Jasper’s: Takoda Outreach Center #1

by Cee, Sammi

  Turning from him to the old man, I asked, “What’s wrong with Jasper? Is he walking home? How far does he live, maybe we can still catch him and drive him the rest of the way.”

  Avi’s boyfriend, Zachary, a nice brown-haired man who loomed over his more petit boyfriend, came back then, took one look at Avi, and gathered him into his arms. He leaned down toward his hair, softly speaking words of comfort while rubbing his back.

  Ben’s own face had paled, and solemnly, he said, “Jasper’s homeless, Caleb.”

  “But it’s freezing out there. And you say it’s sleeting?” I swung my gaze to Zachary, who nodded back forlornly.

  “Well, shit. The weathermen hadn’t predicted that. Do we know where he goes?” I turned back and shut the water off, yanking my apron over my head as I moved toward my winter coat. “I’ll finish cleaning this up in the morning. Let me go find him.”

  Zachary’s deep voice stopped me in my tracks. “He won’t tell any of us where he goes or if he even has people to look out for him. He’s here in the morning, and basically sneaks out each night.”

  “But how could you—“

  Ben cut in. “No one lets that boy do anything,” he said with a hard tone. “We tried once to hunt him down in bad weather and he disappeared on us for a while after, so we’ve never intruded on his privacy again.”

  “Sorry,” I muttered, brushing my hand through my hair in frustration. “Shit.” I vaguely realized that I’d taken up pacing, just as Avi had done when he first realized Jasper was really gone. Before I could help myself, I waved toward the remaining dishes. “Like I said, I’ll clean those up in the morning.” Then I pulled my coat on and headed toward the kitchen’s rear exit.

  “Where are you going?” Avi asked, voice throaty with tears.

  “To find Jasper.”

  Chapter Four

  Jasper

  The minute people started walking into the soup kitchen shaking their heads and brushing moisture off of their bodies, I hurried to finish up helping with meal service, then told Chef Krankin—Caleb—that I had to get home. Most of the volunteers knew I was homeless, but Caleb hadn’t gone beyond the kitchen too many times yet, so I counted on the other’s discretion and hoped he didn’t know. Thankfully, he didn’t.

  I made the thirty minute walk through empty parking lots, jumped over fences, and then strolled like I belonged there into the neighborhood where the RV sat behind the grandparents’ house of one of my little brother’s friends. Miss Emma rarely showed concern for the changing of the seasons, but when I’d announced my brother’s friend had the key to his grandparents’ RV and that it would be sitting behind their empty house from the beginning of September until the beginning of April, she’d visibly fought letting her relief show on her face.

  We’d even lucked out that the grandparents had traveled to another one of their children’s homes for Thanksgiving, and the whole family had gone to Florida for Christmas. She’d raised a slight objection to our breaking and entering, but I told her exactly what my brother’s friend had told him. He’d been sneaking over there with a key in the winters since the eighth grade to hang out and misbehave with his friends, often spending full nights there under the guise of being at a sleepover. He’d told my brother, Lachlan, that it was worth giving up his secret place his last year of high school if it protected me from the elements.

  So even though our luck had run out as far as the mild winter we’d been having, we had the RV and wouldn’t be out in this. As I turned right onto the correct street, I prayed fervently that—as much as I hated it—I’d be alone tonight. Except for those first few days in the shed behind Saul’s house after the lawyer came, I’d only spent a handful of nights alone. Miss Emma and the boys refused to leave me alone to battle the elements. It was only after we’d moved into the RV and Miss Emma realized how much it distressed me for them to have to suffer when they could potentially get a cot at the shelter that she started taking the boys on the worst nights.

  My thoughts were so focused on where Miss Emma and the boys might be that I almost missed the light shining from the window of the main house. It wasn’t in the kitchen, but a soft, pale glow shown from the living room window. The RV sat parked in the backyard and it was too risky to sneak back there. It was only the end of January and no one should have been there for another couple of months.

