Squeegee Kid

a novel by

S.E. Tomas

Copyright © 2017 by S.E. Tomas

All rights reserved.

1

It was October ’96. The carnival season was over and I was stranded in Mobile, Alabama, where I’d been working for Conklin Shows.

I looked at the tire tracks in the gravel, where the show had been set up and started to panic. Shit, I thought. What the hell am I going to do?

All I had were the clothes on my back and a few bucks on me. The rest of my money was under my mattress, in the bunkhouse I’d been staying in all season.

Seeing as how I was totally screwed, the first thing I did was walk to the nearest payphone and call my mom in Edmonton, Alberta.

I hadn’t talked to my mom in over four years. I figured that since I was in a jam, though, she’d be willing to wire me some money so that I could get to Florida and get my stuff out of my bunk.

There were payphones near the entrance to the fairgrounds. I went over there, picked up the phone and called my mom collect.

Luckily, my mom still had the same phone number. She agreed to accept the charges, which I took to be a good sign.

I knew that there was no sense in dancing around the issue, so I just straight-up asked my mom if she could send me some money.

‘‘Oh, you need money,” my mom said. ‘‘I should have known that’s why you were calling, Jim.”

‘‘Mom, I’m sorry,” I said, ‘‘but I’m stranded in Alabama. I didn’t know who else to call. I’ve got no money on me. I’m here at the lot, in Mobile, and the show’s gone. They left early today for some reason. I just need some money so that I can get to West Palm Beach, where they took the bunkhouses. I promise I’ll pay you back.”

Some of the bunkhouses actually weren’t going to West Palm; they were going to Dothan, Alabama. That spot, which ran through Halloween, was technically the show’s last spot of the season. My boss, though, Greg Melnik, never played Dothan. It was a smaller lot than the one in Mobile, so the entire show couldn’t play it. After Mobile, Greg always hauled all of his shit down to Conklin’s winter quarters in Florida, so that’s where my bunk was going.

All I was asking was for my mom to send me enough money so that I could buy a bus ticket. My mom wouldn’t do it, though. ‘‘No way,” she said. ‘‘I’m not sending you money. You can’t just call me up out of the blue like this, just because you’re stuck somewhere, and think I’m going to jump in my car and drive to Western Union. Anyway, why did you leave the lot? Why weren’t you there when the show was leaving this morning?”

‘‘Because I went to a hotel last night,” I said. ‘‘We’d just torn down and the show had turned off the power and the water. I wanted to take a shower.”

‘‘Hmpf.”

‘‘So, you’re not going to help me, then? You want me to hitchhike, I guess.”

‘‘I don’t care what you do.”

The next thing I knew, I was hearing dial tone. My mom had hung up.

‘‘Bitch,” I muttered.

I hung up the phone, and then immediately picked it up again and dialed a cab company—the same one that had just let me off. There was no point in sticking around the fairgrounds. There wasn’t much around there. It was a rural area.

In a few minutes, the cab showed up.

I got into the backseat. ‘‘Take me downtown,” I said.

In about twenty minutes, we were downtown.

‘‘Where do you want me to let you off?” the cabbie said.

We were driving down what looked like the main drag.

‘‘I don’t know,” I said. ‘‘Here’s good.”

The cabbie pulled over. I paid the fare, got out, and then started to walk down the street.

I had no idea where the hell I was going. I didn’t even know where I was, other than that I was in downtown Mobile. I didn’t know Mobile at all. I’d come into town with the show. The night before, when I’d gone to the hotel, I’d told the cab driver, ‘‘Take me to the nearest hotel.” I had no idea where the hotel was relative to the fairgrounds. It was dark. Everything we drove past in the car looked the same.

As I walked down the street, I told myself that I was going to have to look for a homeless shelter or a hostel. I was going to need a place to sleep for the night, and I sure as fuck wasn’t going to be staying in a hotel.

As I walked, I heard someone calling my name all of a sudden. I turned and looked over my shoulder. ‘‘Oh, hey, Leon,” I said.

Leon was a guy who worked on the show. Like me, he worked in one of Greg Melnik’s games. I honestly didn’t like the guy. He was a fighter-type; a bully. Of all the people on the show that I could have run into, Leon was probably the last person that I wanted to see.

