Victims

December 20, 1996

Chris huddled next to the Dumpster behind Barnes & Noble. This one didn't smell as bad as the others and it was out of the wind. Maybe he could catch a nap before...great. It was starting to snow. /Thanks a fucking lot, Mom and Dad!/ Chris thought. /Have a merry fucking Christmas while your youngest son freezes to death!/ He wondered if it would be a good idea to actually get in the Dumpster. Would the garbage truck come in the morning?

"Alright, kid hand it over!" a man was saying as Chris felt something sharp poke him in the ribs.

"Ha-hand what over?" he asked nervously, too scared to turn around.

"Oh, don't give me that shit!" said the man's voice. "All you greasy runaways always steal Daddy's wallet before you hit the streets! I want it!"

"I-I don't know what you're talkin' about, man! I ain't got a cent!" Chris' parents barely let him have five minutes to pack before tossing him out of the house.

"You're a liar, kid! Now cough it up or get six inches of steel between the ribs!"

Before Chris could scream, a purple streak bolted out of the Dumpster, soared over Chris' head and tackled the mugger. The mugger grunted in pain as his knife clattered onto the pavement. Chris backed into a corner and watched weak kneed as he saw his rescuer get to her (he was pretty sure it was a her) feet and pull the struggling mugger up to face her. Chris had seen enough of the news to know that this tall being was a gargoyle. She was speaking to the mugger. Chris didn't know gargoyles could speak.

"You know, I had a tough evening." she was saying. "After taking down five purse snatchers, two car jackers and a rapist, I thought I had earned a little break and could relax a bit with Lady Godiva and Mercedes Lackey. But you!" She started punctuating her words by slamming the man against a brick wall. "Just! Couldn't! Let me!" Her eyes were glowing red and the mugger was pale white with fear. With a growl, the gargoyle hurled the mugger across the ally where he landed in a pile. She then dusted her hands as if she had handled something nasty and pinched at something dangling from her neck. "Elisa? Angela here. Got a mugger behind the Barnes & Noble on East 17th Street. He's out cold." She looked over at Chris, who couldn't seeme to stop shaking. "He's fine, all things considered." A pause. "Elisa, really! Have I killed anyone yet?" Another pause. "Oh, he's fine. It's not my fault he still has nightmares. Alright, I'll check." The gargoyle (Angela, her name was?) checked the mugger's pulse. "He's alive. You come lock him up. I'll see if this guy needs any help. Angela out."

She was coming towards him. Chris panicked and grabbed the knife laying at his feet. "D-don't come any closer!" he warned, his hands trembling as he held out the knife. She paused to give him a bemused look, then came closer all the same. "I-I'm warning you! Don't think I won't!"

The knife was plucked from his hands and carelessly tossed in the Dumpster. "You know, it would be very nice if you humans said 'thank you' every once in a while. I think I saw a copy of Emily Post's /Etiquette/ in there. Want me to get it for you?"

Gargoyles could not only talk, but they could read? "Y-you can read?"

"Yes. I learned how from a princess who lives on a magical island."

"Sure. Why not?" Chris was willing to believe anything at this point.

"Oh, here I am lecturing you on manners and forgetting mine. Sorry." She extended a lavender, taloned hand. "My name is Angela. Wanna be friends?"

Chris tentivly took the hand. "My name is Chris." he said. "Chris Packard. And I think I'd rather have you as a friend than an enemy."

"Do you have any place to stay, Chris?"

Chris gave an ironic smile and spread his arms. "You're lookin' at it."

"Well, Chris, I know a place you can stay. It's not the Hilton, but you'll be warm and safe."

"What's my other option?"

"I won't force you to come with me. You can stay here until my friend shows up. She's a police officer. You can go to the station and file a statement if you wish."

"Cops, huh? They'll probably make me call my parents."

"Don't you think your parents are worried about you?"

"You kiddin'? I'm not a runaway, I'm a throwaway! My parents told me to get my shit and leave as soon as they found my porn stash."