  Crap! Even though there wasn’t any light in the RV to reveal our presence, Miss Emma and I had decided our first night staying there that if we ever saw any sign of life in the house, besides that one glimmering light in the kitchen that was obviously set up on a timer, she would take the boys to a spot we knew of in an alley that had an overhang. We’d never noticed anyone else seeking refuge there, but it had been over a month since I’d checked to make sure.

  Annoyed at myself for not being more diligent and checking the alley each morning or evening as I had back in November and December, I walked on by the home that hid what had become my temporary home out of sight. As I soldered on, the extreme circumstances of the weather hit me. Another thing I’d been surprisingly unaware of as I’d briskly made my way to the RV to check on the others. The sleet pierced my cheeks like tiny pinpricks if I so much as lifted my head from staring down at my feet. My coat wasn’t the warmest, by any means, but up until now it had provided enough protection from the cold. Now, in this frigid freezing temperature, the drops were settling onto my coat and seeping uncomfortably into my clothes.

  Quickening my pace, I went in search of my little family, hoping I’d find them, but then again, hoping I wouldn’t, in equal measure. If Miss Emma had been back earlier enough to see the lights on, she definitely would’ve headed to the shelter with the kids, but on a night like tonight, it would’ve filled up fast. Man, I hated this part of my life.

  Chapter Five

  Caleb

  The absurdity of the situation hit me two seconds after I’d jumped into my Mercedes. Where in the hell did I even search for the homeless? The kitchen’s location was already in an area of the city I rarely ventured to, and it still wasn’t the worst part of town. Banging my hands on my steering wheel, I screamed into my vehicle in sheer frustration, hoping no one had followed me out of the soup kitchen to witness my mini-meltdown.

  Flipping on my windshield wipers so I could see, I shuddered at the thought of Jasper walking around in this mess on his own. I pictured his slim body, practically unprotected in his much-too-thin winter coat. And did he even have boots on his feet? As much as I searched my mind to remember, the truth was I never made it down past ogling his sweet little ass when I was behind him. And from the front, the everpresent gleam of amusement in his strikingly green eyes held me captive.

  The drum of the sleet as it struck my window hit me like it never had before. Had I ever once really wondered about the people who weren’t snug in their own home, or at least in a bar or restaurant, in weather like this? With shame, I knew the answer was no. My mom had run fundraisers to feed the hungry, or helped this one or that one to raise funds when I was growing up, but the only thought I’d ever given to any of them was how annoying all of her flyers and lists were scattered on the dining room table when she’d had a meeting with her fellow organizers.

  Until this minute, I’d truly believed I was a far better person than my father, but maybe not. Maybe he really had passed down the reprehensible trait of seeing no farther than his own hand. As I slowly drove the streets, squinting my eyes like it would help to see through the sleet raining down from above in massive sheets, I worried my bottom lip between my teeth with fear. No one should be out in this. Even the streets were already more vacant than they would’ve been if it was midnight instead of just on eight pm.

  I slowed down—gripping the steering wheel tighter as I hydroplaned—when I noticed a small group huddling down together on the side of a building. Call me crazy, but jumping out of my very expensive SUV didn’t seem like the brightest idea when there were four of them and one of me, but then I though
t of Jasper out here on his own. The desire to find him became overwhelming. I’d been lusting after his body, scheming how to impress him with tantalizing food, instead of getting to know him. Obviously there was a reason someone so young volunteered his days at a soup kitchen instead of attending college or going to work where he’d make money each day.

  Work? Why was he volunteering anywhere when he could go to work? Fisher had sung Jasper’s praises on my first day; hell, everyone had. He was quick-witted, helpful, and strong. Surely he could get a job—

  What in the world was my problem? All of those questions were inconsequential right now, and how judgy was I? Putting the Mercedes in park, I jumped out and ran over to the small group. The biggest of the men stood up from where he’d been stooped to stand in front of the others, crossing his arms over his sizable chest. Where I did my best to keep my eyes averted down to avoid the pinpricks of wetness from striking me in the eyes, his stance was firm and true, daring me to approach them. Stopping far enough away to hopefully avoid a fist, I yelled out over the howling wind, “I’m looking for Jasper. Have you seen him?”

