizzlin' down your face, that sweet lobstery taste in your mouth, violin music playing in the background while butlers with entire trees shoved up their asses wait on you."

"What?"

"Okay, metaphors breakin' down, but you get what I mean, right?"

I thought about what he said for a moment. Butter, butlers, and the taste of lobster on my tongue. "What do lobsters taste like?" I asked.

"I don't know. Sea-y?"

I laughed again, which prompted Caleb to say, "Well then, what do you think they taste like, huh?"

I thought about it for a moment before saying, "Like crushed raspberries. The kind where all the seeds are removed, and then it's lathered into a freshly back hazelnut crust. And when you bite into it, part of it dribbles down your lip, so you reach up to whip it away only to then lick it off your hand. All warm and gooey and just the right amount of sweet." 

I didn't realize how lost I got in my description until I looked back at Caleb. He was staring at me with this shocked expression as if I'd confessed some dark secret.

"Dammit. I'd like to change my answer, please. That sounds so much better!"

I smiled. "Really?"

"Yes, really. So go out there and just imagine that. You'll do great."

"You think so?"

"Of fucking course. Now come on!"

It was remarkably easy getting onto the fairgrounds, even with all the gates they'd set up. We snuck our way towards one of the shellfish vendors, where we spied a massive taken absolutely stuffed with lobsters. While Caleb snuck around back, I approached the vendor from the front and just started speaking. I can't remember exactly what I said, but whatever it was thoroughly distracted the clerk. All I had to think about was Caleb and me scarfing down mouthfuls of lobster, and the words just came to me. And it worked. I didn't even know what I was doing, just that I was doing it well.

That is until a loud crash came from behind the counter, and I heard Caleb yell, "Run, Dusty! Lobsters are evil!!" He had already hopped the counter by the time I looked back and saw a large congregation of lobsters scattered amongst the remains of a now broken tank. I barely had time to think before Caleb grabbed me by the hand and raced away from the booth. 

We tore through the crowds like rabid dogs were on our tails, bobbing and weaving between dozens of confused guests. I figured there was no one chasing us, not when we were so far away from the lobster stand, but I didn't stop us. The world was rushing past so quickly that it disappeared into a blur of color and shapes, and all that was left was Caleb and me. I could have gotten lost in that madness for hours, just him and me holding onto each other.

"Damn it! Where the hell's the exit in this place?!" Caleb exclaimed after a while of running around like headless chickens. He'd stopped us in the center of the bizarre and was frantically looking around for any sort of sign. I couldn't help but smile at that.

"Come on," I said as I squeezed his hand and ran off down one of the isles, this time dragging him behind me. He may not have known where he was going, but he knew I'd get him there. I couldn't have asked for more.

Eventually, we found ourselves outside the fairground, panting and sweating in an alley down by the shore. It took us a minute to catch our breath, and when we did, we realized we were still holding hands. It felt awkward at first because I wasn't sure if it was supposed to be awkward. Neither of us let go for the longest time, trying to figure out if the other wanted us to or not. 

"So, uhhhh," Caleb said, breaking the silence. "You good?"

A shiver ran down my neck. "Y-Yeah. I'm alright."

We stood there for a moment longer, but Caleb made sure the quiet didn't have time to settle "So, I didn't get the lobster, but-" He held up his free hand to show a single shelled leg with bits of white flesh hanging from the severed end. "I broke off this little guy. You wanna bite?"

I smiled again and took the leg before cracking it at the joint. I hadn't off the bigger chunk to Caleb and started sucking out the meat from my own.

"Oh Christ!" He cried out as he took a bite. "This tastes fucking awful."

"I guess it does," I replied.

And it was the best meal I'd ever had. 

Unfortunately, it would come to be one of the only meals I had. As time pressed on, things got harder and harder. Food became scarce, even with all our dumpster diving and thievery. It happened slow at first. One day we would be sharing a couple old bagels; the next, we'd only have one and a half, the following had only one, and soon we were licking crumbs off the bottom of old bags. Hunger started eating at my insides, and pretty soon, even Caleb started showing signs of starvation.

The worst part wasn't the hunger, however. If that was it, I'm sure we would have found a way through. It was the sorrow that came with it. I can't say it was really like sadness. It was more like a weight had been put on your brain and squeezed out whatever energy you might have had. You were too tired to be happy, and soon you would be left wallowing. Some days he didn't even get out of bed. We just sat there in whichever corner of the streets we'd made out home, staring off into space in total silence. I could feel myself rotting from the inside out. I didn't move, I didn't talk, I didn't think. I wasn't good for anything. Every day was another reminder of what I failed to do, be it finding some actual food or just getting off my ass. And all the while, I was letting Caleb rot with me. He didn't talk as often anymore. He barely even looked at me. I didn't blame him. I'd have hated me too.

I just needed some relief. One day where this crushing weight didn't suffocate me. That was all. Which is when I stumbled into Sand Point. For those who don't know, Sand Point is to Seattle what Compton is to Los Angeles. Is the place you go to get things done that you probably shouldn't be doing. Most of the people there are just trying to live their lives, but I wasn't there for them. I stumbled around for a bit, looking like a corpse left to bake on a highway until I was stopped by a man in an alleyway.

"Hey, kid. You don't look so good." He hissed at me in a half-whisper. "Why don't you sit down for a second. Take a load off."

I shouldn't have done it. I should have walked off and left him far behind me. But I was so very tired. I plopped myself down against the wall he leaned against, finding little relief in getting off my feet. 

"So what's got you down, now?" The man asked. 

I remember raising an eyebrow at him but not saying a word. He seemed to get the message, though. 

"Alright, alright. Don't tell me. Seems like something got you down, though. We've all been there, junior, for one reason or another. Terrible thing. I can't fix it, but I might have something that can help."

I wasn't surprised. That man wasn't the first peddler I had met. I pulled myself back onto my feet and started walking away, only for the man to chase after me. "Hang on, hang on, hang on. I know what you're thinking, but this ain't like that. It's just a little booster to help you get through the day. I won't even charge you nothing."

"I-I'd really rather not." I increased my pace, hoping to lose the man.

"Then what're you going to do? Get yourself a prescription and have them write up some happy pills for you? Or are you just going to go back and wallow around again?"

I stopped at that. My first thought was that he must have been spying on me, but it was dashed before long.

"Look, we all just want a break from it all sometimes. Nothing major, nothing to be ashamed of. It can be hard out there. Don't you just want to relax a little bit? Take a load off for a little while? Just for a little bit, and then you'll be right as rain. No big deal."

I rubbed my eyes as he talked and felt that crushing weight bare down on me. I tried to think it over, but I was too tired to even do that. I thought I must have looked so pathetic, being barely able to make up my own mind.

"A little won't work, right?" I asked.

"Of course not. And if you don't like it, you don't have to come back. Simple as that."

I didn't need to think about it for much longer. I felt another wave of exhaustion wash over me, and a moment later, I was walking away with a small bag full of white powder. I couldn't go back to Caleb; I didn't want him to see me like that. Searching around, I found a small empty alleyway tucked into some forgotten corner of Sand Point. I fished an old syringe, a rusty spoon, and a lighter from a nearby dumpster and got to work. I didn't have the stomach to take all of it at first. Instead, I filled the syringe up to the smallest amount I thought would still work. I hung the needle over my vein for a second, letting my doubt run its course before jabbing the needle down.