by Anne Pfeffer
Looking up, I caught the receptionist staring. “This sure is a girl’s place,” I said, “if the reading material is any indication.”
“Sorry.” She gave me a cute hair toss. “We threw out all the car and body building magazines.”
Talking to her was more fun than reading this thing. And flirting was even better. “Hey, I’m Travis,” I said. “What’s your name?”
##
When Maggie Lewis, director of The Haven, walked in two and a half hours later, she found me in the waiting area chilling with my new friends —Arlene, Juanita, Josefina, and Millie, all residents of the shelter, and Amber, the receptionist.
“Josefina, you’re breaking my heart,” I said, while she chortled, half her teeth missing, in her size XXL stretch pants. Inside, I was still hearing Benny’s sigh of frustration when I told him I would miss my first shift entirely. Benny didn’t tolerate lateness and missing work, particularly in my case. He was still touchy about my pissing off Ms. Val and his wife. And now I’d lost four hours of pay.
Worst of all, I might be late for my soup kitchen shift, which would make things really hard for Zoey.
But finally, Maggie Lewis was here. Amber explained to her why I’d come and that I’d been waiting a long time.
Maggie took in the scene in the waiting room. “Don’t let me interrupt you!” She nodded to the bevy of females around me. She had serious, short-cropped auburn hair and clunky walking shoes, offset by a warm, sincere smile.
“Nice to meet you,” I said, thinking this had to work. I couldn’t blow it.
“You’ve been here almost three hours?” Her eyes were full of concern. “It must be pretty important.” She adjusted the bag and briefcase she was carrying from one hand to the other, waiting for my answer.
I leaned forward, giving her the most engaging, sincere look I had. “It is important. Do you have a minute to talk?”
“Come with me.” She led me into an office with worn furniture, piles of paper everywhere, and file cabinets to the ceiling. At her desk, leaning forward on her elbows, she listened to my story.
“I’d really like to help you,” she said. “You understand we’re a women-only facility? I’m afraid we can’t take you in as well.” Her eyes were full of sympathy.
I nodded. “I understand.” It would be enough to just take care of Mom, I told myself.
She handed me a sheet of paper. “These are all the facilities in the area that assist men. You can call them for more information. As for your mother, I’ll put her as high on our waiting list as I can.”
Waiting list? “You don’t have an opening right now?”
She hesitated. “We have a spot opening up in a couple of days, but as I said, there’s a waiting list for it. We’re so tight right now. When we build our extension, we’ll be able to take twice as many women.” Her face brightened as she said it.
“You’re expanding?”
“We’ve bought the lot next door and will be adding a new wing to this building.”
I remembered the overgrown lot with the tree in the middle of it. But constructing a new wing would take months.
I had to get that spot for Mom. Desperation overtook me in the form of an idea. “Who’s clearing your lot?”
She sighed. “We haven’t decided. We’ve gotten bids, but they’re so high and their schedules are backed up this time of year. It’s crazy.”
“Take my mom now and I’ll clear it for free. Right away.”
Her eyes and mouth popped open. “Are you serious?”
“I work for a brush clearance firm.” I would talk to Benny. He’d let me borrow a chain saw, right? If he knew it was for charity. And I’d do it all myself. Assuming he didn’t fire me for missing a shift today.
A brilliant smile spread across her face. “That would be a huge help. You’d do that? Really?” When I nodded, she offered me her hand, and I shook it. “Bring your mom on Thursday. We’ll be ready for her.”
Forgiven
I was only fifteen minutes late for my lunch shift, but I’d never been late before. I’d also never stood Zoey up for a date to have sex for the first time. Zoey must think I was the biggest dick alive. I wanted to smash or punch something, but instead I pulled my car into the Community Center parking lot and ran to find her.
My eyes raked over her, trying to gauge exactly how pissed she was. She threw me a dish towel. “We’ve got to get the tables set,” she said.
