ELIOT

The lanes of booths were packed now, and the large room was filled with a low roar. I fixed my mask in place, grabbed the napkins Alli held out, and started to follow her.

But she had other ideas: “Everyone split up and try to give away everything in your basket. Meet back here in ten minutes. We’ll see how we’re doing.”

I nodded and turned toward the left aisle.

“Bread! Free bread samples!” Alli called.

Heading for the middle aisle, Toby started bellowing, “Free! Get your sample bread here! Free!”

So, I did the same: “Free bread!”

A short, bald man stopped and stared, trying to see behind my mask. “Eliot Winston?”

I lifted my mask and nodded.

“I thought so.” The man pulled me into a tight hug.

Whoa, what an aftershave smell. Spicy and strong. I squirmed and tried to breathe.

The man suddenly sneezed, trying, but failing to cover his mouth.

I cringed and stepped back.

From behind his fat hand, the man mumbled, “Griff was a great man. Sure miss him.”

I watched the man’s germ-laden hand, making sure it didn’t come near me. “Um, how did you know Griff?”

“Just around the community. You tell Mrs. Winston, tell her that we miss him.”

The man reached out to pat my shoulder, but I ducked down and put a brochure in his hand instead.

“Sure, I’ll tell her.” I scooted away. After a dozen steps, I looked back. He was still reading the brochure.

“Free bread!” I called.

Another man stopped. He was skinny and unshaven. Thin cheeks, thin hands. I had to squirm away from another hug and decided that aftershave lotion was better than the unwashed smell.

And a woman had to hug me—sweet, flowery perfume—and say how sorry she was for our loss.

I finally realized that I hadn’t been to the Community Center since Griff had died three months ago. School and work, that’s all Marj and I did. How many people did Griff know, anyway?

I asked the next hugger that question.

The large—and we’re talking really large—red-headed woman widened her eyes, “Why, Griff helped just about every person here, at one time or another. Most times you didn’t need to even ask for help. Griff just knew.”

I thought about that. Griff had always been busy doing this or that for someone, it was true. But he’d never seemed to be flustered or overworked or anything like that. It was just as natural as breathing in and out for him. “Thanks. I just didn’t know so many people loved him.”

“Too bad you didn’t know,” she said. “‘Cause he was special.”

“We’re doing a project at school in Griff’s honor.” I handed her a brochure.

She glanced at it, then stuck it in a bag hanging from her arm. “We do the Halloween Carnival, but otherwise, well, we don’t get involved with the school much.”

“That’s okay,” I said politely and tried to move on. But I had to dodge another hug.

Finally, she moved on. But behind me a big sneeze erupted, followed by a chorus of “Bless you.” Spinning around, I saw the redhead woman rub her freckled nose with the back of her fat hand. She saw me and smiled and waved again.

I shivered. It was cold season, all right.

By now, over ten minutes had passed, so I headed back. I wove through the crowd. Crossed the ocean of empty space. Dragged myself up on the deserted island of the Bread Project booth.

Even with the extra kids helping, it looked like we had already surrendered. The women were just sitting on metal chairs, not even talking; just staring across the empty space at the busy booths. Marj still had on her black mask. It didn’t hide her sadness, but it did prevent her from making eye contact with the others.

They all reminded me of third grade, the year I tried soccer, and the team was the worst ever, losing every game except one. One game we lost by a score of 15-0. It was a complete team failure. Never played again. This Bread Project team didn’t have much of a chance, either. The Project was going to fail.

Nor did Alli or Toby or Sam or Marisa or anyone have much encouragement.

“Kids are eating candy. Not bread.”

“No one wants our flyers. If they take a flyer, I find it on the floor later.”

“What can we do?” I asked.

“We’ll try again,” Alli said. She took up her basket and flyers again and tiptoed across the open space like she was walking on water. As she disappeared into the crowd, we heard her call, “Free bread!”

Toby sighed and said, “Well, working together, we can finish fast and then go trick-or-treating. I bet three chocolate bars that I can hand out more than you.”

It was the only thing that sent me back into the aisles. I loved chocolate, and I could never turn down a bet from Toby.

We spent the next thirty minutes hawking bread samples. Picking up flyers people had dropped and putting them in someone else’s hand. No real progress, but we tried.

By the end of it all, we were tired, and ready to get out of the Community Center. We cleaned and packed up quickly, then divided up into three cars to finally go trick-or-treating.