Moss’s week was pretty bad to start with, but on top of everything, he fell out of a tree.  What a rude awakening!  Moss’s parents died three days ago in a car wreck.  He had no other family, so he decided to take off.  He didn’t want all the sympathy that they give you when something bad happens.  He didn’t want people telling him he had to go live a foster home or something.  He didn’t even want to be noticed.  He just wanted to disappear.  So, he ditched school and his friends and started living life as a loner, a hobo, an island.  Now, he’s climbing palm trees in Tampa, Florida, looking for coconuts. 
Moss had spent the last two nights wandering the streets of Tampa, avoiding eye-contact with anyone.  He was still wearing the holey jeans and Florida Gators t-shirt he had on when they called him to the principal’s office to tell him the news.  He wasn’t sure what happened the first night; seems like he just walked around.  Yesterday, he created a makeshift shelter in a tree.  Now, he decided that the farther away the branches are from the trunk, the less sturdy they are.  He also decided he was hungry. 
He didn’t eat dinner yesterday, and he was starting to feel nauseated.  He needed food but didn’t have any money.  He had to beg or steal.  If he begged, there was a chance he would be turned into the police.  That could mean a foster home, and he didn’t want that.  He didn’t want anyone.  He figured he looked like he was 19, even though he was actually only 16.  He could pass as an adult.
Moss walked to the nearest convenience store.  He strolled around, pretending to look at stuff.  The cashier got wary and said, “Sir, are you going to buy something?”  Moss lowered his head so his long, dirty blonde hair fell over his eyes and said, “No.”  He smiled as he walked out of the store.  He had managed to pick up a bag of chips, two sodas, and some jerky.  Back at his shelter, Moss ate in silence, he had never stolen before, and he didn’t like it now. Then he started thinking about his parents.  He and his mom hadn’t been getting along before the accident. They constantly had arguments and in general couldn’t stand each other. His dad was always gone on business trips. So he never saw him, but when he did it, was another nightmare. His dad never had time to do anything and got mad at him if he disturbed him at all. But still there were good times between Moss and his parents, and he was still overwhelmed with sadness. After moping for a while, Moss decided he should find an alternate shelter.     
After carefully climbing down from his tree shelter, Moss wandered the streets.  He turned down a darkened alley and crossed through a vacant lot.  Then, he found an abandoned strip mall.  There were tons of them in Florida these days – something to do with the economy.  Moss decided that a mall was a better home than the top of a tree, so he went and got his stuff and headed back to the strip mall. 
Once there, he broke into a dentist’s office.  He found a whole bunch of stuff, including a tool box under the sink in the kitchenette.  It had a little saw he could use for opening coconuts, and a flashlight. He found some other standard tools you would find in a small toolbox, (plyers, wrenches, screwdrivers, etc.). He grabbed it all and chose a room in the back.  He made his bed on a dentist chair.  It was a lot more comfortable than the tree-bed. Moss put the toolbox on the tray next to the chair. Moss decided that he should check all the other rooms. He found two bathrooms and a small lounge. Moss checked the kitchen for food. He found some rotten bananas and some canned soup. Moss looked in all the cupboards and in the last one, he found a coffee maker. That would do some good, Moss thought.  Then he remembered the hole in the front window.  So, he went back to the empty lot to look for something to cover the hole. 
The empty lot turned out to be the neighborhood dump.  He found metal, wires, a padlock (with the key in it!), hinges, switches, and some car parts.  Moss took his treasure back to his new home.  After covering the hole, he installed a lock on the door.  Then, he set up a pulley system so that, if a person tripped the wire, a ton of metal would fall from the ceiling and make a big noise.
Moss’s stomach was grumbling again.  He was naturally slim, but the last few meals he missed were taking their toll.  If he missed too many more, he’d have to get a belt to hold his jeans up.  He needed money.  He walked around the neighborhood, looking for change on the streets.  After what seemed like a lifetime, he stopped to count up his bounty.  $7.87.  Moss was excited.
He raced to the nearest McDonald’s and got six cheeseburgers.  Moss knew that buying something from McDonald’s was a good idea, because their cheeseburgers never expire.  Back “home” he had a late lunch and an early dinner.  Then, he was just about to fall asleep when his alarm went off.
Moss grabbed the saw and hid behind a corner.  He heard a man shout, “What the heck?!”  Moss turned around the corner and came face to face with a scruffy man who looked like he was in his 30s…and probably homeless.  Moss and the man both screamed at the same time.  It was Moss who recovered from the shock first.  He asked the man who he was.  The man said, “My name is Jim.  Who are you?  And what is a boy like yourself doing in a place like this?”
Moss said, “My parents died, and I have nowhere to live, so I now live here.”
“That was quite a scary contraption you made there,” said Jim, pointing to the pile of metal on the entryway floor.  Moss smiled, and reset the trap.  He then explained how he broke into the place and decided to move in.  “What are you doing here?” he asked Jim. 
“Just looking for a place to rest my head.  I saw a light and thought someone might be in here.”
“I’m in here,” said Moss.  Then he added, “Do you have any money?”
“Sorry, Kid.  I don’t have money, a home, or anywhere to stay tonight.”
“You can stay here,” Moss offered.  “Just grab a dentist’s chair.”  It was a very long night for Moss.  Jim snored really loudly.  Moss started wishing he had a relative who would take him in.  At last, he finally drifted off.  The next morning, Moss woke up to his alarm again, followed by a massive scream and then a “Sorry.  Forgot that was there.”  Moss didn’t want to get up, but he had to reset the alarm.  Once he finished, Moss grabbed two cheeseburgers and handed one to Jim.  They sat in the waiting room eating their breakfast and getting to know each other.  Moss could tell that Jim did not like the idea of stealing by the look on his face when Moss talked about the convenience store.  Moss told him that he didn’t really like stealing either. They lived in the mall for about two weeks until Jim said he had an errand to run. Then, he went out, too.  At the bus stop, he hit the jackpot.  Someone had dropped a five dollar bill, and there it was, right next to the garbage can, stuck to the sidewalk by a discarded ice cream sandwich wrapper.  He walked on, thinking about what to buy.  As he turned the corner, he saw some people from his old school.  They were standing in front of the art museum.
“Hey, Mossy, what’s up?” asked the tallest one, Josh.  Others asked where he’d been.
“On vacation,” Moss responded, “just taking some time to myself.”  Moss felt a little uncomfortable at first, but it was kind of good to see someone he knew.
The group walked into the museum.  Moss followed.  His head was swirling with thoughts of his parents, the wreck, his last day at school, the last few days on the streets, his friend, Jim.  The group was huddling around a painting.  Moss stared in horror as one of them mutilated the bottom half of the painting with spray paint.  The other boys laughed.  “Nice touch,” Josh said. 
Just then, an elderly museum employee came into view.  Josh and the others scattered, leaving Moss with a can of spray paint at his feet.  Moss darted out of the museum and raced down the street, past a hot dog cart.  Then he remembered the five dollar bill.  He stopped, turned, and trotted back to the cart.  He told the man what he wanted, and just as the man was handing him the hot dog, the security guard came around the corner.  Moss grabbed the hot dog and threw it at the security guard, gave the vendor the five, and ran as fast as he could back to the dentist’s office.   Inside, he saw Jim reading a magazine, drinking a Pepsi.
“Hey, Kid,” said Jim.
Moss blurted, “The police are after me, Jim.  What do I do?”
“Wait, did you just say the police are after you?” asked a bewildered Jim.
“No, I said Santa is after me in his sleigh, and he wants to give me presents.”
“Okay, you had me worried, Kid,” smiled Jim, “I thought you said the police were after you.”
“It isn’t funny, Jim,” said Moss, peeking out the window through the blinds.
“Okay, okay,” said Jim, “I guess that was a little bit of a bad joke.  Do you want to go to Starbucks or something?”
“I’m serious, Jim.  You gotta help me,” yelled Moss, still peeking through the blinds.
“What did you do?” asked Jim, standing.
“They think I spray painted a painting at the museum,” Moss stammered. ”And I kinda threw a hot dog at a security guard.”
“You WHAT!” said Jim choking on his Pepsi. “That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day!” Jim said as he was laughing.
  Just then, a voice said, “Come out with your hands up.”  Moss understood the situation.  He knew the right thing to do, so he ran and hid in a closet.  Jim made himself scarce.  Moments later, Moss heard the door bust open.  Then, he heard the metal hitting the floor.  “Oh, shoot,” a voice screamed.  Moss laughed a little, which he instantly regretted as he almost gave away his position. He heard a disgusting squishing sound followed by a “Nasty!” Moss figured that one of the officers had stepped on one of the cheeseburgers. Finally Moss couldn’t contain himself and laughed a little. The entire room went silent. About five minutes passed of the dreadful silence until Moss thought the coast was clear. He opened the closet door and walked out into six policemen all staring at him.

