NO TWO ALIKE

       Every Sunday at the shelter kitchen is as different from the others as can be. The clientele change, the food changes, the weather and our moods change. The pain is the only constant, though I continue to be surprised when my body protests after a few hours there. Miss Lillian certainly deserves a lot of credit for the whole days she puts in—mopping too! She's a really sturdy-looking woman, though…
       To my dismay, she was there this morning, but to my relief, so was Joey. Lillian was just putting in a couple of extra hours (gee, I'm glad I don't have to do that on my real job). She'd brought a very small child with her—a distant relative who is permanently in her care. In my personal circle, we don't have those kinds of situations, and we are rarely, if ever, fully aware of how many people do. Anyway, she finished her extra hours shortly after I got there, which was fine by me. Country 'n western it is!
       Joey's drama class—I waited 2 weeks for the report. It wasn't good. My boy was the only minority there, the class was totally Shakespeare, and he doesn't know beans about Shakespeare. "I just felt illiterate!" he cried. So I gave him a micro-lesson on how uppity folks in the 19th century had nothing better to do than study elocution, gavottes, and leg crossing, so their language was strickly a fluke of that small culture and place in time. People who understand it have to learn how! But blaming himself—no, no, no. He does have three upcoming classes that were included in the series he paid for, and the others appear more appealing and doable. I'll get back to you.
       His final GED exam for this quarter is next week, and he's really proud of his work, saying even today, "plus, now I know how to spell redundant!" He wants to bring in the list of words he's learned, so I can see it.
       The air conditioning was broken in the kitchen. It was working in the dining room, but we had the deep fryer in the kitchen… I took a 1-minute break in the walk-in refrigerator, and I told Joey about it a little later. "Miss Joy," he informed me, "the freezer is much better!"
       Can opener. Not. "Joey," I said, "this really pisses me off! I'm tempted to take that can opener home!"
       But Joey and One and the upstairs social worker assured me they would push for installation this week. The AC, sadly, is now on the same "fix-it" list, and the handyman is taking long enough for the small stuff! …my shirt smells like deep-fry.
       We served corn dogs and fried potato wedges—plus a dollop of canned fruit. I could not believe it but there is a woman with two little children staying there now—and they're vegetarians! So those children got a small handful of fruit chunks and some fried potatoes for lunch (and maybe a PBJ, I didn't watch). It's one thing for an adult to choose veggies-only, but to deny one's children protein seems somehow abusive.
       Our babies are still there, and I had the pleasure of chipping up their food (and removing the gooey corn dog batter). They had milk, cheese, and crackers, too... and they are just so cute.
       Interestingly, Joey mentioned that the pre-release folks have "not been themselves" for more than a week. He feels like "something's in the air" that he can't get a handle on. He's mentioned it to One, but One doesn't see it. They were awfully quiet today. Maybe it's the heat.
       So that's the best any of us could do today—One made himself fairly scarce (AC in the office is working)—and Joey was almost faint with the heat… so there wasn't any jumping and jiving. Stay cool.

THE DAY OFF

       Susan, I apologize. I knew you would come here after work, yet I left you nothing. That was wrong.
       Map and I actually went to church! We went to Forest City, an hour away, to visit the minister who married us at her new place. It was wonderful to see her again!
       The little church is tiny and quaint and very beautiful. To pass the nursery in the hall, you'd never know that babies seldom use it. The congregation is old, and they are bonded to each other and the place.
       When the pastor began the service, she started with, "Can everybody hear me?" And all but one little old lady could. It took 2 or 3 tries before the lady was convinced to move closer and came to sit in front of Map and me. She'd already introduced herself saying, "Oh! I always wished my name were Joy, or one of those pretty names, but I was a twin and nobody had time for pretty names!" No, I don't remember the lady's name.
       Anyway, that woman made it known throughout the service that she had feelings about things. She was hot, she lost her place in the hymnal, she disagreed with something someone said, she wished she hadn't worn that sweater…
       After the service, we gave our sweet pastor a parting hug and headed for the car. We drove out of the parking lot and onto the little street beside the church. There, coming out of the church's other driveway, was that little old lady. So I motioned for her to come on out, ahead of me, but she adamantly refused. I could have sworn her lips said she was waiting for us—and not in the usual sense.
       Many winding blocks later, little old lady still in tow, we were heading down a 6-lane highway. I was sure by that time that we had a passenger in the car behind us… So I took a right at a light and dove into the empty parking lot of an auto-parts store. Yup. She was right there.
       She pulled up beside us and frowned… and mouthed what looked like… "well, I thought I was going to follow you…" as if we'd all had a plan, and then she drove away (looked like in a huff).
       Doesn't matter. We were relieved when she went right and we went left at the next intersection. God only knows where she wound up. —Amen

