Chapter 5

 

 

The next afternoon when Sandy and Mary arrived, Trini seemed ecstatic to have the extra help.

Pulling out a spiral bound notebook, she said, “We try to get everyone to register—and I use the word loosely—just so we know who’s here for the night. It’s not mandatory. Some are very uncomfortable giving their names, some give first names only and that’s okay, and there are some cases where I wonder if the person is actually literate enough to write his or her name. Handle each with compassion and if they won’t sign the book, just make a little note with the basics—male or female, approximate age, clothing. We had a kitchen fire once and it was crazy and scary trying to round up everyone outside when we evacuated the building. I’m not trying to pry into their lives, but I need to know that we get everyone out safely if something like that ever happens again.”

“Makes sense,” both women agreed.

“If one of you wants to take that job, I can use the other to help serve dinner from five o’clock until seven.”

“I’d be glad to do the food,” Sandy said, “but I’d also like the chance to keep an eye on the sleeping quarters, to see if anyone is poking around where they shouldn’t be.”

Trini thought about it for a moment. “For tonight, until they get used to seeing you around, how about if I do the dorm room duty? In a day or two, we can switch places on that.”

Mary stepped behind the desk, wrote the date at the top of a fresh page in the notebook, and turned it to face incoming visitors.

“Food service starts soon, and they’ll come rolling in quickly,” Trini warned. “Sandy, this way with me.”

She led the way down the hall, peering into the empty men’s dorm and then the women’s where she asked a young mother with two kids to sign in at the desk before supper.

“We’ve got chicken pot pie tonight, always a favorite,” she told Sandy. “It’s baked in large flat pans, so you’ll dish out a portion to each person. Try to make them about equal in size, like so, although anyone is free to come back for more after everyone has had some. Shouldn’t become an issue—they’re used to the way we do things here. Plus, thanks to a generous donation from the farmer’s market, there’s salad and rolls.”

The young woman and her children were the first to appear, and four others came in close behind. Sandy picked up a plate and began serving the fragrant dish. Another volunteer added salad and a roll to each plate. Nearly every resident said thank-you when handed the meal.

The third person in line was Micah, the fourth a man Sandy hadn’t seen before. He had a day’s growth of beard and his clothes were decidedly dirty and tattered. She wanted to give him a larger portion of the food but wasn’t certain how many other hungry people were yet to come.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“Ron.” His voice was rough and he wouldn’t meet her eye.

“Well, Ron, if there’s extra food after the others are served, you’re welcome to come back for more. If you want to.”

Her fellow server gave her a look. Maybe the offer shouldn’t be done. She looked up to see the next person in line, a young woman with bright orange hair.

More than two hours later, her feet and legs aching, Sandy hauled the last of the empty baking pans to the kitchen where someone else took it and dunked it into a sink full of soapy water. Sandy washed her hands and went to find Mary.

“Still a few checking in,” Mary said, “but it looks like the beds are pretty well filled.”

Trini had come in and overheard this last. “That’s good. I like it when we get everyone inside early in the evening. I’ll set up the TV in the dining hall with a movie. Most will stay to watch but some just prefer to get to their beds and read or get some extra sleep.”

“Mind if we hang around and compare notes afterward?” Sandy asked.

“Exactly what I had in mind.” Trini bustled away but returned fifteen minutes later.

“Okay, things should be quiet for awhile.” She opened the door behind the reception desk to reveal a furnished room. “Welcome to the manager’s abode.”

It was a tiny bed-sit with a couch, dresser and television. A small desk in the corner held Trini’s personal computer, and another door apparently led to a private bath.

“You actually live here?” Sandy asked.

“During my shift. I do have an apartment in Phoenix, but while I’m working my ten days on duty, I sleep over. The sofa bed isn’t too bad, actually. My co-director works the next ten days, then I’m back on for ten. It gives each of us a nice break, a chance to experience what for us is ‘normal’ life. I can’t complain. None of our residents has another life to escape to. Those dorm rooms—those are their normal.”

