I rush to the next person who is walking briskly in her high heels.

"Please, ma'am could you please spare some money? My sister is sick and she's going to die without food." She ignores me so I walk after her. "Please ma'am. Just a few dollars." My heart sinks as she ignores me again. But I don't give up. "Ma'am. Just a few dollars. Just a few. That's all we ask." Finally she digs into her purse and she produces a handful of one dollar coins. She hands them to me, nose wrinkling in disgust, and I store them in the little pocket I hide in my clothes. It's made of good cloth so the coins don't fall. 

I walk up to the next person walking by. He has polished leather shoes and a lean jacket. 

"Please, sir, could you spare us some money? My sister is sick. She needs food. We need money." 

"No," he states in a commanding voice. But I am not cowed. 

"Sir, please. We'll be so grateful to you if you just give us a few dollars. Sir, we need to eat. Spare some mercy." 

"Shoo off, young boy." 

"Sir I will not leave until you give me money." I keep my pace fast to keep up with his long legs. And I keep looking up at him with my wide, pleading eyes. I don't back down. I can't back down. For Stelli. For my family. 

"Fine," he surrenders, and tosses me a handful of coins. I quickly pocket them and and I rush to the next passerby. 

This day of begging is going marvellously. I wish I could be this assertive all the time. But it's too dangerous. The police might catch wind of what you're doing and come kill you. But we're going to die anyways if we don't get money. We might as well take our chances. 

"Sir could you spare a few dollars?" I ask a man in a neatly ironed shirt. 

"Fuck off, child," he tells me apathetically as he brushes past me. But I scramble after him. 

"Sir my sister is sick and we need money so we can buy her food. Please spare us some money. Please show a little mercy." 

"I don't have money to spare." 

"Please. Just a few dollars. Nothing much, sir. Just a few dollars." 

"Ask someone else."

"I'm asking you and I'm going to keep asking you until you give me something." I square my shoulders and keep up with him. Finally, he relents, pulling out a bill from his wallet and handing it to me. I got a whole bill. Wow! 

"Thank you, sir!" 

I go to the next passerby, a man in engraved leather boots.

"Please, sir, spare us some money." He says nothing and keeps walking, so I try again. "Please, sir, we're hungry. My siblings are hungry. And we need food. Please help us." Again he says nothing. "I won't leave until you spare us a few dollars," I tell him. He pushes me backwards but I quickly recover and keep following him. "Sir, please, we would be so grateful." Again he says nothing. This is a hard one. I reach out and grab him by the wrist. He turns around and sighs. 

"Here," he says as he hands me a bill. I thank him and place it in my pocket. We'll probably have enough to feed Stelli and enough left over in savings when inevitably the rest of us get sick. 

I shudder at the thought of my other siblings getting sick. But it's inevitable. When one of us is sick the others soon follow. It's going to be an absolutely miserable few weeks, as the scraping violence of sickness will wrack through all of us. But hopefully, hopefully, hopefully we'll get through it. 

A thought runs through me. What if I don't lose Stelli? What if I lose Kalkita or Monan or Trayve? That would be just as bad. Of course they would be in a better place. But the unbearableness of missing them would be too much. I go to the next person. 

This is a woman wearing a frilly top. I ask her for money. And I ask her again. And I ask her again. Until finally she gives me a ten dollar bill. That's a lot. I thank her brightly, though there is barely any brightness inside my anxious heart. 

I move on to the next person. And the next. And the next. Eventually I am so exhausted that I cannot keep going. I take a moment to sit down by the side of the street. My stomach growls hungrily and my throat is parched with thirst. The hot sun beats down over my head and makes it throb groggily. I wish I could go inside. It's cool and shady and restful inside. But I can't. 

I gather up my strength and I get up and follow another woman. 

"Ma'am could you spare a few dollars? My siblings and I need to eat." She immediately gives me two coins. And it's not a lot. Not a lot at all. But I thank her anyways. 

I walk up to a group of youths. They look a handful of years older than me. But unlike me all of them are well-dressed in new, clean, sturdy clothes and they have clean faces and shining hair. 

"Please could you spare a few dollars?" I ask them. 

"Hey!" A booming voice cuts through the streets. "You there!" I turn around and see a police officer stalking towards me. I stop. The rich youths stop. My heart jumps into my throat while my stomach roils with terror. 

"Yes, sir?" My voice is timid and meek. 

"I've heard that you've been causing trouble for the honest people of this city as they go about their day." 

I gulp. 

"No, sir." 

"That's not what I've been hearing." 

"He hasn't been causing trouble," one of the girls in the group pipes up. I turn around to look at her curiously. "We've been watching him this whole time," she continues, "he's been nothing but polite and courteous." 

"Really?" The officer asks, "can you all confirm this?" 

"Yes," one of the boys says, "we can confirm that he hasn't been bothering anyone."

"So he hasn't been aggressively and annoyingly asking for money?" 

"No, sir," a boy replies confidently.

"We'll I guess I'll be on my way then. Thank you for the witness." He turns to leave.

"Thank you," I say, and this time it's with genuine gratitude. 

"Think nothing of it," the first girl tells me. "Hey why are you begging for money again?" 

"My sister is sick," I tell her. "We need to feed her." 

"We can do you one better," another girl says, "we can treat her." My eyes go wide at the generous offer. 

"Thank you so much," I breathe. 

"Meet us at Runway Boulevard and Seven Fifteen Street at nine," she states, "and we'll get you guys all set up." 

