"His soul swooned slowly as he heard the snow falling faintly through the universe and faintly falling, like the descent of their last end, upon all the living and the dead."
- James Joyce, The Dead

Today was Gus's eighteenth birthday, and no one had remembered. In the past he'd never bothered getting his hopes up, but now that he had people who cared about him, he'd expected something.

Lucas didn't even wish him a happy birthday when he woke up, which would have been a sufficient gift for Gus. He didn't expect much, just greetings and maybe a bag of candy or chips from Jeff. Jeff always gave those to residents on their birthdays. But no. Nothing.

It put him in a horrible mood all day, and he isolated himself with Moon in the common area or his room, only moving when they told him to.

"I'm clean. I'm ready to go. I don't need to be here anymore," he grumbled to Lucas during chores.

They were on their way to the barn.

"If they let you out today, what's the first thing you would do?" Lucas asked, thought he most likely already knew the answer.

"Get high as fuck and find somebody hot and go on a week long bender," Gus said.

"That's why they don't want you to leave. They want you to get to a place where that isn't your first thought."

"Man, that's always been my first thought. Almost all my life. You have Nora. I don't have anything but drugs to make me feel somethin'."

"You'll meet the right person someday," Lucas said encouragingly.

"Who would wanna be with tweaked-out, stunted, special-ed kid who's crazy with meth psychosis and PTSD?" Gus said with a laugh. "Nah, I live for the high, and I'll die by it too."

"Don't say that," Lucas said.

"It's okay. It's meant to be. My life don't matter."

"It matters to me."

Gus laughed again. "Really? No, you'll go back to your nice house and nice mom and forget I ever existed. We won't ever be friends again. People come and go. I'm used to it. Ain't nobody gonna miss my scrawny ass when I die. I wonder what they do with homeless dead people who don't have nobody. You think they just cremate 'em and dump the ashes in the trash or maybe sell 'em as cat litter? They probably do."

"I don't know... I think they do something nice with them. Like dump the ashes in a city garden or something."

"I guess no one knows but the dead people."

"I'll make sure your ashes aren't cat litter," Lucas said with a smile. "But I can't guarantee people won't put out their cigarettes on you."

Gus chuckled. "Hell, I'm used to that shit. Happened to me all the time growing up. Still got scars."

"Me too," Lucas said quietly.

"Your stepfather?"

Lucas nodded. "You?"

"Foster people. I don't call 'em foster families. They were just people who put up with me 'cause they got paid. That's the only time people actually like me, when they can get somethin' off me."

"That's not why I like you," Lucas said.

"I probably make you feel better about yourself."

"That's bullshit, Gus."

Gus only shrugged. He had been stupid to hope.

He took his usual three hour crash nap around two, and when he woke up Lucas insisted they go for a walk in the pastures.

"It's fuckin' cold," Gus whined as Lucas threw his coat at him.

"Don't care. It'll clear your head from all the depressing shit running through it."

"I'd rather be warm and depressed than cold and happy," Gus grumbled.

The afternoon sun was bright, but the air was dry and biting. The snow was only a light sugar dusting on the ground.

"I hate the cold," Gus mumbled, wrapping his arms around his skinny torso.

"I like snow," Lucas said. "There's something kinda nice about it. Like it covers all the shit in the world and makes it look pretty. You ever read that story called The Dead? By James Joyce?"

Gus laughed. "Shit, dude, I can barely spell my own name. I know how to read street signs and that's it."

"Oh. Well, we had to read it in school. Anyway, it's about a New Years party, snow, and dead people. My teacher was explaining how the snow at the end is like a metaphor for death. You know, it's silent and it buries you without you even noticing it's creeping up on you. It just builds and builds in the silence. It's like... kinda gentle. Like the good guy, not the bad guy. In the end it covers us all, the living and the dead. I liked that idea."

"Well to me it's like cold, miserable, nasty stuff that you can't escape from. What's the use of powder you can't snort?" Gus said. "Plus, one of my friends died in the snow back in Chicago. He froze to death on a sidewalk as people walked over him to get to work. I hate the stuff for that. It's like it murdered him right in front of me. I woke up and he was just a block of ice. The ambulance took him, God knows where, and there wasn't even a funeral. I never said goodbye. They probably just burned his body and dumped the ashes in the garbage like I said earlier. I woulda gave him a funeral. All of us coulda scraped or stole some money. Nobody fuckin' asked me though. No one cared."

"I'm sorry. I didn't know, or I wouldn't have said that stuff about the story," Lucas said.

Gus shrugged. "It is what it is. We're all gonna die."

They were silent for awhile, walking in the direction of the melty pink and orange sherbet sunset. At the edge of the pasture, Lucas said,

"Hey, isn't today your birthday or something?"

"Yeah," Gus said, surprised. "No one remembered. Not even Jeff. You know he always gives candy or chips to people on their birthdays. The asshole totally forgot me. Not that I'm surprised."

Lucas didn't reply to that. "So you're eighteen," he said.

"Yep. Free. No more runnin' from the cops and prayin' to God I don't get found and shoved back into the system. I'm on my own now. Can do whatever the fuck I want," Gus said proudly.

"Any plans about what you're gonna do and where you'll go?" Lucas asked.

"I told you. Get high and get fucked. From there, who the hell cares? I know I'm headed back to Chicago though, one way or another. I'll be on the streets again."

"Me and Nora are gonna go to Chicago after all. We'll meet up. Maybe my cousin will let you stay for awhile," Lucas said.

"That'd be fuckin' awesome if he'd let me stay! I mean, I'm good on the streets. Always have been. But in L.A. the weather's pretty mild. Now Chicago, that place is a bitch to be homeless in. The winters are shit. You just freeze to death in your sleeping bag. But I still love the place and know lots of good people there."