‘‘Hey,” Leon said. ‘‘What are you doing downtown?”

‘‘I’m looking for a shelter,” I said.

‘‘Huh?”

‘‘The show took off, bud. We’re stuck here.”

Leon looked like he didn’t believe me. He looked at his watch. ‘‘But it’s not even eleven o’clock,” he said.

‘‘I know,” I said. ‘‘Trust me, though. I was just at the lot. Everyone from the show was gone.”

Leon sighed, and then looked at the ground. ‘‘I thought we’d leave at noon, like usual,” he said. ‘‘I never heard Greg say that we were leaving early today.”

‘‘Neither did I,” I said. ‘‘And he left really early, too. I got to the lot at ten. He’d already taken off.”

In the harsh morning sun, Leon looked rough. He looked like he’d stayed up all night on a crack binge. In Mobile, crack wasn’t hard to find. The dealers literally hung out right outside the fairgrounds. If you had any money on you, they’d force you to buy it. They’d rush at you, all at once, saying, “How much do you want?”

‘‘So, what happened to you last night?” I said to Leon.

‘‘I fell in,” Leon said. “I went to leave the lot and those niggers rushed me at the gate. Shit, I wish I hadn’t spent all my money. Do you got any money on you, Jim?”

‘‘A few bucks. It’s like I said, I’m looking for a shelter.”

‘‘I guess we better do that, eh?”

‘‘Yeah. We’ll need a place to stay until we can figure out how we’re going to get the fuck out of here.”

Leon and I started to walk down the street. The street had those trees that you saw in Mobile with the creepy-looking branches that seemed to grow sideways, rather than upwards, over the streets.

As we walked, we asked random people we passed in the street if they knew where we could find a shelter. We had no luck at first, but we eventually ran into someone who could help us—this old black broad.

This broad was a total Jesus freak, which, in the South, wasn’t too hard to come by. She had this huge cross around her neck. Clutched to her chest was a bible.

The broad told us where the shelter was, and then gave us directions on how to get there. ‘‘My husband volunteers there once a week,” she told us. ‘‘I bring his old clothes over there sometimes.”

Yeah, I bet, I thought.

‘‘All right,” Leon said.

‘‘Yeah, thanks,” I said.

‘‘Take care,” the broad said. ‘‘And God bless.”

Leon and I found the shelter. It was a brown brick building that looked almost like a community centre.  It was located in sort of a remote area. It felt like we were on the outskirts of the downtown.

In front of the shelter, a bunch of old bums were sitting around, hanging out. Leon and I found out from the bums that we couldn’t go into the shelter until later in the day.

Rather than hang around with these bums all day, or with Leon, I told Leon that I’d see him later, and then I just walked around downtown all day by myself.

In the early evening I went back to the shelter. The bums were all lining up to get in. I ran into Leon and joined him in the line.

As we were standing in line, I suddenly got an idea. I turned to Leon. ‘‘Hey,” I said. ‘‘I just thought of something, man. We’re Canadian citizens and we’re stranded in a foreign country.”

‘‘Yeah,” Leon said.

‘‘Well, we should call the Canadian embassy.”

I figured the Canadian embassy would have to get us back to Canadian soil. I had no problem calling them. I was in the United States legally. I had a work visa. Leon didn’t need one because he was Native.

At first, Leon didn’t want to call the embassy.

‘‘Why not?” I said.

‘‘I think we should just wait until Greg’s in West Palm, and then try to call him.”

‘‘Do you know his number there?”

‘‘No, but we can look it up.”

‘‘OK. Assuming we get his number, do you really think he’s going to help us? He didn’t seem to care too much when he took off on us today. I’d rather call the embassy right now and just get the ball rolling.”

Leon still didn’t want to call.

‘‘Well, I’m going to call,” I said. ‘‘I’ll just call on my own behalf, then.”

Leon and I were now at the front of the line. We went into the shelter. I looked around. Everyone in the entire place was black. I was the only white guy there. Even the staff there were black.

The shelter had a phone that I could use. I picked up the phone, and then dialed the operator. ‘‘I want to talk to the Canadian embassy,” I said.

‘‘One moment, please,” the operator said. Then she transferred the line.

Once I got through to the embassy, I was transferred a bunch of times. I finally got through to someone who could help me.

