He swung his three-pound club hammer hard, demolishing the spider that had been crawling toward the entrance.

“Looks like you got it, whatever it was.”

Markus jumped. “How long you been here?”

“Who wants to know?” A penlight flashlight was suddenly shining in Markus’s eyes. He was standing next to his large lean-to. A tin roof held up on each side by double rows of cinderblocks.  

When Markus didn’t respond, the other man said, “Name’s Cyrus. I came ‘round here hoping I might find a place to get a little shuteye.” He shined the light on the lean to, examining what appeared to be a sturdy, carefully camouflaged space about twelve feet long and maybe six feet wide. “Nice spot you got here.”

“Nobody knows about it, except me and now you. How did you find my place?”

“Thought I was taking a shortcut to the mission where I sleep sometimes,” Cyrus said. “I just followed the path between all them trees and brush. Doubt I would have seen you except for the full moon.”

“Don’t you have a place to stay?” Markus asked.  

“I’ve been sleeping in a cardboard box under the interstate. It rained so hard this afternoon my box got all soggy. I got no place now.” He shook his head. “With all that noise under the bridge, it ain’t no place to sleep anyways. Sirens, tractor trailers, and just when I fall asleep, sure as you’re standing here, some fool slams into another car.” Cyrus paused. “That’s a bad sound. Wakes you up and makes you sick all at once.”

“Well, Cyrus, I’m used to being alone.” He wiped sweat from his brow. Off in the distance he saw the huge digital clock on top of the bank downtown. Half past ten and still it had to be 90 degrees. 

“I appreciate that. I won’t be no trouble, sir. Do you have room for me, just for tonight?”

“I don’t know you, mister. Lord knows if I can trust you.”

Cyrus, who was wearing a windbreaker in spite of the heat, pulled the zipper down and reached into a pocket inside the jacket. Markus suspected the man had a gun and braced himself. There was no time to run and he was too tired to rush the other fellow. Cyrus didn’t have a gun. He pulled out a package and pointed the penlight at it. It was a Jersey Mike’s sub. “Bought this with money I found,” he said. “Every day, I look for change near bus stops and under vending machines. Had a good day today.” He unwrapped the sandwich. “It’s just ham and cheese, mayo. How I like it. You want half?”

Markus was hungry. He had not had a good day. In fact, the only thing he had to eat that day was a donut he found in a trash can outside a Dunkin Donuts downtown. Someone had taken a bite of a chocolate covered cream donut and decided they didn’t like it. “I appreciate the offer, but if it obligates me to put you up for the night, then, no thanks.”

“It’s cool, no strings.”

Markus nodded. “Okay.” Cyrus handed Markus half of the ham sandwich. The two men stood there and ate in silence.

“Wait here,” Markus said. He went into his makeshift home and came out with two jelly jars filled with warm rainwater from an old Igloo five-gallon jug. He handed one to Cyrus. “How long have you lived on the street?” he asked.

“At least three years now,” Cyrus said. “How about you?”

“I don’t live on the street anymore. I live here, but I’m wondering why I never saw you before.”

“Well, you ain’t out on the street much, I guess. How long did it take you to put this thing together?”

“It took me six months to build, but I’ve been living here eighteen months now,” Markus said.

“And I’m the first drifter that found you?”

Markus looked Cyrus over, taking his time now. “You have anything else that might be useful?”

“Well, I got this penlight and just this morning I lifted something from Walmart.” He reached into the pocket on the other side of his jacket and slowly pulled out a can of insect repellant. “Can’t let you have it, but you can use a little bit tonight.” Although Cyrus couldn’t see it, Markus’s eyes lit up. He hated mosquitos as much as he hated spiders.   

“Listen, I have room for you tonight if you promise to be gone by daybreak,” Markus said.

Cyrus walked over to his new friend and shook his hand. “I’m happy to take a spot on your floor.”

The men took turns spraying themselves with the insect repellent. “Go easy on that stuff” Markus said.

When the men stepped into the lean to, Cyrus was surprised to see the place was actually furnished with a tiny kitchen table and two chairs, two bureaus and freestanding bookshelves, one filled with old books, the other containing empty jars of peanut butter and jelly. He found a spot on the floor that had a double layer of cardboard on top of the dirt. “This will do fine,” he said. The air was sweet and the crickets sang a lullaby. He was snoring softly in no time.   

It was raining hard the next morning when Markus got up. That would make the digging easier. The bloodstain on the cardboard would wash off easily too. He picked up the can of insect repellent and smiled. He’d sleep better without the mosquitos bothering him.