NO SURPRISE

       Our precious can opener is still in the box, now stacked on top of a heap in the back room. What did I expect? Why did I expect? As my friend Belle would say, "Sometimes a thing just wears you right on out."
       Joey's big news today was that he's signed up for a drama class. He's nearly jumping out of his skin with excitement. Tomorrow's the big day, so by next week I would have a report on drama class, except Joey 'n me aren't working the kitchen next week. Like a well-oiled prediction, Miss Lillian's assertion that volunteers don't show up when they know she'll be there is coming full circle.
       One introduced me to the word "rock" today. I mean, I knew about it, but I never heard it used first-hand. My goofy brain conjures up the image of a stone—but One's primary definition is connected to his workaday world—a person could, for example, exchange their child for a rock—and twins might bring 4 or 5 rocks. You just never know what's going to come out of One's mouth; his intelligence and wit are probably largely wasted here, but he brings a kind of deep, abiding strength to the residents. And they need that.
       We didn't cook anything for lunch except a few deep-fried chicken wings. There were enough leftover plates to feed everyone. I had the joy of taking some Gerber meat sticks to our resident babies—and they ate them all! I wish you could have seen their mother's face when she saw the "real toddler food" plates I had made for them. …3 meals a day plus 2 snacks (toddlers need those), multiplied by 7 days a week… and the Sunday lady is there for just one meal. I can't see how our little ones get enough nutrition—maybe they don't.
       We needed 32 sack lunches, so I was busy with those right up until it was time to serve the pre-release folks. Those folks, by the way, have diminished over the past month to a mere 5 or 6—down from 25. Joey and I don't know why, but we like to think that crime is down.
       The residents' crowd was considerably larger, and everyone seemed upbeat. I didn't see a sad face in the bunch. I left right at noon, as they were just getting into their meals. When I passed through the dining room I heard, "Miss? Miss?"
       You know, you turn around like you were still "miss," the same as when you hear a kid at the mall yell "Mom?" So I turned around. She was talking to me!
       "What's your name?"
       "Joy," I said. But she didn't get it. She tried several variations of the sound, as I repeated it, until finally another resident shouted out, "JOY!" And then everybody knew…
       So the lady said, "Well, Joy, I like your attitude and your spirit."
       I like hers too :)

NOW WE KNOW

       Do you have any idea how long it takes to make egg salad from 5 dozen eggs? And I don't even have a container large enough for that. I finally squeezed the stuff into my largest pot, but not before entertaining the idea of mixing it in a trash bag.

       One was in the front hall as I came in. "Is Joey here?" I asked. Because if Joey weren't there, I was sure enough planning to drop the salad and turn around.

       "Joey's here."

       I don't know why, but Joey was especially excited to see me this morning. He couldn't contain his usual "air hug" and had to give me a real one. In retrospect, I think it was his pain that was working on him—he had a horrific toothache!

       "Where is it?" I asked. "Where's the can opener?"

       "Oh, Miss Joy," he said, "they're putting it in this week. I showed them where you said it could go, and they also said it could go here [on the main work table]!"

       He went ON to describe having several supervisory staff come to the kitchen last week to ask him if he'd seen the new donated can opener, and wasn't it wonderful? So I'm shelving my worries—there are bigger fish to fry…

       While I packed 19 sack lunches, I told Joey about a memoir I'm working on for a friend. I wanted to tell him a funny story in the memoir, but first he wanted to get straight just what I was doing with it. "You're writing it?" he asked.

