Indigent
 
Author: Eileen Thomson

E-mail: indigotoast@yahoo.com

Summary: Holidaze Challenge using the words, ornate flask, riot and
full moon.
 
Authors notes: Thanks go to Suz and Linda for their beta-reads. They
take my fanciful imagination and pound it into a readable piece.
Linda keeps me right on idioms and poor Suz gets to fix my lousy
grammar and tweak the story line. You're the best.

--+--

Nick enters the office of LSP glad just to be out of the cold. He
stops, and taking off his gloves, rubs his hands together to get
them warm. Looking towards Lulu's office, he sees that she is still
not back from vacation. He knocks on the door of Alvin's office.
Alvin holds his hand up for him to wait while he finishes talking.

"Anything for me?" Nick asks as Alvin hangs up.

"Erik Karbava, indigent. He's in your office. The cops found him
this morning sleeping at the back of this building and brought him
in. See if you can find him somewhere to stay until Social Services
can catch up with him. This place is bedlam this time of year. Why
do holidays bring out all the nuts?"

"I'm on it boss," Nick jokes with Alvin, pulling a face as he speaks.

The man stands up as Nick and Alvin enter the office and Nick is
taken aback at the height of the man. He must be at least 6'5", and
in the small office space he seems to be the same in width. His
clothes are the brightest Nick has ever seen. They are a riot of
color. His shirt is scarlet with bright blue and white stripes with
multi colored birds in the white stripes, his jacket is royal blue
and the top coat he has hanging over the chair is a deep red. He
stands with his mouth slightly open, giving him a vacant expression.

Alvin touches Erik's arm and says, "This is Mr. Nicholas Fallin. He
is your attorney. He is going to help you. Good luck, Mr. Fallin."
Alvin leaves with a smirk on his face, making Nick feels he has just
been handed the proverbial pig in a poke.

"Please sit, Erik. May I call you Erik?" Nick realizes that his
client is mentally handicapped. He deliberately makes his tone
friendly and gentle.

"I came to find Harry, he's my cousin. When I find him I'll get a
job and go live with him." Erik states his case as if he had
rehearsed it.

"Where did you come from?" Nick asks him.

"Allentown. That's where I lived when my Mat wasn't dead. Can you
help me find Harry, Mr. Nicholas Fallin? Then he'll let me live with
him and I'll have done what Mat said to do." His face creased into a
big grin and Nick felt a tug on his heart for this huge man.

"Who is Mat? Is he your brother?"

"Mat's my mom. She died three weeks ago and I came to find Harry,
but I didn't do like I was told and I lost the paper. Now I don't
know where he lives. Will you help me find Harry, Mr. Nicholas
Fallin?" Tears glisten in the gentle man's eyes. "I wish I'd done
what my Mat told me."

"Erik, please call me Nick. Let's see if you have any kind of
knowledge about where Harry is. Then we'll take it from there." Nick
looks at Erik's hand and notices they are scrubbed clean. "Where do
you go to wash Erik?"

"I have to keep clean," he states simply. "Mat said. So I go to the
bus station. That's where I got off when I came from Allentown."

Nick takes information from Erik and discovers that his cousin works
in a laundry. `A big one.' Nick's not sure what a big laundry
constitutes but he is willing to try. First he must find a place for
Erik to stay.

Three hours later and Nick is having no luck. He has phoned homeless
shelters, churches, and welfare organizations, but there is no where
for Erik to go.

"I'm going to sleep at the back of the building." Erik says when
Nick tells him he has had no success. "Then I can come in tomorrow
and you can find Harry. All right Mr. Nicholas Fallin?"

"As soon as the building opens I'll be here for you. I'll bring you
something to eat and we'll try to find Harry, I promise." Nick is
loath to have the man leave but there is simply nothing to be done
for him.

After Erik leaves, Nick sits with the phone book and compiles a list
of laundries in the city. He starts with the private ones, and then
lists the ones attached to hospitals. He sits, trying to think of
any other places where laundry would be done. *I'll phone and ask
Laurie. If anyone knows these things, she will.*

~*~

Lying on his back and just surfacing from sleep, Nick is attempting
to think what has wakened him. His eyes pop open and he leaps out of
bed. The room is bright and when he gets to the window he can see
that snow has fallen and the streets are covered. *Erik. Oh God,
what will you do? Come on, Nick, do something.* He stands shivering,
his body covered in Goosebumps. *Gerry! I'll phone Gerry.* Gerry had
been a close friend ever since they had worked together against the
Unions defending charity workers. Gerry is a mine of information
about all charity groups in Pittsburgh.

The phone rings on and on until finally Nick hears the sleepy voice
answer. "Nick Fallin, you had better be dying and want me to be one
of your pallbearers or I'm for sure going to kill you," Gerry grunts
into the phone. He was going to ignore it, but when he saw the
caller ID said `Nick' he thought it might be urgent.

