“I’m sorry,” he cried.“Sorry.Sorry.Sorry.”
“I know,” she said gently.“Here are your cookies and a drink.You just sit there and eat them, okay?”
He nodded and stuffed a whole cookie into his mouth.Probably because he thought they’d be taken from him.Many kids from the streets stuffed their faces, not knowing when their next meal would be.Or who would fight them for the food.
“Can you tell me your name?”
He glanced at James and then focused back on her.“W-Westly.”
She smiled.“Westly.I like that.Do you need a place to sleep tonight, Westly?”
“Um, maybe.”He leaned a little closer and threw a frightened glace to James.“Is he going to hurt me?”
“No, he’s not.He was concerned that I fell down.”
“I’m sorry,” he muttered once more.
“It’s okay.I’m not mad.Now, you see that gentleman over in that corner?”She pointed to one of the workers who organized the beds.Westly nodded.“His name is John and he’s going to come over here to escort you to a bed.Okay?He’s a nice guy and he won’t hurt you.You’re safe here, Westly.”
He stuffed the second cookie in his mouth and nodded.She smiled and backed away, gesturing to John to come take over.Then she joined James, took his hand, and led him away.
“Thank you for trusting me,” she said.
“Does that happen often?”He still looked a little pissed, and she wasn’t sure if it was aimed at her, or the situation.
“No, not often.But sometimes.The people who come here are the ones our society has kicked to the curb.They’ve been forgotten, and a lot of them need mental help.”
“What’s stopping them from getting it?”
“Well, several things.No money.No health insurance.No psychiatrists willing to trek down here to treat people.We have a few doctors that come here, again pro bono work, but not often enough to help.”
“Why don’t you write down everything you think people need, and I will start researching what we can accomplish.”
She searched his face.“Really?”
He nodded.
Kleya threw her arms around him, hugging tightly.“Thank you.”