       "No, I'm editing it and taking out stuff…"

       "So it won't be redundant," he said.

       CHILD, I was so proud of Joey at that moment!

       One brought some stories to the kitchen—always amusing to get his take on events at the shelter. A resident was giving a sound tongue thrashing to another resident for drinking… but the thrasher was smashed as well.

       Another resident called back to the kitchen, gave me her name, and said she was going to church. I gave the message to One. "Oh, yes!" he said, pretending to quote the woman, "I was snorting crack through my straw when I found God!"

       He admits that he has "only minutes" when he doesn't love his work;  he is the specially gifted person for this job.

       Joey's making steamed cabbage for dinner, but he said he didn't know how to cut up cabbage. He surely has a way of getting me to do things for him—and I surely don't mind. I DO mind that there are no sharp knives in that kitchen. My hands are sore, but I got through it, and Joey taught me how to turn on the deep fryer! Scary stuff.

       I left Joey today with instructions to see a dentist before next Sunday. I'm thinking his pain will send him forth. Meanwhile, my own pain is hunkered down in this chair—right where it belongs.

YOU JUST NEVER KNOW

      Boy was I surprised to get a call from one of the shelter's managers today. She'd heard I had some "concerns" about the kitchen. I was trying to sneak that can opener in there without a lot of fracas… so I felt a bit like I'd been called into the principal's office and was just waiting for the axe to fall.

       No. She really wanted to hear my concerns, and she was very anxious to know where, exactly, I found a table on which to mount the new, donated, can opener. She said she would see their in-house carpenter about installing it—so I have high hopes of learning to use it next Sunday!

       ALSO, she gave me her personal cell phone number and told me to call her anytime I had a concern! Wow. So I said, "Well, we need knives in the kitchen—sharp ones." And I told her that I had taken knives in, but we needed more and better. I told her I'd been obliged to rush to the store one Sunday for a potato peeler because there was no way to peel the 50 pounds that were rotting in the cooler. She didn't know!

       Needless to say, I'll be very careful from now on to not show my face if Joey isn't there—besides, I'm all gospeled out with shouting sermons and screaming "music."

       Anyway—whew—I hate going to the principal's office, even if it does turn out okay. I just can't take that kind of pressure anymore.

TREPIDATION

        Well… I took in the new can opener, and Joey and I found a place where it could be installed and not in anyone's way. We talked to One about it, and it was decided to leave the contraption there, and to let the shelter's own handyman install it. Joey said One would see to it. I wish ONE had said that, but he was busy with his social-worker duties and had more important things to do.

       It'll be interesting to see, next week, if anything has changed.

       Joey sent me home again with 5 dozen eggs (best if used by 6-2-11)—sigh. He wants egg salad for next Sunday. He plans to serve it on lettuce leaves with sliced tomato. I suggested a big pot of pintos and/or great northerns and biscuits to finish off the meal. Joey couldn't wrap his brain around the beans, but I assured him that home-style comfort foods are good, colorful, and nutritious.

       He made a 94 on his latest vocabulary test. Last week, I introduced Joey to the word "redundant." When I was 30-something and working as a typesetter, the snooty editor-in-chief of our little publication would often ask for my opinion of something she'd written, and as often as not, she was concerned about redundancy. "Do you think this is redundant?"

       I had no clue what that meant, but I wasn't going to tell her. "Show me," I'd say, pretending to read the lines she pointed to. "No, I think it's fine," I always assured her. She'd walk away looking so pleased with herself… and just for spite, I didn't look up that word for 2 or 3 years.

       So Joey loved the word. He asked his teacher if he could have it on next week's vocabulary list, and he's learning it. I hope he has as much fun with it as I have.

       We didn't cook today. There were leftovers aplenty, so we served them. I did make a batch of deviled eggs for the dinner meal… and 50 sandwiches for the lunch sacks.

       It's going to be a long time before Sunday rolls around again, isn't it?