Rosa and Grover,
by Louisa. copyright July 2005.


It was harder these days, Rosa thought to herself. Living on the streets
obviously is never easy, but she had always had Grover, he'd always
been her ray of sunshine. He'd pick a flower from the Botanical Gardens
for her, or find a funny story in an old newspaper. He could always tell
when she was down and he'd always be there with a joke, a smile, a warm
arm to lean on. But now he was gone, like so many others they'd known.
She'd never thought they'd take him, Rosa and Grover were unlike the
others. Why would they want to harm either of them? Of course she'd
heard the rumours, mostly too fantastical to be believed, probably just
an attempt to scare Rosa off the territory of the other beggars. The
others, they'd hang out in big groups for safety, bully the crowds,
bully for money, or scraps. But she and Grover had always kept to
themselves, apparently it made no difference. Now he was gone and she
was alone.

Last year they'd lost their squat, the old hotel was demolished and big
apartments for the rich were built there. It was one of the last places
they could go, warm, still had old curtains and carpets... anyway. no
use thinking about it all now. Now she had nothing, hewas gone and so
was their home and now she was curling up in subway stairs waiting for
cops to come and move her along. And it was so cold now. Winter was here
and it always got her down, sitting on the cement chilled her to the
bone, she could never get warm.

She lay there, curled up against the yellow tiles, oblivious to the
scent of piss that permeated the stone. Off in the distance she could
hear a group of young boys heading on to a pub, she crept further down
into the stairwell, not wanting to attract attention, resettling on a
lower step, wanting to catch a few hours sleep atleast, just a little
rest. She kept thinking about Grover, tried to imagine his warm smile
hovering over her, protecting her, tried to think of things he might say
to her, things to make her feel less lonely, after a while these
thoughts seemed to work, she felt the cold pushed away a little and
drifted off into a light sleep.

The transit guards generally were too lazy to bother leaving their post
at night. Why leave the warm security office, with the news screen
hacked to entertainment channels and a pot of hot coffee on the burner?
But they did love to harrass the homeless, especially ones like Rosa, on
her own, not too crazy, not going to put up a fight. And so, after an
hour or so of sleep, Rosa awoketo the bellow of the fat guard, climbing
up the stairwell and kicking at her to get a move on. She gathered her
blankets around her quickly trying to wrap herself up without falling
over and stumbling up the steps, she was reaching the surface, when she
realised there was something cutting into her hand, she looked down at
her hand clutching onto her blankets. But wraped into her bony fingers,
there was a rose bud.

The guard had already tired of her and disappeared back into the well of
light that lumed from the station. Rosa was so astounded by the little
flower she stumbled onto the last step and sat there, astonished at the
beautiful rose... Where had it come from? Why? who would give her such a
thing. Of course it was too tempting NOT to think it was Grover,
somehow, giving her a gift. but her heart wrenched at the thought - Why
would he visit her but not wake her up? Why wouldn't he stay? And so she
pushed those thoughts out of her mind. No, it couldn't be him. It had to
have been some stranger, maybe just a kind person... maybe. It had to
be. She carefully folded the little bloom into a top buttonhole, it's
scent rising up, warming her heart, giving her the courage she once had
to brave the world again. Standing herself upright and carefully
assessing the street for dangers, she wrapped herself tightly, securely,
and made her way down the street.

She passed the old post office, a great row of columns rising up in
massive scale from it's stone steps, she knew others would be there, she
wouldn't be welcome and so kept moving on. Further up, she turned into
an alley, where a few shoppers were looking in darkened shop windows at
the odd little ornaments and accessories. This was one of Rosa's
favourite places; the magic of the doll shop, the little porcelain faces
looking out at her with such wisdom and serenity. The ornate brooches
and scarves of the next shop, such fine filigree work in the silver
brooches and luminous silken designs on the scarves she imagined to be
so very soft, though of course she'd never touched one of them herself.
A little way further she knew she would find one of Grovers favourites:
The model shop, with it's little painted cars and motorcycles from all
the eras. Grover loved the old war planes the best for some reason, he
seemed excited only by the oldest of machines, the newer rockets and
gliders not interesting him much. He said it was because he loved
machines, real ones that clicked and whirred and had a weight to them,
not like cars now that seemed so light they would break in a moments
misfortune.

