When Bruce left that day, he gave Jason his number, but Jason had no time to contact him now. To rent a place, he needed money, and he was busy looking for work.
This was second nature to Jason. After all, he had grown up on the streets, and he knew better than anyone where people like him could pick up odd jobs. Before long, he had found himself two jobs.
The first was with a moving company, though not a legitimate one. It was the kind hired by debt collectors—basically, if you did not pay up, they emptied out your house.
Besides being strong, workers at this sort of moving company had to look intimidating. They could not actually lay a hand on anyone, but they needed to look like they would wipe out your whole family just by standing on your doorstep.
Jason was practically made for this job. He fit every requirement for this kind of mover: muscular, fierce-looking, and capable of making people's legs shake with a single sweep of his eyes.
This kind of work was usually done at night, because the police station was closed then, making calls to the police less useful. It also helped keep certain people from noticing them.
The daytime job Jason found was as a mail carrier. Not because he was especially good at it, but because the job was desperately short-staffed. Too much work, too little pay, long distances from home, and no one without work papers was allowed to do it. Americans could make far more delivering takeout over the same distance.
Jason was counting on the night job for money. The mail job was purely for getting familiar with the area, and it gave him plenty of time and a perfectly good reason to wander through