I’m doing volunteer work at the homeless shelter in Jepson. I should be done in a couple of hours, or, if you like, you can join me. I’m sure another pair of hands couldn’t hurt.
Blake texts right back.Consider me there. Love you.
My heart melts when I see those last two words.
I love you, too.
The Jepson House, as it’s called, is a large, boxy building with wide electronic doors that whoosh open onto a stamped concrete floor. It looks polished and modern with its light blue trim. There are even fashionably dressed mannequins in the display window that advertise the thrift shop in the back. If you didn’t read the sign, you might mistake it for a department store. Inside the strong smell of stewed meat and potatoes take over my senses. I’m not a fan of stewed anything, so, at this point, I have two choices, decide it smells halfway decent or run all the way home, dry heaving.
Marley points to the back where there’s an assembly line of food set up. We spot a bunch of girls from our dorm and head over.
Marley speaks to the woman in charge, and before we know it, we’re slinging sweet potatoes and green beans respectively to the passerbys. It’s mostly single men bundled for the frosty night ahead. I can’t help but see the distance in their eyes. They all wear that same tired look, with those same vacant eyes. A few women come by with small children, and a young boy of about six signs to his mother that he doesn’t like orange potatoes. I can’t help but light up on the inside. As much as I hate to admit it, life after Quincy has been a bigger adjustment than I thought. Just seeing them speaking together in ASL makes my heart sing. Is it wrong that I secretly wish the whole world knew how to sign? After all we know their language.
I’m not a very big fan either.I sign to the two of them.They have chocolate pudding at the end of the line. If you smile real nice, I bet they’ll give you two. If not, you can have mine.We were all promised a meal in exchange for our work, but I doubt any of us will take them up on the offer. We’d rather they give it to those most in need, not create a bigger need by feeding all of Prescott Hall.
“You sign!” His mother claps in relief. “He’s learning in school, but it’s tough. None of the other kids understand him. It’s sad. He was so excited to be a big boy and meet all the other kids, and now he’s all by himself on the playground.”
My heart breaks for him. I pull out my phone as Marley takes over my duties for a minute.My name is Annie, and I’m deaf. I would recommend you look into Quincy. Have you heard of that school? They have all grades.
“Can you read my lips?” She looks puzzled by my ability to understand her.
I give a simple nod as the boy wraps himself around his mother’s leg as if it were a tree trunk.
“I heard Quincy is expensive. We’re trying to stretch a nickel and things like this”—she motions around the facility—“is what gets us by on what little we have. I’m at a battered woman’s shelter with the kids as it is.”
I’m sorry to hear that,I sign. But Quincy has a policy to meet all financial needs if the parents are unable to. I think your son would be a perfect candidate for one of their scholarships.
“Really?” The elation she exudes is palpable. She streams out a string of unintelligible words before signing,You don’t know what this means to my boy. This is like Christmas for us!She lunges over with a wild hug.
I wish them well before getting back to my duties. In the meantime, Johanna and another girl I’ve seen around the dorm have taken the spot on the other side of me. Perfect. The world gives, and it takes away. Johanna has her face spackled with an inordinate amount of makeup. Her eyes look smeared in kohl as if she were literally trying to achieve the smoky look by way of a charcoal briquette. Her lips are that tacky shade of here-come-my-lips star spangled red she insists on punishing the public with. It looks as if a child drew her out on paper—an angry child with some serious mommy issues. I try not to make faces as I get back to work. That’s the thing with me, most of my expressions seem a bit exaggerated, thus I’m terrible at hiding my emotions. I can’t help it. I want the world to know what I’m thinking, and, if rolling my eyes is what it takes, so be it.
I avert my gaze to Marley. She knows all about Johanna’s insistence that I make like a plane and fly away. Marley bears her teeth, looking for a fight on my behalf, and I shake my head because that’s not what I want. Not here anyway.
Johanna knocks into me with a violent force, pretending to have tripped while shoving her serving spoon into the stuffing.
“Excuse you!” Marley is pissed. Her face goes up in flames turning strange shades of pink then magenta.
I wave it off, letting her know it’s a futile effort. We can deal with her later. No use in ruining what amounts to the only hot meal these people get.
Johanna starts speaking, but her head is turned half way so I don’t quite catch it. Don’t want to.
She pushes me in the shoulder a little rougher than necessary to get my attention.
“Isaidstay on your side.” She chomps down on every word with a little more aggression than I’m used to. The strong odor of vodka hits me in the face like a slap. No wonder she’s so animated, she’s wasted.
She must have shouted the words because half the room has turned to look at us. I take a full step toward Marley. I’m avoiding drama at all costs tonight knowing Blake will be here any minute. With Johanna the vodka-breathing dragon bearing down on me, I regret extending the invitation.
The girl next to her grimaces, clearly embarrassed by Johanna’s behavior. That makes me feel just a little bit better. The fewer supporters Ms. Inebriated America has the better.
“My name is Jody.” She extends her hand, and I shake it quickly.
“Jody—this is Frannie!” Johanna shouts so loud I can feel the vibrations running down my back. “Frannie is deaf!” She giggles to herself. “Frannie is a deaf head. But she can read your lips.” She turns to me fully. “Isn’t that right?” Johanna covers her mouth. I can see her facial muscles moving, her eyes laughing right at me so I know she’s still speaking.
The familiar scent of leather comes from behind, and I cringe because I’d know that leather jacket anywhere. Blake is here.
He steps towards Johanna forcefully with his head gesticulating as he has a few choice words with her I’m sure.
I glance to Marley and mouth, “What’s going on?”