She wore her cool, impersonal face, but seemed different somehow, laying out each fork and knife just right, setting down each plate and glass slowly and carefully, like she was afraid to break something. Or maybe like she was afraid she’d break.
“Did you get my messages?” I felt out of breath, even though it had been a short run from the parking lot.
“Yes.”
“Zoey, I’m not good at making apologies, but…”
“Well, guess what? I’m not good at receiving them. I never needed to with Josh.” She walked off, while I faced the incredible fact that I had made Douchebag Josh look good to Zoey.
I finished setting the tables, carried the food trays out, and took my place behind the rice and vegetable trays. The whole time a message ran through my head:
No way out.
I could see it so clearly. A job at the fire station, a job that gave you pride and purpose and a good living. And Zoey. Someone to love. It was all right there, and I couldn’t reach it, no matter how hard I worked.
After the lunch service I found Zoey in the kitchen. “I have to talk to you.” I pulled her into the walk-in pantry, shut the door, and fumbled for the light switch for a minute, then gave up. “Last night, well, my mom and I had kind of a shock. Some bad news. It threw us off.”
Suspiciously, “Really? What news…?” The immediate blackness was turning gray as our eyes adjusted and light seeped in under and around the door. I could see her pale hair now.
“Family stuff.” I waved my hand. “It’ll get handled. But I’m really sorry about missing our evening together. I wanted to see you more than anything.” I intertwined my fingers with hers.
“Let me come by tonight,” I said. “I won’t mess up again, I promise.”
“I’ve got class and family for the rest of the week.” She sidled away from me as I reached for her.
“Saturday, then?” When she stiffened I added quickly, “I’ll be there, I promise.” I moved her backwards, pressing her against the closed pantry door as our lips and bodies met, full on, turning me on instantly and, I knew, her as well. “Do you forgive me?”
“Travis, we’re at work.” She tried to push me away, then gave in as I slid my hands around her ass and pulled her toward me.
“They’re all in the dining hall. Forgive me?”
Her body started to relax, forming itself to mine. “That was bad, Travis. It made me feel like this wasn’t—I wasn’t—important to you.”
“You are, though.” I kissed her neck. “You don’t think I treat you like you’re important?” The heat of her body against mine made me groan. “You know you’re special to me. I wouldn’t hurt you.” I cupped her face in my hand.
“Where’d those two go?” It was Terra’s voice in the kitchen.
Zoey and I both froze. For a split second, I thought I was going to laugh out loud. She put a warning finger to my lips, although she was smiling too now, and we clung to each other, shoulders shaking quietly.
“They’re not here.” The swinging door flew back and forth as Terra exited.
Hidden in the pantry, we were still laughing, her body relaxing even more against mine. She took a deep breath and nuzzled her face into my neck.
I stroked her hair. “Don’t give up on me. We’re good together, Zoey.”
She got the words out slowly. “I can’t say no to you anymore. But don’t do that again. I mean it.”
“I won’t. I promise.” A beat. “So, Saturday, then?”
“Yes. Saturday. Seven o’clock.”
&nbs
p; ##
“Where are we, Travis?” Mom stared at the old house as we pulled up to it. She had on a sweater and jacket that she sure didn’t need on a warm October day. It had been easier, though, for her to wear them than to try to pack them in our one overfull suitcase. The rest of her stuff— everything I thought she cared about—I had jammed into a couple of cardboard boxes.
“You’ll see.” I led her, half supporting her, up the front walk. Inside me, the strangest mix of feelings: relief, gratitude, envy, and a weird sort of grief.
Now I would be alone.
Maggie greeted us in the front hallway. “So this is Mrs. Walker! We’re looking forward to your staying with us.”
Mom looked all around herself, at the hardwood floors and moldings, old fashioned-looking furniture, and things like flowers in vases and pictures on the walls.
“We’re going to stay here?” she asked me.
I avoided her question. “It’s nice, Mom, isn’t it?” I wanted her to like it and be happy again, yet at the same time, green envy twisted its way through my thoughts. I wished I could live here, too.