At first, the person wanted to know if I had any friends or relatives who could wire me money, so that I could get home on my own.

I almost laughed at the question. ‘‘No,” I said. ‘‘I wouldn’t be calling you guys if that was the case.”

‘‘Are you able to get any work in Mobile?”

‘‘No. My work visa expired. I can’t work. I’ve got no money. My employer took off on me and left me stranded here with only the clothes on my back. I’m in a homeless shelter right now. That’s where I’m calling you from, by the way.”

‘‘OK. Well, have you tried contacting your employer?”

‘‘No, he’s on the road. There’s no way I can get a hold of him right now.”

‘‘What’s the name of your employer?”

‘‘I’d rather not say.”

Even though I was pissed off at Greg, I wasn’t going to rat the guy out. That’s all I needed—to get blacklisted on the carnival. I’d never work on a fucking show again.

I heard some typing.

‘‘Please hold the line, sir,” the broad said.

‘‘Yeah, OK,” I said.

After holding for about fifteen minutes, the broad came back on the line. She had me confirm my name, date of birth, and social insurance number.

‘‘OK, so what happens now?” I said.

‘‘We’re going to process your case,” the broad said. “You’ll need to call us back in three days.”

Great, I thought, as I hung up the phone. What the fuck am I going to do here for the next three days?

I was already so sick of Mobile. The only reason I’d even played the spot was so that I could get a ride with the show afterwards to Florida. I was planning on going to Santa’s Enchanted Forest, which was a seventy-two day spot in Miami that started in October and closed right after New Year’s. There had been no other reason for me to play Mobile. The spot had always been a blank. I’d never made any money there. Mobile wasn’t that big of a town. And the people who came to the fairgrounds, the majority of whom were black, didn’t spend much on the games. It was an extremely poor town.

Leon came over to me, as I was hanging up the phone. ‘‘What happened with the embassy?” he said.

‘‘They’re going to process my case,” I said. ‘‘I’ve got to call them back in three days.”

‘‘All right. I think I’ll call.”

Leon called the embassy. The person he spoke to told him to call back in three days, too, apparently.

Shortly after we made our phone calls, the shelter served everyone some free food. I was starving. I hadn’t eaten anything all day.

Leon and I got in the food line with all the other bums. We each took a tray and when it was our turn, we got served by the person behind the counter. The set-up was like in a high school cafeteria—there was somebody behind the counter serving the food and they just put whatever you wanted onto your tray.

That night I slept on a thin plastic mattress on a very hard floor.

As I stared up at the ceiling of the crowded, smelly room, I thought to myself, “Greg, you motherfucker.”

End of Chapter 1

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Giselle

★★★★☆

June 8, 2023

It was a fair exchange of money for goods. I wanted to know what it was like to be a squeegee kid in Toronto in the 90s and S.E. Tomas' book lays it out.

Down and Out in Paris and London is one of my favorite books, partially because it offers a peek into a hidden world. The difference between that book and Squeegee Kid is (1) S.E. Tomas is no Orwell and/but (2) He was genuinely down and out.

The writing isn't great but, like outsider art, it is compelling in its rawness.

I don't mean there are mistakes in it. It's professionally done and bound in an attractive paperback format. I mean, situations are elaborately set-up and then nothing much happens. You almost wish the author would invent something or at least provide more sordid details.

Which brings me to the big issue, as the reader, I am a class-tourist. I remember the time and places S.E Tomas writes about in Squeegee Kid. I was a middle-class kid from North York. When I walked past the Evergreen on Yonge, I crossed to the other side of the street to avoid it. I had no idea what went on inside. Now I know. They were serving watered down soup for 5 cents a bowl.

So I recommend Squeegee Kid for cleaning the windshield of my mind a little bit and providing value for money. That is all anyone could ask for.

Jay

★★★★☆

August 12, 2021

Like most people, I met S.E. Tomas on the street (literally across the street from Turning Point...) and bought a book from him. He's as charismatic as his alter-ego, Jim, and like the character, he also enjoys weed; he was smoking a joint with his girlfriend/editor when I met him :p

I loved the story. It was funny, had charming characters, and showcased a side of Toronto not often written about...or at least, written about WELL. I liked the short paragraphs/chapters, the references to streets I knew and grew up on, and the quick, easy-to-read dialogue.