  The man’s steely gaze narrowed as he stared at me like I was an idiot. “I’m assuming you know he’s out here on the streets somewhere?” I nodded; he snickered. “And because we’re out here, you assume that all of us homeless people know each other, right?”

  “Uh…” I shook my head, but that was exactly what I’d thought, wasn’t it? “I’m sorry.” Backing up, I continued, “I didn’t mean to bother you. Uh, have a good night.”

  Even with how blurry his features were with the sleet pelting down, his disbelief at my utterly ridiculous platitude was clear. I turned and hurried toward my running vehicle, when another voice called out, “How do you know Jasper?”

  Hurrying back, pretending that I didn’t notice the hulking man still glaring holes into my head, I said, “He’s a friend of mine,” to the other man who had risen.

  “Why you lookin’ for him?” he asked suspiciously. “Jasper’s a good boy, if you’re trying to—”

  Realizing his implication, I cut him off. “No, no, nothing like that. We’ve only recently met, and it wasn’t until just a bit ago that I found out he didn’t… that is to say… I mean…” I shrugged helplessly, at a loss how to talk to these people without offending them.

  “That you found out he was homeless,” the man who appeared to know Jasper said. “It’s okay, you can say it. We’re well aware of the fact we have nowhere to go.”

  For fuck’s sake, I couldn’t say anything right lately, even when I shut up. “Yeah.” I tugged my hat down further on my head.

  “I don’t know where he stays to tell you the truth. It can’t be right around here though or I’d have seen him. Maybe check over by the woods. There isn’t enough room in the couple of shelters in town on a night like tonight, so I’m sure there’s still some tents pitched. If he’s out there in this, he’ll be in one of them.”

  “Thank you so much.” The woods he spoke of had been the source of a lot of controversy over the years in Takoda. There were those who took food, clothes, blankets and other basic necessities out there, but the homeowners who lived closest to them complained about their property value going down and fears of theft. The debate about what to do with those woods had been raging for as long as I could remember.

  It was as I climbed into the SUV that the sleet coming down increased, along with the volume of the wind. I noticed the one who knew Jasper had followed me and stood leaning against the hood of my vehicle on the other side. “Be careful if you go out that direction. I wouldn’t be leaving such an expensive automobile running like you just did, either. Most folks out here are nice enough people, but in weather like this”—he pulled his sopping wet coat in closer to hug his body—“it can bring out something in a person that you didn’t even know existed.”

  The big man appeared behind him like an apparition. “Survival of the fittest and all that.” For the first time, he smiled at me, and I wished that he hadn’t. Half the teeth in his mouth were missing, and I had serious doubts as to whether his smile was actually meant to be friendly.

  “Gotcha. Thanks, guys,” I said, then quickly got into my SUV, shut the door, and locked myself in tight.

  The bigger man threw his head back. If he was laughing, the sound was lost in the howling wind. The other man nodded once, then turned away, and they both disappeared back where they’d come from.

  Aiming my Mercedes toward Takoda Park Woods, another mortifying thought occurred to me. I’d separated myself from the homeless situation in our town by thinking about churches delivering food to the woods, the same as people like my mom and her fundraisers. But they weren’t trekking back into the woods for the hell of it. There were real live men and women, Jesus, probably even children, back in those woods that they were providing for. How easy it had been to disconnect from the plight of others when my thoughts were obtuse. But it wasn’t an abstract anymore. Now the vision before me was of a beautiful young man, with vivid green eyes and too long black hair, soaking wet and shivering somewhere, possibly being stalked by some random—

  Pressing my foot heavier on the gas pedal, I hoped that there weren’t any cops out desperate enough to pull me over and write a ticket in this godforsaken weather. I sped up again; I had to find Jasper.