Maggie toured us through the ground floor, introducing us to residents and staff, then brought us up the wooden stairway, with its faded runner, to a landing on the second floor.
“This is where you’ll sleep,” she said, opening the door to a large room with six beds. The walls were blue, the moldings white. ”These are for you,” Maggie said, showing Mom a bed, nightstand, lamp, and three drawers in a dresser.
Mom sank down on the bed, her fingers running across the quilt bedspread. “Who sleeps in the other beds?”
“Some nice ladies who I’ll introduce you to.”
“I found this place for you, Mom,” I said. “Since we need to leave the apartment.”
“Where’s your room, Travis?”
“This place is only for women. I got my own nearby.” The lie slid out easily, without my having planned it. It was better this way; she wouldn’t worry.
“Is it as nice as this?”
“It’s great, Mom.”
“We’ll let her unpack now,” Maggie said. “and then introduce her to her roommates. As for any medical problems she might have, the volunteer doctor who looks after our women is away at a conference. But he’ll fit her in when he can upon his return. And the lab gives us free test results, but they’re slow about it.”
“Thanks,” I said. A small word for a big feeling. “And as for the lot, how about this weekend? I think I could get most of it cleared Saturday afternoon and Sunday.” Mild panic set in as I remembered I would have to borrow a chain saw from Benny.
Maggie nodded. “That’d be great! I can’t thank you enough, Travis.”
It was hard to say good-bye to Mom. “I’ll call you every day and come see you.”
“You’re leaving?” Mom’s forehead wrinkled up in distress. “Why can’t you stay with me?”
“I’ll be fine.” I hugged her, hard. “You stay here and get better, okay? I’ll call you tomorrow.” I couldn’t believe how lucky we’d been to get this for Mom.
“Don’t leave, Travis!” Mom’s fingers clutched at my shirt sleeve.
Maggie moved closer to Mom, putting a reassuring arm around her. “You and I will both be seeing Travis regularly.” She nodded to me to go.
I did, feeling my relief already drain away as I walked down the front steps. By the time I reached the car, fear had taken its place.
Mom would be fine, but what about me?
Caught
The next day, I called every men’s shelter on Maggie’s list. I was on break from my work on the hillside, looking out over a panorama of overdecorated mansions while I tried not to get dirt into the crevices of my phone.
The shelters were all full, with long waiting lists. I’d been insanely lucky to get my mom into The Haven. I put my name on every waiting list, although I didn’t hold out much hope. When I arrived at the Community Center, Zoey’s mouth was set in a grim line. We stood in the dining hall among the tables waiting to be set. “Would you believe it, Travis? The Haven gave away Hilda’s spot!”
I froze. “What are you talking about?”
“Hilda was on their waiting list, and Maggie Lewis had told me a place was opening for her.” Zoey threw her hands up in frustration. “Then, all of a sudden, it was gone!”
I tried to wipe the shocked guilt off my face. “Did she say who got it?”
“No. Confidential.” She sighed.
I hid my relief. “I’m sorry.” Zoey had no idea how sorry I was. Although, frankly, Mom had needed that place just as much as Hilda. “Maybe she’ll get one when the expansion’s finished.”
“That’ll be months from now.” A beat. “How’d you know about that?”
My brain spun its wheels for a moment. “You… told me about it. When you were talking about Hilda.”
“Oh.” Her forehead scrunched up.
“Anyway. Hi.” I ran my finger down the side of her face, then dropped my hand. We tried to avoid PDA’s at work.
Her tense expression softened. “Hi. I missed you.” We were both stoked about seeing each other Saturday night. My mind, though, was tumbling over and over like clothes in a dryer, going over my options, trying to decide what to do.
There was no one I could stay with. DJ’s parents would never take me in, although they had the room. The fire station had some empty bunks and a history of helping people in bad circumstances, but if my dropout status came to light, I’d be homeless again in a hurry. As for Zoey, I wanted to be her man, not some train wreck she had to take care of.