———

I sit at the intersection between Runway Boulevard and Seven Fifteen Street. Stelli is on my lap. Trayve is running his fingers through her hair. Monan is a boy right now and he's looking across the streets to see if they have arrived. Kalkita is silent. Thoughtful. Reflective. We've never been shown such kindness before. It makes sense that she doesn't understand it. 

A white car drives up to us and stops. It's huge. It's clean. It's beautiful. The driver's seat has the boy from before and the other seats are empty. 

We get in, and inside it's so cool and smells good. There are enough seats for all of us, and the seats are soft and plush and sink down beneath us. It's been years since I've had anything like this. 

"Your car is very beautiful," Monan tells the young man. 

"Thank you." His voice is smooth. Everything about him is smooth. I cradle Stelli against my side and just let myself relax. 

"Thank you for helping us." Trayve's voice is full of wonder and gratitude. 

"Oh you're welcome." 

"I just realized," I start, trying to sound as sophisticated as I can, "that we don't know your name." 

"And I don't know your names as well. My name is Josenon."

"I'm Manon. And this is my younger brother Trayve, this is my older sister Kalkita. This is my younger sister Stelli and this is my older brother Reean." She gestures at us. 

"It's nice to meet you guys." 

"It's nice to meet you as well," I reply. "And thank you so much for helping us. I don't know how we can ever repay you." 

"Oh I'm sure you'll repay us enough." 

Kalkita hasn't said anything so far. She looks out the window, head slumped against the side of the car. Stelli doesn't talk to him but she whisphers in my ear that she likes this car. She likes how soft it is. I whispher back to her that she deserves the softest things in the world. 

We don't get taken to a hospital as I thought we would. Instead we get taken to a large apartment complex. 

"My uncle owns this apartment, but he doesn't live in it. He's renting it out to people but they won't arrive for another month. You can stay here until then. It doesn't have wifi but it has everything else. I've got a whole bunch of groceries for you at the back of the car. And if you ever need anything my number is on the notepad beside the phone. I'll be back tomorrow to take Stelli to the doctor." 

"Wow, Josenen. Thank you so much!" Trayve's voice is full of joy. It lifts my spirits to see him so happy. 

I carry Stelli to the elevator while the others carry the bags and bags of groceries. We emerge in a small room with a single door which Josenen unlocks with his key. 

Inside is a flat that's so grand. It has polished stone floors and many large windows. There are silk curtains on the windows and woven rugs on the floors. There is a carved coat rack and tables and shelves lining the walls which have all sorts of decorations on them. There are vases on the floors and six large sofas scattered in a wobbly W, with coffee tables in between them. There is a huge television taking up most of one wall and the other walls have paintings on them. 

There is a long, wide hallway that leads to other rooms and I put Stelli down in the large, soft bed that is in the first room. None of us say anything as we just gawk at the apartment. It's all so pretty. 

"I'll be back tomorrow," Josenen tells us as he leaves. We have the flat to ourselves now. 

"Wow," says Trayve, looking around, "this place is amazing. 

"Let's put the groceries in the fridge." There is something tense about Kalkita's voice. But I decide not to comment on it as we go to the bags of groceries we left at the door. 

It takes us a minute to find the kitchen. It's large, with sparkly counters, two ovens, two sinks, and stoves built into the counters. The fridge is massive with two doors and the groceries we have fill it to the brim. 

"This will last us a while," Monan exclaims brightly. 

"Let's start eating," Trayve suggests. 

"Ooh, perfect plan," Monan echoes. We go to the fridge and take out some bread and turkey and cheese and vegetables and sauce to make sandwiches with. 

"Kalkita, you've been awfully quiet," I tell her. 

"I just don't feel like talking." Her words are dark. 

"Are you sure?" 

"Yeah." She leaves the kitchen. 

I take Stelli's sandwiches and a tall glass of mango juice and go to her room. I set them on the nightstand beside her bed, which is made of dark polished wood. Kalkita is there, kneeling on the floor beside Stelli. 

"You have to eat, baby sister," I tell Stelli. "You have to get your strength up. Kalkita your sandwiches are in the kitchen."

"Reean. Are we going to stay here?" Stelli asks me as I help her up on the pillows. 

"For a while, darling. For a while." I help her eat the sandwiches which are filled with meat and vegetables and fat and bread. She eats both hungrily, talking to me about her favourite songs. It's great to see her eat until she's full. 

"This juice is so sweet," she tells me as she drains the glass. 

I smile at her. 

———

There is a big box of those disposable cloth masks along with the groceries he gave us. We all put them on and sit or lie across Stelli's bed. There is music playing. We found an old vinyl record player and a collection of vinyl CDs. Right now they're playing a song about missing your homeland. We're not paying attention to the words as we talk to each other. 

"We'll live like kings this month." Trayve smiles. 

"We should be living like kings every month," Kalkita retorts, "but I'll take what I can get."

"Time spent with you guys is always precious," Monan tells us, "you guys are the best family I could ever hope for." 

"Aww, thanks" I tell her. 

"I'm a boy now by the way." 

"Okay," I tell him. 

"This is a room fit for a princess," Stelli exclaims. "And this bed is so soft. Like a princess bed." 

"All the best for my princess," Kalkita brushes her fingers through Stelli's hair. 

"It's so nice to just rest," Trayve sighs.

"I know. I'm just basking in it." I smile at him. 

Stelli coughs but it's not as bad as before. We found over-the-counter cough syrup in the cupboards and gave it to her. It did wonders. 

"It's so nice and shady and cool here," she says from where she's lying. 

We're all trying very hard to not think about what will happen once the month is up. 

"It was nice of them to help us so much."

We keep talking until we're drowsy with sleep and then we all go to our seperate beds, full and cool and well-rested. For the first time in years.