"That's no reason to abandon a child."

"Oh, did I mention it was gay porn? That's right, I'm a flippin' fairy!"

"You're a member of the third race?"

"A member of wha? No, no, I'm gay, a fag, queer, light in the loafers, swishy, a butt pirate, batting for the other team, a queen, a Hershey highwayman....you get it?"

"Yes, I get it. And there's nothing wrong with it. I met a hairdresser last Halloween who was like that and he seemed nice. I have a friend that I suspect may be gay and just needs the courage to admit it. And I have two brothers who are very much in love."

"Brothers? OK, there's kinky and then there's just plain freaky!"

"Oh, they're not brothers like humans think of brothers. We were just raised together."

"Oh. Like a foster family, huh? Speaking of which, if I go with the police, they'll put me in foster care, won't they?"

"I'm not that familiar with human laws, but, based on what I've seen on the Lifetime Network, most likely."

"Guess I'll go with you then."

"Oh, before we go...." Angela nimbly leapt back into the dumpster and came back with a paperback novel with the cover torn off and a box of chocolates. "I noticed you have a backpack. Could you carry this book for me? I'd like to finish it and I hate to see good chocolate go to waste." She opened the box. "Have one? It's Godiva, the good stuff."

Chris picked out a piece and looked at it. It was dark colored, slightly discolored with light splotches. "Kinda weird lookin'."

"The coa-coa butter just settled. It's still good." She ate one herself. "Mmm...coconut."

Chris ate the piece. Vanilla butter cream. It was delicious and he wasn't dead.

"Let's put them both in your pack before we pig out." Angela suggested. Chris nodded and unzipped his pack. Angela caught a glimpse of a sketchbook. "You draw?"

"Yeah, a little. I used to wanna be a comic book artist."

"Used to?"

"Well, let's face it. I can pretty much kiss art college good-bye now." Chris started putting the items in his bag. "Now, my big brother, Jim the Jock, can go wherever he wants. He has stacks of girlie mags under his bed and nasty ass stuff on his computer, but Dad just shrugs and says 'Oh, boys'll be boys.' All I had was a /Playgirl/, a body builder mag and one Photoshopped download of Brad Pitt and I was told to hit the road." He zipped the bag. "Sorry to dump all of this on you, Angela, but I've been pretty pissed off lately."

"You have a right to be." she said sympatheticly. "No parent should ever deny their child protection. Maybe you can show me your drawings later. But, we must be going." She looked at the sky. "It's stopped snowing." She licked a taloned finger and held it up. "Wind's going the right way."

"Wind?"

"Are you afraid of heights, Chris?"

"N-no." he replied uneasily.

"Do you get airsick?"

"W-well, I don't know. I've never flown before." Chris gave a short laugh. "Unless the rides at Coney Island count." Chris immediately stopped laughing. Coney Island reminded him of the family that claimed to love him, but really didn't.

"Do you get sick on those?"

"No."

"Good. If you do, try not to get it on me. I already had a guy pee on me tonight." She turned her back to him and crouched. "It will be easiest if you get on my back."

"Whoa, wait, you can fly?"

"More like controlled gliding." She turned her head and smiled at him as she unfurled her wings. "You didn't think these were for decoration, did you?"

"I don't know." said Chris. "Mom warned me about going off with strangers with candy."

"Same mother who drove you out of your home?"

"Point." Chris slung his pack on his back and mustered up his courage before positioning himself on the gargoyle's back, putting his arms around her neck. She stood and approached the wall. "Oh, one more thing, Chris, try not to scream. It hurts my ears when people do that." She dug her talons into the wall and started climbing.

"I don't believe this." Chris gasped.

"That is why you fail." Angela smiled. "/Star Wars/ reference!" She climbed to the top of the building, stood on the ledge and spread her wings. "Hang on tight! Here we go!" She took off in a graceful swan dive. Chris bit his lip to stifle the urge to scream as he kept a white knuckle grip on Angela. He opened his eyes to find the wind rushing past him and the city passing by under him.

