“Sorry, Geoff. I thought I saw someone I know, and I got wet from the rain when I went outside, so I just went home.” It’s not a total lie. “I’ll set the record straight with Sandra. Is she coming today?”
“Think so. She went to get her granddaughter from school, so she might be a little late.”
The sounds and smells inside the building are the same as last time. If I didn’t know I was here, I’d think I have dejá vu. We even sit at the same table.
Like before, we chat about everything and nothing until the hall is full of people. Sandra joins us when she comes in.
“Christ almighty, it’s cold out there, isn’t it?”
“It sure is. Coldest fall on record,” Geoff says. “I remember one year when I was a boy when it was so cold my parents got me and my brothers and sisters to all sleep together to keep warm at night. And we wore two pairs of pants, one on top of the other.”
“I remember that one,” Sandra says. “They said this year’s going to get worse. Not sure how I’m gonna keep my house warm. The roof is barely hanging in there, but my landlord refuses to fix it. If I turn the heat on, it’ll all go out through the roof.”
As they keep listing how this cold spell will affect them, I start wishing I could help them. It would be so easy to transfer some money or write a check. My business manager would go apeshit on me, but it’s hard to sit here and know that while my house is nice and warm—now that I’ve figured out the thermostat—my new friends could be putting their health at risk by not heating their homes in this cold. Or by having a leaky roof or pipes bursting.
“Did you get the kids with that survey, Geoff?” Sandra asks.
“Yeah. Good work the school is doing.”
I lean over. “What survey?”
Sandra puts her hand on my arm. “Don’t you worry. I’m sure they’ll come around to your street soon. They’re asking folks if they need anything in this weather. I think Tyler and his friends are going to help those who need more than just a hot meal.”
“In what way?” I ask.
“Oh, you know, some people need extra blankets, a window fixed, the snow shoveled from the front steps, or just some shopping done.”
I nod as an idea forms. I’ll definitely need to run it past my business manager, but I can’t stand by and do nothing. Especially now that I’m getting to know these people, who, without knowing anything about me, have welcomed me into their small group.
“Anyway, enough with the depressing stuff,” Sandra says. “Have you heard about this new thing on the internet? My granddaughter was telling me about it earlier. Apparently, all the kids are into it these days. Something about tracking celebrities.”
My skin goes cold at her comment, but I stay quiet. I look around discreetly, and no one seems to know who I am. Or if they do, they don’t care.
“Oh yeah, the kids were talking about it when they were doing the survey. They can even see on their phones where people are. It’s insanity. Why would anyone care where other people are?” Geoff pitches in.
“I wouldn’t mind knowing where John Travolta or Burt Reynolds is,” Sandra says, wiggling her brows.
Geoff laughs. “Give me some Dolly Parton, and I’ll be a happy man. Kids were saying if anyone sees one of these celebrities, they can report it to the app so everyone knows about it.”
“How about you, John?”
“Huh?” I look up at Sandra. “I’m…um…don’t know, I’m not really into the celebrity thing.”
I’m saved from further questions when a bell rings and everyone starts lining up for food.
I’d forgotten about this part when I agreed to come in with Geoff. I’m not ready to see Tyler or let him see me.
The last time caught me by surprise, but if I ever speak to him, I want to wear my full armor. Black jeans, a black holey shirt that says I couldn’t care less about what people think of me, paired with my worn leather jacket and sunglasses. My stage face would be firmly in place, and under no circumstances would I look at his lips and follow through with kissing him.
No way. It won’t happen again.
“Hey, John, you coming?”
“Sorry, Geoff, I just remembered I need to do something. I’ll catch you another time,” I say, standing slowly to prevent the chair from scraping the floor and getting anyone’s attention, especially Tyler’s.
“We’ll feed you one day,” Sandra says, shaking her head. “Never seen anyone come to a soup kitchen and not get food in them.”
I smile and go around the table to kiss her cheek. “Thank you for being concerned with me. I promise I have food at home. I’ll be okay.”