"Addicts?"

"Yeah. What of it?" Gus said, giving Lucas a sharp glance.

"Nothing. I mean, your friends are your friends. I'm just worried about myself relapsing."

"Nobody's gonna a force a needle in your arm. Addicts mostly worry about themselves. Isn't that what Jeff always says? Addiction makes you selfish."

As he finished speaking Gus noticed that the sun was disappearing beneath the horizon now. They had walked so far that the ranch house was a tiny spot behind them.

"Let's get back. I'm cold," Lucas said.

Gus laughed and shook his head. "Pussy. How're you gonna survive Chicago?"

"Inside. That's how."

The two of them ran most of the way back to the house to get the blood pumping through their veins again. It was six o'clock on the dot when they made it back. The nurse who buzzed people into the common area pressed the button when she saw them.

"Cold?" she asked with a smile.

"Damn right. Let us in!" Gus said.

They heard the door click and Gus pushed it, suddenly finding himself in a pitch black, very silent common area. There were no sounds or voices anywhere. By now the TV was usually on and a dozen staff and residents were chatting on the phone and watching movies.

"Holy shit. Did they all die?" Gus asked quietly.

"I don't know. Flip that lightswitch behind you," Lucas said.

Gus flipped it.

"SURPRISE!" shouted dozens of voices at once.

Staff members and residents shot out from behind furniture and under blankets, laughing their heads off. Gus just stood there in shock, his finger still on the switch.

"Wha..." he started to say.

"It's the birthday party for the birthday that no one remembered, you whiny-ass bitch," Lucas said with a grin.

Gus looked at Lucas, his eyes wide. "You did this? For me?"

"We all did. It was Jeff's and Gina's idea. Everyone else jumped on board. I guess your life matters after all, huh? Mopey little shit that you are."

Gus looked around, taking in the long folding table piled with gifts, cupcakes, pizza, soda, and a huge cake with eighteen candles on it. Someone had written, "We love you, Gus," in blue frosting on the top. Gus blinked his eyes several times without saying a word. Then he turned his back on everyone, and the tears started pouring down his cheeks.

"Dude, it's your party. Turn the fuck around," Lucas said quietly.

"No, man. I'm crying," he sniffed.

"Who cares?"

"Me. They'll think I hate it but it's really the best thing ever," Gus said, hastily wiping his eyes on his gloves.

"No one will think that."

Gus turned around, both crying and grinning at the same time. "Wow. You fuckers! I hated you all this morning for forgetting my birthday! I was pissed. Now I just... don't know what to say. Thanks, I guess. I never had a birthday party before. Not ever."

"We know," Jeff said, standing in front of the cake. "That's why we did this for you. Everyone here loves you, Gus."

"Wanna open presents or eat first?" Lucas asked.

"Eat!" Gus said happily.

The pizza boxes were open, wafting delicious scents through the air. For a group that had lived on cafeteria food for months, Pizza Hut was on par with a gourmet meal. There was laughter, shouting, the hiss of soda bottles being opened, ice shuffling around in red Solo cups, and Gus could feel the warm happiness in the air. They made their way down the table with their paper plates, and he piled two with pizza, chips, dip, cupcakes, pasta and breadsticks.

"What the hell is that?" Lucas asked, pointing at the dip.

"Who cares? Just get it. Get everything," Gus said.

Lucas baffled him. He never got all the available food at lunch; the little yogurts, the apples, the carrots, the milk. Gus never turned down a single morsel of free food and grabbed everything he could. He had a week's worth of apple slices stored up that he munched on constantly.

He'd never had much in the way of fruits and veggies. They were too expensive and didn't stay fresh on the streets. Now that he was here he was going to take advantage of them. Hunger had been a constant companion in his life, eased only with drugs and snacks he'd stolen. Sometimes while panhandling someone would hand him a sandwich or a burger, but that didn't happen often. Usually they gave him cash, which he immediately used to score drugs. Even on the days he needed food the most, drugs always came first. It was like a compulsion any time he had a few bucks in his hand.

"There's plenty. You can't eat all of that! There will be some left for you, I promise," Lucas said, staring at his two full plates.

"Don't matter. I'm getting it anyway," Gus said.

For the rest of the night, they watched funny movies, laughed and joked, blasted music and had a great time. Gus opened all of his gifts. Most of them were clothing: shoes, coat, several pairs of jeans and t-shirts, hats and thick socks and a huge duffel bag. Jeff must have anticipated him going back on the streets, because most of the outer wear was waterproof and insulated.

"Jeff and Gina, you guys didn't have to buy me all this shit!" Gus said in shock.

"It wasn't just us. Lucas donated some of his stored cash. Nora too. Pretty much everyone contributed at least a buck or two."

Gus couldn't believe it. He thought back to last year, his birthday spent on Skid Row with Ida and Mahaylia. And the year before that trapped in a semi-truck with a sick monster. And the year before that, he and Adam sharing hot pizzas and sodas they'd stolen from a delivery car, geeked out on meth and laughing like crazy. Back and back and back. Some birthdays, like the ones with Adam, had been fun. Margaret too had tried to make a great day of it in her own way. Other birthdays had been forgotten. A few had been miserable, his little body aching from recent abuse, torture and constant terror.

His mind pulsed with memories both good and bad, of people both dead and living. Out of them all, no birthday had ever come close to this one. He couldn't remember ever feeling all this love. He'd known Adam and Mahaylia had loved him, but they were just two people. Here, all the love from everyone ran together like the ice cream oozing into the pieces of cake on the paper plates.