As Rosa walked further down the alley, she realised she had come too far
for the little model shop and turned back. She was always having these
problems, getting distracted by her thoughts, missing places, forgetting
which street came first, or how far along the shop front would be. But
as she walked back past the little windows, again she got the feeling
she'd gone too far. So once more she turned back toward her original
direction. A couple who had been looking in a window on the opposite
side, made a nasty comment and quickly walked away, but Rosa ignored
them, used to the shunning of the general public. She was much more
concerned with finding her beloved friend's treasured window. This time
she walked slower, noting each shop window and whether she recognised
it. First there was a women's clothing store, it always had colourful
hair pieces, next was the tea room with the old green wallpaper, always
smelt like cake when it was open. Next was a tiny shoe repair stall,
split with a cigarette shop that used to give Grover old newspapers that
customers had forgotten. Then she was at the Barber and she knew she'd
come too far, She kept walking just a little further, just to make sure
and yes, there were the two cafe's and the entrance to some apartments
above before the alleyway opened onto the next main street. So she
turned back again, this time her heart beating ever faster, clutching
the little rosebud that was still tucked beneath her chin. How could the
shop be gone? She looked frantically on both sides of the alley now -
was this the right place? Had she lost her mind? Was she forgetting her
city so easily? Back again to the Barber, the shoe repair, and then she
noticed it, the empty space next to the tea rooms. The old wooden store
front had been boarded off. How could she have missed it before? The
place must have gone out of business.

Rosa stood before the little shop front, horrified. One last memory she
had of Grover and it had been removed, erased, leaving her with no trace
of her old friend. She crumpled to the ashphalt, her head against the
light plywood that had been so neatly installed over the window, she
felt as though her heart were caving in, sinking into the ground and
dragging her under too. There was no place to go, no place to be, she
felt everything had been taken from her and noone in the world cared
anymore. She lay there weeping, ignoring the jeers from passersby, her
body hunched over, her chest heaving with the sorrow and the pain of
losing her last friend.

It seemed a while later, morning she supposed. Sunlight hit her eyes,
beginning to warm her face, she must have fallen asleep exahausted,
right there in the alleyway. Still too early for shop keepers to come
into the city, it was that dead hour of dawn when the city is it's
quietest. Something moved behind her and her head fell back hard,
hitting something wooden. She tried to pull herself up, her old
uncooperative body twinging with pain as she leant on the wall to get
some leverage. She soon noticed how dark it still was, the sun still had
not risen, but there was light from behind her, as her eyes adjusted she
could not believe what she was seeing; unfolding before her, the window
had returned.

The stark plywood was gone and behind it the ornate wooden framing of
the old glass window had been restored, but even more magnificent, was
the light, pouring out onto the pavement with golden warmth. Rosa could
see the models of those old war planes appearing one by one, she
gradually discerned them hanging from the shops rafters. Then the
shelves of old cars, each one with it's carefully placed card describing
the model, year and make or each one. Then the carpeting and cabinets
appeared before her, and so on, and so on. The shop was assembling
itself before her eyes. Rosa glanced down the street, she needed a
witness, she needed confirmation from someone else that this was not a
dream, that she was not crazy. But the streets remained dark and empty
as she stood there in the glow of the little window, watching the model
shop spring to life. Finally, the light dissipated and as though
awakening from a daze, she straightened herself up, hearing something
drop to the ground. It was a metallic sound like a coin or a ring, she
looked to her feet and saw, lying on the cold ashpphalt an old fashioned
key, very heavy looking. She picked it up and she knew it was just like
the old brass lock of the shop door.

Rosa didn't understand, not right away, it was too much to comprehend,
too much of a jump emotionally, to take in what she was seeing. But
without her knowing it, her hand had reached up to her top button and
pulled free the little rosebud, she stared at it for what seemed like
the longest time, admiring it's beauty in the remaining golden light.
Then just as she was realising perhaps, believing perhaps, the rosebud
bloomed, unnaturally before her eyes. It's pink petals spread open in
perfect beauty. And she knew.

She dropped the blankets where she stood, her back straightening without
the weight. Her free hand slipped the key smoothly into the lock. Rosa
stopped only a moment inside the doorway to flip the sign inside the
door, letting the customers know her shop was now open for business.