Driving through Perdido, I saw a woman putting up a sign that said “Room for Lease.” On impulse, I pulled over.
“How much is it?” The monthly rent was way less than our one bedroom apartment. In fact, I could cover it with my pay from Benny. “Could I see it?”
It was a tiny but sunny room with a tree outside the window.
“Do you want to see the bathroom?” The rental agent cocked her head at me, her eyes sweeping me up and down.
“That’s okay.” It seemed too good to be true. “What do I do to get it?”
She handed me an application. “We’ll need to check your credit rating and get a reference from your previous landlord. Also, we want first and last month’s rent up front.” Batting her eyelashes at me. “They’re strict, because there are so many dead beats who don’t pay these days. You understand.”
I understood, all right. “Lemme think about it.”
##
At six thirty on Friday evening, Benny showed up with the envelopes that contained our pay. He always paid in cash. He handed me mine with a sour expression on his face. I’d expected it to be lower than usual, but it still hurt to have lost those four hours of pay from my morning at The Haven. Benny had no sympathy. “You play, you don’t get paid,” he said, as I signed off on receipt of the money.
A mariachi song announced a call on his cell phone, which sat in a holster in the cab of his pick-up truck. Benny ignored it, as I’d seen him do before. He only answered his phone selectively and looked at voice mails in batches two or three times a day.
I needed to ask him about borrowing a chain saw for the weekend, but something in his face held me off. Damn. Sitting in Maggie’s office, desperate, saying anything to get Mom into The Haven, borrowing a chain saw from Benny had seemed possible. But suddenly, it didn’t look that way.
I had to have a chain saw this weekend. None of us had yet turned ours in for the evening, but he was always careful about collecting them from us.
I glanced into the back of his pick-up truck. He had three spares lying in the bed. If I borrowed one of the extras and then put it back Monday morning, he’d probably never know the difference.
It was ten minutes to seven. Once you’d been paid, you could usually leave. “Hey, Benny, can I go?”
“Yeah.” He waved, his back to me as he headed off with Tiny and Rammer’s pay envelopes; they were finishing up
about a hundred yards away.
I moved fast and silently, exchanging my chain saw for the extra one in his truck and sliding my contraband into the trunk of my car. But what if he realized it was missing before I returned it? He’d never believe my story that I’d only meant to borrow it.
Like a movie scene rolling in my mind, I saw my father again, lying on the floor of our apartment, being handcuffed and taken away to jail. Except, when he turned his head, it wasn’t him. It was me.
I couldn’t take the risk. As I drove away, I called Benny’s cell. “Hope you don’t mind,” I told his voice mail. “I borrowed a chain saw to use for a charity project—a women’s shelter needs me to clear a lot for them. I’ll return it Monday morning. Thanks, man.” I clicked off, hoping he wouldn’t get the message for a few hours.
And that he wouldn’t go ballistic when he did.
##
On Saturday morning, I brought my two duffel bags and a cardboard box full of belongings down to my car and hung our apartment keys on Mrs. M’s doorknob, leaving behind our few shabby pieces of furniture. They were her problem now.
And, with that simple act of handing over my keys, I became homeless. I drove to Discoverers in a weird, disoriented mood. Losing my home, as crappy as it had been, had unmoored me. No mailing address. No protection from the California wind and sun. I belonged nowhere, had nowhere to go.
But tonight I would see Zoey. That was a happy thought, my first in a while. And maybe I’d spend the night with her.
Brandon greeted me as I walked in the fire station. “Dude, I gotta talk to you.” His face wore a pleased, almost gloating, expression. He jerked his head toward the men’s room, and I followed him.
The sink area of the bathroom felt too small for us. At six foot four, Brandon was taller than me, but soft, with love handles and a little double chin. He cracked his knuckles a few times. “They said you don’t go to Perdido. There must be some mistake, right?”
I stalled. “Who said that?”