"Whoa...Oh my God! Oh my God, I'm flying!" Chris didn't know whether to be excited or scared witless.

"I can show you the world," Angela sang. "Shining, shimmering splendid...You know, the man who wrote that song was gay, so you're in good company, Chris."

Chris smiled. "This is so fucking awesome." he decided. He felt free. The wind was holding him and his new friend up. The city that had seemed so big and cold before was now a row of brightly lit toys slipping by. All too soon, they gently started losing altitude and Angela landed near an abandonned subway entrance.

"Come on." she urged, going inside. "It's called the Labyrinth for a good reason, so stay near me."

"Labyrinth, huh?" Chris followed her down the stairs. "Like that movie with David Bowie?"

She chuckled. "Yeah, like the movie. You won't find any goblin kings in leather pants down here, though."

"Darn my luck!" Chris said, snapping his fingers. They walked for a while. "So," said Chris, trying to make conversation. "You, um, had a guy pee on you tonight?"

"He was trying to force himself on a woman who was screaming for him to stop. I swooped down on him and carried him off just as he was whipping it out. His screams nearly busted my eardrums and he wet himself, if you please. Got some of it on me, which I didn't care for one bit. I told him he was disgusting and pathetic. I touched down in Central Park and stripped him down."

"And had your way with him?"

"Ugh, and sully myself with him? No. I just wanted him to know terror and humiliation. I let him keep his soiled boxers and took the rest of his clothes back here to the Labyrinth. There's always someone in need of new clothes here."

"Isn't it supposed to get to below freezing tonight?"

"Not my problem. Well, Maggie showed me where to clean up and I went back out. I thought I'd take a break behind Barnes & Nobel. Their Dumpster usually has two of my favorite things; chocolate and books. And that's how I met you."

"You got any kids, Angela?"

She laughed. "Oh, no, I'm much too young!"

"You don't look all that much older than I am. Girls my age and even younger get preggers sometimes."

"Well, a female gargoyle can't get, erm, 'preggers' until she's 50. I'm not quite 40."

"You don't look that old."

"Gargoyles age half the speed of humans." she told him.

"So, you can't have kids until you reach, like 25. That sounds good. You don't get stuck with a kid until you might be ready for one. Y'know, you'd probably make a good mom."

"Thank you." she said with a smile. "I have friend who has a baby named Alex. And Maggie will have a baby this summer. But, I'll just have to wait." She smiled. "I already have a mate who would make an excellant father."

"A mate? Is that like a boyfriend or something?"

"I guess you could say that." said Angela. They came to what seemed to be a door, but it was covered in wires, lights and mechanical things that Chris couldn't identify. "Here we are. I'll just ring the doorbell." She pressed a button, causing a loud "EEEOOO...EEEOOO...." noise to fill the small space.

Soon, the noise stopped and a panel opened on the door to reveal a pair of eyes. "What's the password?" a man's voice demanded.

"Al," Angela sighed. "It's me."

"Uh-huh." challenged the voice. "And how do I know you ain't some clone or robot duplicate saying you're you?" Chris did a double take. Clone? Robot duplicate? Did he just step into a comic book?

"Al, It's really me, Angela." she said patiently. "I was here earlier, remember? I gave you a new winter coat."

"Look, Angela, if you are Angela, I'm sorry, but you know we've had to tighten security since that incident last Halloween!"

"Fine!" Angela sighed. "I can't believe I have to do this twice in one night!" She gave a resigned sigh and clapped her hands rhythmicly. "Miss Lucy had a steamboat, the steamboat had a bell. Miss Lucy went to Heaven, the steamboat went to hello operator, give me number nine, and if you disconnect me, I will chop off your behind the 'fridgerator, there was a piece of glass. Miss Lucy sat upon it, and she cut her big fat ask me no more questions, I'll tell you no more lies. The boys are in the bathroom, pulling down their flies are in the meadow. The bees are in the park. Miss Lucy and her boyfriend, Are kissing in the dark is like a movie. A movie's like a show. A show is like a TV set and that is all I know." Chris tried in vain to stifle his giggles.

