VIPER

Today I talked to Viper and Ed. They sleep behind my garage, near a wall behind a bike shop. When I arrived, Viper was already awake and her dog – Molly – was standing next to her.

Viper has tiny sharp green eyes that seem to smile when she speaks. Viper is her birth name. When I ask her what her mother’s name is, she pauses before answering: “I don’t remember. But it was a Native Indian name. I’ve got a picture of her.” Ed sticks his head out of his sleeping bag and waves to me. His smile is warm and gentle.

Viper and Ed have been together for six years. They can’t get married because of the healthcare she receives. Ed has a job which means Viper would lose the money. She can’t afford it. While we are talking, Molly licks Viper’s face.

“Fifteen people (homeless) were arrested at Venice yesterday night, you gonna have work”, says Ed to Viper. She laughs. “They call us mom and dad”. She works as a homeless associate advocate. She goes to court to help “her kids”. Since Ed and her are the oldest, they are like parents to them. Ed adds: “You mess with our kids, you mess with us”. I ask Viper how she learned to defend others. “I read law books. I also do a lot of Sudoku, it’s good for my memory”.

Molly is a double rescue. There’s a strong bond between Molly and Viper. The dog never left her since the day they met. At 18 Viper was diagnosed with epilepsy, but it is only six years ago that the doctors found out she actually suffers from a rare form of it. She is slowly loosing her muscle tone and can’t walk anymore. But she can stand. Ed watches her struggle to get up but doesn’t move unless she asks him to. “She’s a strong woman”, he says. Viper had seven strokes. She laughs about it. “I’m a survivor”, she says as she pulls herself on her wheelchair.

It’s 8.45am. Ed packs their blankets and folds the green plastic tarpaulin that isolates them from the concrete. He combs his hair, then checks himself in a car window. He kisses Viper goodbye and heads to work. Viper’s voice deepens: “We’ve been around here long enough. Now our goal is to find a van and drive to Texas.” She smiles and her eyes twinkle. “That’s where our granddaughter was born 16 days ago.”