"Do you have any spare clothes?"

"Mine won't fit you," Gerry says sarcastically. "I'm 6'4 and you're
a midget. Is this about the tie? I'll give it back."

"Gerry, listen to me." Nick tells him about Erik and tells him what
he is going to do.

"You know, good works will get you a bad name," his friend tells
him, but with pride in his tone.

"Cut it out, Gerry! Help me, or stop being sarcastic."

"Get out of bed, Mr. Nicholas Fallin," he says echoing Erik's most
annoying habit. "I'm coming over in the SUV. The snow is fresh, and
your Tonka toy is not good for these roads. Let's go find Erik
Krabava."

~*~

Driving on the fresh snow is easy for the SUV and Nick is happy to
be a passenger. When they get to the LSP building, Nick and Gerry
both get out and look up the back alley to see if they can see Erik.

"There's no one here," Gerry says. "Can you see anyone?"

"Erik," Nick shouts up the street.

"Are you looking for me, Mr. Nicholas Fallin?" Erik rises from a
bundle of boxes behind Nick.

"Erik! You scared the living daylights out of me." Nick is holding
his hand over his madly racing heart. "Don't sneak up on people like
that. Come with us. This is my friend, Gerry. We're taking you to a
hotel for a few days. Just until we have time to find Harry. I don't
want you on the streets in this weather." Nick didn't say he
couldn't bear the thought, that his inability to find Erik a place
to stay had haunted him all the evening before. *And I'm not able to
face up to the fact that you may die of hypothermia. I don't want
that on my conscience.*

~*~

Once Erik is settled in the small family hotel, Nick and Gerry turn
to leave.

"Mr. Nicholas Fallin, my Mat told me I had to keep this until I
found a kind person to take care of it. She said it would help me
and Harry to be together, even if I couldn't find a job." Erik lifts
up his bright shirt and Nick sees he is not so well built as he had
first thought. Under the shirt is a large canvas bag flattened and
rolled round Erik's stomach and tied in front. He unties it and
hands it to Nick.

Sitting on the bed Nick unrolls the bundle. In it he finds documents
dating back to December 1917. Also there are three wills dating back
from that time and including Erik's mother's will. He can't
understand them as they are all written in Russian. He removes the
lumpy bundle and opens it. He looks blankly at the object in his
hand. It is an ornate flask covered in pink enamel, encrusted with
stones. *It's not what you think it is, Nick. Stop being fanciful,*
but his heart dances in salsa rhythm just the same.

"Holy shit!" Gerry reaches over and takes the object from Nick's
hand and says in a hushed voice, "Faberge."

"I… I thought it was, but, Gerry!" Nick is speechless. Pointing to
the top papers he indicates towards them. "Look I think these are
providence documents. We need a translator." Fingers nipping at his
bottom lip he looks at Gerry and changing his mind he says, "No
first we need someone who knows antiques. Then we need a translator.

"Will you sort it for me, Mr. Nicholas Fallin? Will it help to find
Harry? I want to go home to Harry soon. I'm frightened now. I was
very cold, and I need to find Harry, Mr. Nicholas Fallin."

"What time is it?" Nick asks. "I've forgotten my watch."

"Just after Midnight." They look at each other and say
together, "Michael."

"You phone him and get him up. It's something you're good at," Gerry
prods Nick.

~*~

"You want me to put his picture in the paper with the headline, `I'm
looking for Harry.' You'll be inundated with hoax calls. Are you
crazy?"

Looking at the big man sitting open-mouthed staring at the pictures
in the magazine they had given him, Nick says, "Sadly, I don't think
anyone who doesn't know him will come forward, but I think Harry
will. We have to try."

"On your head be it then." Michael turns and says, "Erik, can you
come over here and I'll get this man to take your photo. Can you
smile for him?"

~*~

Erik settles into the hotel for the night. He takes a picture from
his pocket and puts it on the side of the bed.

"Who is that?" Nick asks kindly

"Noushka, I miss her most of all. I wish I had her with me." Great
tears fall down the giant's face and Nick is at a loss what to
do. "The manager has promised to give you breakfast before you
leave," he tells Erik. It's all he can do for the man at the moment.

Erik nods sadly, his mind already lost in thoughts of Noushka. He
has also agreed to let Nick take away the flask and the papers.

Sitting in the car, Nick turns to Gerry. "Can you even imagine what
this is worth if it is Faberge? We're running round in the middle of
the night with an object which could be worth $1 million dollars.
That's scary! We need to find some one who can tell us if this thing
is real."

"Well, I know one of the professors at Pitt. This time I'll phone. I
would make you do it, but he would hang up on you. He's the guy
whose wife took a shine to you at that last fundraiser."

"Hey, that's not my fault," Nick spluttered with laughter,
remembering the elderly matron who would not leave him alone. "I
remember how terrified I was she would bid to have a dinner with me."

