Imagine: The List
Fic posted by members of Vo's Imaginings YahooGroup


Grabbing the empty collapsible containers, Billy clambers off the platform down to the tracks and starts walking towards the wall, pulling a cart out of the shadows. He looks up when he's joined by Jay and Rick.

"Courtney, did you know?" Kara asks when the three heroes are out of sight.

"I knew that Billy was Captain Marvel, I knew his parents were dead, but I didn't know that Black Adam killed them or he lived down here." Courtney says.

"Why didn't he say something?" Pietr asks.

"I begged him to, but the wisdom of Solomon prevented him from telling anybody. I think that if this," she waves a hand at the ceiling of the tunnel, meaning the outside world, "he still wouldn't be telling us." Courtney looks down the tunnel as Pietr turns down the stew he'd started and starts looking through the platform. He nods, seeing the compost toilet is on the opposite end of the platform from the 'kitchen' to prevent contamination and diseases he's seen in other homeless kids.

A small generator is tucked against the wall next to a desk in the middle of the platform,  nearby is a cot that is obviously slept in. Kara is busy setting up cots nearby for the rest of them. Idly he wonders what Billy does with the compost when the toilet is full before going down the ladder to explore the rest of the abandoned tunnel.

Down the track from the platform, he finds a room that explains what Billy does with the compost. He looks up at the ceiling, he must get light from somewhere he thinks seeing the small compact garden growing in there. He looks over his shoulder at the sound of the cart, finding the others returning with full water containers.  Rick gets on the cart, putting the containers on the edge of the platform before Billy puts the cart back against the far wall and climbs the ladder back onto the platform.

"Billy, are you keeping up with your schooling?" Jay asks, seeing school books on the desk against the wall.

"I'm behind,too many years of not attending school regularly." Billy says shaking his head. "There's a program for young kids who can't attend regular school for one reason or another. They have to know I'm homeless but look the other way. I get work for two or three weeks at a time, bring it back, work on it when I'm not working at the station, being Captain Marvel, or other things, then bring it in when I'm done for grading."

"Other things?"

"I collect scrap for recycling, collect cans and papers, pull wire and other things." Billy shrugs. "Not much a street kid could do to earn money."

"You have everything arranged nicely here." Pietr says. "Most street kids would not think to have their food and water away from their . . . waste area."

"My parents were archeologists, I learned early to set up a good,tight clean camp."

"How do you handle the winters, you obviously can't heat the entire area." Jay asks.

"Since it's underground, it doesn't get as cold as it would if I were outside." Billy says. "I have a couple of collapsible walls I put up to keep heat in this area."

"What do you use for heat?"

"I have a couple of old wood burning stoves on the other platform I bring across and set up for the winter." Billy says. "On the weekends I head out of the city, there's a wood cutting crew I join. I take part of my pay in wood. A couple of months, I usually have enough wood to last all winter since I'm not heating an entire house."

"How do you bathe?"

"I generally take a shower at the station's gym before I head up to work." Billy says. "I don't like going more than a day or so without a shower. There's a small laundromat a couple of blocks away, I try to do laundry every seven to ten days." He points at a line strung up between the two platforms. "I dry my clothes there." Billy checks his watch and quickly heads across the platform. "I need to head to the station, I'll be back in a few hours."

"Station, what station?"

"Watch station WHIZ, you'll see." Billy calls over his shoulder, sliding down the ladder and heading up the tracks at a quick trot.
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