Springs protested in the darkness as a lumpy body turned over on the bottom bunk. From another bunk—one of four lining the walls of the small bedroom—a pair of nearsighted eyes peered anxiously into the shadows, making out the dim outline of her roommate trying to get comfortable on the narrow mattress.
“Lucy?” The voice was tremulous, a cracked whisper. “Are you awake?”
“Mmph.” The springs groaned again.
For several moments all was quiet. Then—“Lucy?”
A long sigh. “Whatchu want, Miz Martha? It’s late.”
“Is Gabrielle asleep?” The anxious whisper poked the darkness.
“Fuzz Top? Think so. Ain’t heard nothin’ from her bunk. But if you don’ stop talkin’, you gonna wake her up.”
“But she was crying. I could tell. A mother knows.”
“Well.”
“Why was she crying?”
A snort from the other bunk. “She got her reasons.”
“But . . .” The unsteady whisper trailed off. The elderly woman reached a hand out from under the blankets provided by the homeless shelter until she touched thick doggy hair, newly washed and silky. A rough tongue licked her fingers. Now the voice choked up. “I was just so happy you and Gabrielle found Dandy, I didn’t ask why she’s sleeping at the shelter tonight with me. Shouldn’t she be home with her boys?”
“Well.”
The woman named Martha slipped her hand back under the covers, pulled them up under her chin, and closed her eyes. Her slight body made only a small ripple under the blankets. It was her first overnight at Manna House. She felt a little strange—but her daughter had come to stay with her a night or two, that’s what she said. Martha was glad, even though she didn’t know why Gabrielle was sad. And her new friend Lucy was “sleeping over,” too, just like a slumber party.
Martha giggled. A homeless shelter! Noble would roll over in his grave if he knew where she’d ended up. But she wasn’t lonely here, not like she’d been in the big old house in Minot. And Dandy was asleep on the little rug by her bed, just like always. He’d been lost all day . . . but she couldn’t remember exactly why. Had he run away? No, Dandy never ran away. Well, it didn’t matter. He was safe now, snoring gently beside the bunk bed. But . . .
Her eyes flew open, staring at the bottom of the upper bunk overhead. Somebody had said, “What’s that dog doing here? Manna House don’t allow no dogs!”
Oh dear. Would the shelter let her keep Dandy? Oh, she couldn’t stay another day if Dandy wasn’t welcome.
She rose up on one elbow. “Lucy! You still awake? Do you think—?”
“Miz Martha! If you don’ shut up and go to sleep, I’m gonna come over there and bop you one.” Martha’s roommate flopped over, turned her back, and the springs groaned once more. “Wonkers!” The gravelly voice settled into a mutter. “I get more sleep out on th’ street than I do in a roomful of talky wimmin.”