~*~

"It's three in the morning and I can't imagine why you would think I
would be glad to see you."

Saying nothing, Nick unwraps the flask and puts it on the coffee
table in front of them.

Professor Wright stares at it, his mouth working, but no sound
coming forth. "It can't be! Oh God it's one of the Zabav Prosada
flasks! You do have the other one?"

"No, but I think I maybe could find it," Nick says. Gerry looks at
him in puzzlement.

"Share, pal. Where do you think the other one is?"

"Gerry, if they have had them since they came from Russia, then it's
not unreasonable to assume the other one is with Harry. Neither
flask has ever been heard of since they were made, so none of then
were ever sold. We'll find out the day after tomorrow when the ad
runs in the paper."

~*~

Two days later, Harry walks into LSP and calmly asks for his cousin.
Nick is sent for, and he soon realizes that Harry, too, is mentally
impaired. He is suspicious, and he refuses to speak to Nick. When
Nick asks about the flask, Harry clams up completely. Nick knows he
should have waited for Erik.

When Erik is brought into the room the two men pound each other on
the backs and, because of their size the room seems smaller. Erik,
speaking in Russian tells Harry about the flask and Harry pulls up
his shirt and reveals an identical bag. Nick marvels at the
ludicrous idea of two men wandering round with irreplaceable pieces
of Faberge round their waists.

~*~

Nick lies in bed, but sleep won't come. The sale is expected to net
over $5 million dollars, because of the rarity. The pair is intact
and in pristine condition. The items are so rare the bidding is
going to be fierce. The flasks were ordered for the two men's
maternal great grandfather who then fled to America with them and
his family. Why he had never sold them, no-one could fathom. Fallin
and Fallin would be guardians of the money for both Erik and Harry.
A house had been quickly bought and they were moved in. Everything
was right with the world. *Then Nick, what is it that keeps you
awake?*

~*~

"Nick for God's sake it two in the morning! Don't you ever sleep
these days?" Gerry is sleep deprived and testy. "What do you want
this time?"

When Nick tells him, Gerry laughs uproariously. "I swear I will dine
out on this for years to come. Can I take it you phoned the poor
woman and got her out of bed as well?"

"She didn't laugh at me," Nick says huffily.

"I wouldn't miss this for the world. I'll pick you up in an hour and
I will drive you to Harrisburg." Still laughing Gerry hangs up the
phone.

~*~

"Well, off you go then. We came all the way from Harrisburg, go and
finish this." Gerry still can't resist a poke at his friend.

"Come with me. I feel stupid now." Nick says rubbing his chin.

Knocking on the door of Erik and Harry Krabava, Nick stands shyly to
one side. When the door opens, Gerry steps in and says to the two
men, "Nick has a surprise for you. Close your eyes and hold out your
hands."

Nick sideswipes him as he passes, but finds the two men just like
children with their hands out. He gently deposits the two tiny
Blackberry Black Russian Terrier puppies, one in Harry's out
stretched hand and then another in Eriks. "Merry Christmas," he says.

When he opens his eyes tears run down Erik's cheeks. "You brought me
another one. She isn't Noushka. What did you call her?"

"Call her what you wish, she's yours."

"I'm calling mine Mishka," Harry rubs the small dog on his grizzled
chin and in a sing song voice whispers, "Mishka, Mishka."

"Please Mr. Nicholas Fallin, what is her name?" Erik stands with the
tiny dog curled into his sweater. He caresses her gently with a hand
big enough to crush her.

Nick chooses the first Russian sounding name he can think of. "Her
name is Sasha."

~*~

In the car Gerry turns to Nick and tells him, "You know, you once
asked me why I do charity work. Well, that buzz you have just now,
that's what you get out of it. Don't you feel great knowing that you
just made someone's life a little bit better?"

"Their great grandfather did that with the money they'll get from
the Faberge." Nick is pragmatic. The money will see Erik and Harry
safe for the rest of their lives.

"Tomorrow morning when they get up, do you think they'll think of
their grandfather or you when they see their little dogs?" The rest
of the ride is silent, with both Nick and Gerry lost in thoughts
about the men whose lives they had just touched.

~*~

Nick gets out of the car hoping that now he'll be able to sleep. He
had just reached the stairs when Gerry calls to him.

"Hey, Nick," Gerry implores. "Let me sleep tonight."

Nick waves back to him, and keeps on walking. When he has gone up
the first set of steps he turns back and Gerry's SUV is still
sitting in the street. The car door opens and Gerry stands up. "It's
a full moon, Nick. Maybe instead of turning you into a werewolf it
turned you into Santa Claus." His laughter echoes round the empty
street.

Nick puts his hands on his slim hips and, in an imitation of Santa
and laughing with delight, he shouts,
"Merry Christmas to All, And to All a good Night

The End