She pulled out the desk chair and invited the others to choose between it or the sofa. Mary had carried the spiral notebook inside with her.

“In the slower moments I looked back through the pages,” she said. “You marked the dates when the thefts were reported, so I thought I might find a pattern of who was here each of those dates. Then I quickly realized it wasn’t going to be quite that simple.”

“There’s a lot of coming and going,” Trini admitted. “Sometimes we have the same residents for a week or two, other times they’ll stay one or two nights, leave, and come back a month later.”

Sandy piped up. “How about if we put the data on a spreadsheet? A pattern might emerge that way.”

“Great idea, as long as you have someone with the skill and time to put that together,” Trini said. “It’s not me, for sure. I can write a fairly decent business letter and make my way around Facebook. For computer skills that’s about my limit.”

Mary grinned. “We have just the girl for this.”

“During dinner, did you notice anything unusual going on in the dorm areas?” Sandy asked.

“Just the normal amount of settling in. They claim a bed and leave something to mark it, a jacket or duffle bag, sometimes a shopping cart. We could pop in now while they’re watching the movie, take another look around.”

On the pretense of making sure every bed had enough blankets and a pillow, they tapped on the door to the men’s dorm and walked in. Two men were inside, one lounging on a bed, the other rummaging through a backpack that had once been yellow but was now a grimy shade of gray.

“Hey, K.C., how’s it going?” Trini greeted. “Want an extra blanket tonight?”

The grizzled old man was skinny enough to blow away in a stiff breeze, but he was apparently content with his layers of clothing and the single blanket on his bed. He grunted and shook his head at the offer. The man on the bed was perusing a battered copy of Road and Track with ripped covers. Sandy recognized him as Ron, the one who had come through the food line early in the evening. He had kicked off his boots but the grimy socks he now rested on the bedding weren’t much cleaner. Aside from his filthy clothing he looked reasonably healthy. She wondered if he was actually reading the magazine or just browsing the pictures. He, too, declined a blanket although Sandy could feel his eyes following as they circled the room. She supposed newcomers stood out.

In the women’s dorm, more of the residents had opted out of television and were settling in. The young mother had settled her two little daughters into one bed. Even with limited resources she had made certain their faces were clean and they changed from their street clothing into pajamas. Between them, they cuddled a teddy bear that was missing an eye and a lot of its stuffing but both girls were talking to it as if it were their best little friend.

Walking outside as they were leaving, Sandy and Mary paused to get Trini’s assessment.

“Old K.C., he’s been on the streets a long time. We only see him at the shelter on the colder winter nights or the very hottest of summer. He grabs little handyman jobs where he can. A lot of AJ residents know him and I suspect someone allows him to sleep in a camper or shed a lot of the time, so he’s halfway self-sufficient. Ron’s in and out, a semi-regular here. He sleeps here one or two nights a week, doesn’t say much. People say he’s on the corners a lot, cardboard sign, scrounging quarters and dollar bills when he can. He travels light, and I suspect he makes the rounds of the shelters in the area so he doesn’t wear out his welcome at any one place. I can name a dozen more of them who kind of follow that pattern. As the nights get colder, I just hope they’re not sleeping on the street.”

She paused. “Cicely and her kids … I’m pretty sure she’s fleeing an abuser. She was completely freaked out the first night she showed up. I’ve hinted that she find a battered women’s shelter where she can get counseling and some help to find a job, but she seems content here. When her thirty nights are up, I’ll need to see if I can help her with a better alternative but, for now, it’s good that she’s here. Most likely she rode the bus as far as she could get from the husband, and this is where she landed.”

“Wow. So many stories. I can’t believe what a soft life I’ve led,” said Sandy.

Mary gripped the spiral notebook. “I’ll make copies of this so Amber can put the data on computer and we’ll get the book back to you.”

Trini nodded solemnly, gave each of them a big hug, and thanked them for their help.