“Gentlemen,” Moss said in his deepest voice.

They all stared at him for about five seconds before one of them spoke. “Son, you’re in a lot of trouble.”

That’s when Moss booked it. He never thought he had ever run so fast in his life. Moss ran around the back of the mall and was eventually corned by a police car.   
The next eight days went by so quickly that Moss felt like he was in a time warp.  Jail wasn’t fun by any means, but the bed was pretty comfortable, and he ate regularly.  Now, he found himself sitting before the Judge.  He could feel his palms getting sweaty. 
“Moss Green, please rise,” said the Judge.  The museum’s lawyer had asked a whole bunch of questions.  Then, his lawyer said he had to take a polygraph.  He was nervous, but he told the truth.  Now, he found himself wishing his parents were here to help.  They’d know what to do, what to say.
“The results of your polygraph show you were telling the truth,” the Judge said blandly, “so the vandalism charges are being dropped.”  Moss felt a huge weight fall off his shoulders.  This was going to be okay.  “However,” the Judge continued, “there is the matter of your being underage and homeless.  I’m going to let social services know.  They will find you a foster home and get you back into school.”
All the color drained from Moss’s face.  He felt light-headed.  This was the one result he didn’t want.  No way did he need more parents cramping his style, yelling at him all the time to cut his hair, making him do his homework.  He felt his eyes burning, threatening to tear up.  His feelings were a jumble of pain, fear, anger, and panic.
“Wait!” a voice behind him shouted.  Moss turned to see Jim standing with his hand in the air.  “My name is Jim Brown, and I work at the downtown museum. I would like to legally adopt this boy.”