Being hyper-critical, I have a few gripes. I know that the story was told from Jim/S.E. Tomas' perspective, and that since it is based on real experiences, it is somewhat limited....but man, what the hell happened to Mark? He was squeegeeing and using crack more and more. I can IMAGINE what happened to him, sure, but I wish we could have seen him through to the end. It really felt like his story was building to something, and then he found the thousand bucks. I thought shit was going to explode, but Jim just stopped squeegeeing. Oh well!

I also found the title interesting. Sure, Jim squeegeed a bunch, but he spent just as much time dealing, working sales, working carnivals and generally hustling. In fact, he made most of his money drug-dealing.

Another small gripe. Although Jim battles the elements and is stranded in a new city, I was never worried about him. He befriended really good people along the way, like Russ and the shelter staff at Turning Point, who sometimes bent the rules for him. He always met a random bum willing to advise him on where to stay, how get his GST forms, his weekly PNA, etc. Mark took him along to his squeegee corner without hesitation. When Jim got sick with pneumonia, the hospital was there to help him.

Also, Jim was excellent at everything he did. He was charismatic and did well at everything he tried; on his first day in sales and working as a squeegee kid, he out-performed the veterans of the profession. When he forayed into drug-dealing, he crushed it, beating out 'Danzig' - who'd been working the area for a decade - within the span of two months. While it was fun-reading to see Jim do well, and as much as I wanted him to succeed, it would have been better to see him battle through a fatal flaw. That element was missing. His prior crack-use was referred to, but he didn't seem tempted to use in this book, never following Mark to see his dealer. Jim only smoked weed in this story, and in the end, made profit from selling it.

That's me being HYPER-critical, though. The writing was good, the plot was fun, the characters were awesome, and I have never been so familiar with a setting in my entire life. This was a great book, recommended to any and every Torontonian.

It seems to be a trend to end these reviews by saying that I will be buying another of his books soon :)

Cathy

★★★★★

September 12, 2019

Easily engaged with the story of young Jim surviving the street life in Toronto. S.E. Tomas does not fail to deliver a gritty experience that will make the reader feel like they know Jim well, and naturally understand, why he does what he can to get by. I like that the author has inside information and effectively reaches his audience by putting us in his character's shoes. As a volunteer for years at a soup truck, I spent many Tuesday nights trying to get to know the homeless population, and hopefully earn their trust. I always felt that anyone could be homeless, given the right circumstances, so I never felt a certain security that was owed to me and knew I would do anything to survive as well. While one could admire the free spirit and bravery required to endure in this marginalized community, S.E. Tomas refrains from glamorizing the addictions, mental health issues, stigma, abuse and exposure to the elements that come along with it. I, for one, hope my tax dollars are used to create more affordable housing, and additional resources for low-income earners. I support barrier-free access to training and education for all.

Nicola Clements

★★★★★

August 1, 2018

LOVED THIS BOOK !!!!!

started reading this and immediately knew I needed crackilton!!!!
I love that he took his hard time and made it into something people can look up to if they are in the same situation. Tells the hardships of what its like to struggle and to never give up.
Now I need carny.

IM WAITING FOR A 4TH BOOK!!!
so obsessed !!!

Patricia Atkinson

★★★★★

September 25, 2017

loved the book story about jim getting stranded when he worked for the carnival and needed to get home ended up in Toronto with no money in a homeless shelter where he met a guy who did sqeegiees at stop lights to make money jim decided to try it and did it till he was in hospital than he went back to it till it was carnival time.....quite the story of the life he has lived cant wait to read the other 2 books written by him you wont be disappointed.

Yehuda

★★★★★

July 18, 2017

S.E. Tomas takes a the fortunate reader into the life of a squeegee kid living in Toronto in the early 2000s. Raw and real Jim takes you along on his journey - he shares his highs and his lows in this inspirational story of resilience in the face of seemingly insurmountable adversity.
Squeegee Kid is compelling, well written, and an easy read. It is amazing that you can buy this book directly from the author and have a conversation with such an amazing individual.
Truly grateful that I met the author and excited that I was able to spend some time with him in the short period before S.E. Tomas becomes a household name
I cannot recommend this book enough and am excited to read my copy of Crackilton.
All the thumbs up and looking forward to seeing you on Ellen!