The door opened, revealing Al to be an aging man in tattered clothes, save for a fairly new looking winter coat. "Come in, Angela." he said. "Who's the kid?"

"Al, this is Chris. He needs someplace to stay. Chris, this is Al. He's a big help down here in the Labyrinth."

"How ya doin', kid?" Al shook his hand.

"Considering my parents threw me out of their house, not bad."

"Gar-girl!" Chris nearly screamed like a girl and ran when he saw the huge, lumbering peach-colored behemoth running towards them, a broken beer bottle in one hand. "Got present...for Gar-girl!" He said haltingly, offering the broken bottle as if it were roses for the Queen.

Angela forced a smile and gingerly took the broken bottle. "Why, thank you, Hollywood." she said uneasily. "That's very, um, thoughtful. Al, are Talon and Maggie around?"

"Maggie ain't been feelin' too well." said Al. "But, I can get Boss-Cat for ya in a jiffy. Wait right here. Hollywood! C'mon!" The big gargoyle that had been eyeballing Angela reluctantly followed the old man.

"Wish there was somewhere I could toss this." Angela said, distastefully eyeing the bottle. "I don't want to leave it where some little kid could hurt themselves on it."

"Cute song you did." Chris said with a smile.

"You should've seen last weeks password. You had to snap your fingers and sing the first verse and chorus of 'Da Doo Ron Ron'." The siren of a doorbell went off again. "I'll get it." Angela looked through the panel. "Password?"

"Aw, geeze, Angela!" said a scantily clad woman with a Brooklyn accent. "Don't make me do that stupid song!"

"Come in, Bambi."

Bambi came in. "New boyfriend, Angela?" she asked, looking at Chris.

"No, this is Chris. He's going to be staying here a while. Chris, this is Bambi."

"Hey, kid. So, Angela, you lookin' for a bar fight or somethin'?"

"Oh, you mean this?" Angela pointed at the bottle. "Oh, this is another one of Hollywood's ideas of a present. I have to have a talk with him sometime."

"Let him down easy, kid. Here, I'll toss that for ya." She took the bottle. "By the way, Lace's is hiring. Wanna make a few bucks?"

"Oh, come on, Bambi!" Angela scoffed at the very idea. "I don't need money and the guys at Lace's would pay me to keep my clothes on."

"Eh, some guys like something a little exotic." Bambi smiled at Chris. "What's your pleasure, sweet thing?"

"Brad Pitt in a banana hamock."

"Oh." Bambi said, knowingly. "Well, Angela, you should at least let me teach you the moves some night. You can give Broadway a thrill." She winked at her.

"That-that's OK, Bambi."

"Hey, you let that Erin kid teach you that hip-hop crap."

"That's different. Speaking of which, where is Erin? Or Benny?"

"Eh, it's late. Tasha probably made them go to bed." Bambi yawned and stretched. "Which is where I'm going. I got class /and/ rehab tomorrow." She walked away. "Night, youse."

"Good night, Bambi." Angela waved to her. She felt something rub against her leg. "Well, I haven't seen you in a while!" Angela picked up the fluffy gray cat.

"Guess there's all kinds down here." said Chris, petting the purring feline.

Tiny mews filled the air and the cat leapt from Angela's arms. "Oh, Grizzabella, your kittens are up and walking!" Angela and Chris got on the floor and played with kittens for awhile. Chris saw a tall figure aproach them. As it came closer, Chris' jaw dropped as he saw a six foot tall black panther with wings approach. Dry mouthed with fear, he tapped Angela. She glanced up and casually said, "Oh, hi, Talon."

"Al tells me you brought someone new." said Talon.

"Yes, Talon, this is Chris. He really doesn't have anywhere to go. Can he stay here?"