  Chapter Six

  Jasper

  It was with great relief that I found the overhang in the alley deserted. My greatest fear had been finding someone else tucked away, hiding from the unrelenting sleet, with no sign of Miss Emma, Archie, and PJ. With the spot empty, I exhaled a deep breath, fairly certain that they had been able to obtain a cot for the night, and I made my way back to the road, searching my mind for where I could find shelter that offered more protection than the four by six foot metal overhang.

  Weary and worn from traveling back and forth across Takoda by foot in this unseemly weather, it didn’t really seem like I had a choice and I turned, slogging slowly back through the sledge that had already accumulated in the alley to huddle under the overhang myself. My feet were beginning to freeze in the boots Zachary had scored for me from the inventory being checked into the future Takoda Thrift Store. I’d hesitated to take them, but Ben, the man who’d donated all the initial items to set up the store, had demanded I remove the threadbare sneakers I’d been wearing at the time and put them on. The old man generally respected my boundaries, so I’d relented—thankfully.

  When the stretch of concrete before me suddenly lit up, I spun around, peering toward the head of the alley where the light flickered off, leaving only the faint lines of a SUV. I froze as fear gripped me. While men, and on occasion women, soliciting the homeless out here at night wasn’t unheard of, the winter weather didn’t seem conducive to this being a completely friendly encounter. Without moving my head, I glanced from side to side. We’d used the overhang in the back of the alley enough times for me to know that there was no way out if I went deeper back in, and the width of the alleyway left very little room to maneuver.

  While I was still contemplating my situation, the light came back on, shining brightly into my eyes. The warbled sound of microphone static rang through the air before a hard, nasally voice said, “You need to move on along. There’s no shelter down there. You’ll be dead by morning.” Between the beam of light and the microphone, I slumped with relief. Police. The SUV belonged to a police officer. The fact that he wanted me to seek shelter elsewhere didn’t faze me with the relief that he wasn’t some random person set on malicious deeds.

  Even though I knew he probably couldn’t see me, spotlight or not, through the sleet, I nodded my head eagerly and slipped and slided back toward him. The rate at which the pavement grew slicker concerned me if I couldn't just rest here for the night, but if the police officer had stopped to move me on in this weather instead of letting me rest, I had to believe there was a good reason. The vehicle pulled back out onto the road before I reached it, so I adjusted my backpack on my a
rm and continued on.

  At this point I’d been out here for at least an hour and a half. By the time I made it back to the soup kitchen, no doubt everyone would be gone. Avi, Fisher, and Jonathon had all begged me to take a key to the building, but the fear of someone breaking in and them having to worry it may have been me, kept me from accepting their numerous attempts. As I dipped my head further, battling the wind, I decided to at least head back in the direction of the soup kitchen. I struggled to remember anywhere else that might possibly be empty where I could hide along the way, but the bright light shining in my eyes had left behind a throbbing headache that increased in volume with each step I took. My cheeks hurt, my feet were numb, and without the nagging worry over the others, I’d become very conscious of how much of a predicament I was in.

  By the time I reached the parking lot of the complex the soup kitchen was in, my teeth were chattering, compounding the pain beating in my head. On the one hand, the walk had passed by in a silent blur. The weather obviously kept most sane people home and off of the roads, and the sleet had transitioned into a light dusting of snow.

  But my shuffle here, the slipping and sliding if I moved too quickly, had been painful; every part of my body ached from being soaking wet and cold, with no relief in sight for hours and hours. I hadn’t had time to charge the prepaid phone in my backpack, so even though I had Fisher’s number, I had no way to call him. Maybe I should have stopped along the way and asked a clerk in a convenience store if I could use their phone, but it hadn’t occurred to me on my trek back here, and walking anymore sounded like more than I could handle.

  As I moved toward the building, inspiration struck. The last time it had rained, Della, one of our most faithful volunteers and the one lady Fisher trusted one hundred percent to run the kitchen in his absence, had commented that if I ever got caught in the rain, maybe I could hide in the car out back by the emergency exit door we used to bring in the food orders. Actually, thinking about it, she’d made that comment on more than one occasion.