ANOTHER DAY—ANOTHER 50¢

       The gatekeeper said yesterday that we had SEVEN children at the shelter, so I went prepared with yogurts and applesauces today. Joey was mopping the dining room, and those of you who bet we'd be having baked potatoes and chef's salad lost. He had fried chicken patties on buns and a pan of leftover mac 'n cheese.
       I set about making the surprise soup again (and it was delicious again). I was in the middle of adding a little of this and a bit of that when a young man walked in and stopped at the hand-washing sink. "I'm Andy," he said, as if he belonged there and knew what he was doing. He did. He's working off his community-service hours and put in a number of them with Miss Lillian this week. So I told Andy I was really glad to meet him, and that I had some sack lunches he could make!
       Sadly, before I turned around, Joey had assigned the mopping to Andy, then some heavy lifting in the back room, the trash detail, filling the drink bin and the ice bucket, and hosing off the back porch. Andy didn't put on a pair of food-prep gloves until I was leaving! So the sack lunches all fell to me. Too, Joey wanted to make two dozen sandwiches to go with the soup, and after all was said and done, most of those remained…
      Anyway, Ali Baba has shaved his beard so short that he actually looks nice, and I told him so. He said he was looking for a job, so he shaved it. He practiced a few more French words on me. I'm uneasy about that young man, and I asked Joey, "What do think of him?"
       Joey thinks Ali is kind, intelligent, and a lot of fun. He sees him succeeding. But it's the little things that niggle at me, like the way Ali triumphantly slams his left fist into the palm of his right hand—like there's a violence in him that won't be quieted, so he's found a "fun" way to express it. I dunno. Maybe I'm imagining things.
       We did not have seven children! Angry Child was the only muffin at lunch, and he was in good spirits. His mother is just the craziest person I think I've ever encountered on this side of a padded wall; it's hard giving her eye contact. Why is that?
       The pre-release crowd numbered about 10—strong upward bound people with a sense of self-worth and good humor. The homeless numbered about 40. When I look in their eyes I don't see hope. I see embarrassment, shame, fear, resignation, frustration, and a loss of bearings. Some of them are fidgety, others almost cowering. Occasionally, a bright face will pop up so cheerfully that I wonder if they've got the wrong kitchen. Well… it is what it is.
       The cute gal who was working off her community-service hours last month has not been back lately. Joey says she'll go to jail if she doesn't complete them, so he's certain she'll be back. Don't they have a timeframe for completing those? And interestingly, the last three young men who've come to "serve" have been from affluent families who "gave them everything." I gave Andy instructions on the new can opener! I don't think he even knew it was there—and why would he when he's been working with Miss Lillian? He liked it!
       As I was finishing up, Mr. Huggy just appeared across the prep table from me. Scared the dip out of me! I do not remember the last time I was startled enough to cry out. I warned him that I could have a heart attack or a stroke or break a hip! He gave me his last two hugs and smiles before packing himself some sandwiches and heading home. He was tired. Someday, I'd like to see the third floor and observe the duties of those who monitor it.
       And that's the way it is.