Spinelli G

★★★★★  Tomas I purchased this book for my former youth outreach worker who grew to be my best friend I spent most of my youth and adult ...

Reviewed in Canada on May 3, 2018

Verified Purchase

You rock S.E. Tomas I purchased this book for my former youth outreach worker who grew to be my best friend I spent most of my youth and adult years on the streets and she sent me his article and she seemed very excited and told me I should wright a book 📖 but instead I found your book on here because I couldn’t find u downtown Toronto I love amazon prime and she just loved your book keep writing man you definitely have inspired a lot of street kids 211

Maz

★★★☆☆  I did enjoy reading it and its an easy read at that ...

Reviewed in Canada on February 17, 2018

Overall I too found that is book really didn't have a storyline or a plot to be honest, I did enjoy reading it and its an easy read at that but I didn't find it exciting or hanging at the edge of my seat. I also didn't find that in reading it it gave me knowledge or excitement to then go tell others about the book. I will read the Hamilton book he has but I'm not expecting anything more than what I got out of this book. I give this book a B-

avr

★★★★★ Five Stars

Reviewed in Canada on January 3, 2018

Verified Purchase

For a story without a climax, it was completely compelling - I couldn't put it down.

Tracy Pedersen

★★★★★  Five Stars

Reviewed in Canada on November 28, 2017

great read

Mr Grateful

★★★★★ Five Stars

Reviewed in Canada on August 2, 2017

Verified Purchase

I love the honest and raw style of S.E. Tomas. Great story teller.

Nancy

★★★★★  Brings back memories of the 90s in Toronto. A ...

Reviewed in Canada on May 29, 2017

Verified Purchase

Brings back memories of the 90s in Toronto. A frustrating and real look into the thinking of some people who live on the streets.

tracy

★★★★★  Five Stars

Reviewed in Canada on May 14, 2017

I loved it. A true story and I'm so glad he told it. Well worth the 20.00

Trish

★★★★★  Highly resilient!

Reviewed in Canada on May 11, 2017

I absolutely loved Squeegee Kid! I bought the book to understand squeegee kids, because I thought they were a royal pain when driving in the city.
Jim's resilience and work ethic is quite impressive and I think there are good things coming his way! Complete Life story? Movie?
I could not put down the book and highly recommend it.
Highly recommend.
I'm digging into Crackilton next and looking forward to the read.
Does Adidas know about this book?

Aaron

★★★★★  Emotional prequel to Crackilton

Reviewed in Canada on April 30, 2017

To begin, please see the previous review of SE Tomas' other book, Crackilton. This book is an emotional sequel but chronological prequel to Crackilton. At the beginning of the last book, Jim is an addict and struggling with everything that involves. Squeegee Kid is a powerful look back at the circumstances and mindset that led to the addictions forming. Meeting the author, it is clear that this is a lightly fictionalized memoir, filled with the kind of details that only a kid trying to survive on the streets of Toronto could know. This is a short book, but filled with enough details to offer something new on multiple re-reads. Highly recommended.

Amazon Customer

★★★★★  Thoroughly enjoyed this book

Reviewed in Canada on April 26, 2017

Thoroughly enjoyed this book, could not put it down! Quick, easy and interesting read. Ends with a cliffhanger wanting more.

Amazon Customer

★★★★★  As good as Crackilton

Reviewed in Canada on April 20, 2017

S.E. Tomas does it again. As good as Crackilton, but in a whole new setting. Squeegee Kid tells the thinly-fictionalized story of Jim's time in Toronto, hustling weed, cleaning windows, and generally getting by in whatever way he can. He's tireless, resourceful, but can't quite seem to plan beyond tomorrow. It's a candid look into a world we may see part of, but never see all of. And that's what a good novel is meant to do.

homeofhappycats

★★★★★  Another great read by S

Reviewed in Canada on January 26, 2017

Verified Purchase

Another great read by S. E. Tomas. Just like with Crackilton, I read it in one day. I think this was even better than Crackilton. I hope there are more books to come. The guy has the worst luck but never feels sorry for himself, just keeps on going. You wouldn't think it would be an inspiring book but it is. It's a great story and you really won't be able to put it down.