"There's always room for one more in the Labyrinth." said Talon. He rifled through a nearby box. "I think I saw...yeah, here it is!" He took out a patched and mended sleeping bag. "Here, Chris. It ain't much, but it's clean and will keep you warm." He handed the bedding over to the teenager.

"Hey, thanks." said Chris.

"Talon, how's Maggie?" asked Angela.

"Well as can be expected." he answered. "Threw up only twice today. Recently, she ate a pepperoni and jalepeño pizza topped with Gummi Bears and went to sleep. Oh, and Fang's loose again."

"Is he still dangerous, you think?"

"I wouldn't trust him further than I'd throw him. I hope Thug's OK. He was on guard duty at the time."

"How are Erin and Benny? They're usually the first ones running up to me whenever I come here."

"Haven't seen them in awhile. Or Tasha. Maybe Tasha finally saved up enough for an apartment like she's been talking about and took Erin and Benny with her."

"I hope so." said Angela. "Still, I'm sure Benny and Erin would want to say good-bye first."

"That's the way it is, Angela." said Talon. "Once people get a chance to get off the streets, they jump at it and try to forget where they used to be."

"Maybe that's for the best." Angela sighed. "Come on, Chris. I'll help you find someplace to lay your sleeping bag. See you later, Talon." She waved good-bye and walked away with Chris.

They found a niche in the wall that was once a bench for people waiting for the subway. "This is as good as any." Chris layed out the bag, sat down and started taking off his shoes.

"You might want to keep an eye on those." Angela advised.

"They're not mad expensive or anything." said Chris.

"Down here, Chris, a lot of people don't have much in the way of clothes or shoes." Angela explained. "And a few kleptomaniacs live around here. They're sick; they can't help it. And then there's the clones."

"Clones?"

"Like Hollywood. There's fi-uh-four who live down here. They have trouble learning wrong from right. Malibu tends to pick up things, play with them and then misplace them."

"I'll just put my shoes in my bag, then." Chris opened his backpack.

"Can I look at your sketchbook?" Angela asked.

Chris let her have the book. "They're nothing special." he said.

"I like this one!" Angela pointed at a pen and ink Chinese dragon.

"Really?"

"Yeah!" Angela turned the page to see a sketch of a muscular looking satyr with a smoldering expression on his face. "That's really good. Reminds me a bit of Boris Vallejo."

"Oh, c'mon, I could only hope to be that good!" Chris scoffed.

Angela looked at more sketches, drawings and studies. "You're really, good at this, Chris. You know, my brother Jophiel is a bit of an artist too. Sculpture, mostly. There wasn't much paper on Avalon. Sometimes, I'd see him sketch something on a stone wall with chalk or draw something in the sand with a stick. It wouldn't be long before he and Aindreas would be off to the mountains to find a good chunk of marble so Jophiel could make his image real." Chris gave a jaw-cracking yawn. "I'm sorry, am I boring you?"

"Nah, I'm just tired."

"Well, you go to sleep then." Angela said as she got up. Chris positioned himself in the sleeping bag and made a pillow of his backpack.

"Hey, here's your candy and book." he offered her the items.

Angela took the book, but said "You keep the chocolates. You need them more than I do."

"Thanks, Angela." Chris prepared himself for sleep.

Angela zipped up the bag for him. "Good-night, Chris." She gave him a kiss on the forehead.

"Don't I get a lullaby?" Chris asked with a smile.

"Speed bonnie boat like a bird on the wing...." Angela sang.

"I was kidding."

"Good-night." She left him.

A/N: Howard Ashman wrote many of the lyrics to the songs for Disney's /Aladdin/ including a few that got cut from the production. He died halfway through the project and was replaced by Tim Rice, who wrote "A Whole New World". Let's just suppose that Angela was misinformed.
The song Angela starts to sing as a lullaby to Chris is "The Skye Boat Song". It's a Scottish lullaby about Bonnie Prince Charlie, but it reminds me quite a bit of the exodus to Avalon.