The Boys at Wah-wah

         Klice stared at the ceiling of his Jeep Grand Cherokee as each breath hung in the cold air. He adjusted himself, trying to find a comfortable way to sleep. As he moved, the spare clothes that he was using to stay warm slid off, and he had to put them back on. He would kill for a blanket, or even another person's body heat.
         The embers from the fire outside still glowed through the windows. Not even an hour ago, there had been twenty people drinking and laughing around it. As the party died down, people shuffled into their cars and Klice was left alone. For the first time in his life, he had nowhere to go. How did this happen? How did he end up alone, sleeping in his car at Wah-wah?
         Two years earlier, his had married her thrid husband. He was police officer and a memeber of Mountainvilles elite drug task force. He was a good guy, but far too impatient to deal with Klice's smart mouth and disregard for athority. It wasn't long after the "I do's" that Klice was on a bus headed for Job Corps.
         He didn't care. He never really liked school anyway, and they were going to train him in carpentry, which he loved. He tried to view it as a chance to do something he liked without Bill, his oppressive step-father, breathing down his neck. He worked hard, and followed the rules. The camp itself was a lot like prison, and cigarettes, dirty magazines, and and any time occupying item became the currency.