SUNDAY—MEMORIAL DAY WEEKEND

     Doug is back. He's coughing a lot, even with two antibiotics, but he appears to feel fairly well. Still, it makes a mom worry.
     We're down to two dozen little brown sacks. Yesterday, Doug texted Lieutenant God to ask if he was in town. The answer was "yes." Then Doug asked him to buy more sacks, but he got no answer.
     Today, there were no new sacks. Tomorrow the kitchen will need 25 PBJ sacks, 12 breakfast sacks, and 35 lunch sacks, and provisions are not Cook's responsibility. Well… I'm interested to see how this shakes out.
     Buddy was at his gatekeeper post today, but he never came to the kitchen. He was called in on the carpet last week about leaving his post, so he's staying put. Maybe this is a good thing for Buddy.
     For lunch we served barbecue sandwiches, coleslaw and French fries. We made enough for 36 people. About six folks came. I surprised Fancy Lady with her readied plate—slaw and fries only. She gave Doug a complete report on the residents' whereabouts, and many are enjoying celebrations elsewhere. Good for them!
     The kids from the hotel didn't come, so Doug texted one of them to say, "Come and get it!" Seems they're having a holiday do-dah of their own. Still, one of the guys was kind enough to come relieve us of a plate of sandwiches and a box of slaw. The leftovers will be put out for afternoon snack, but I saw a lot of food hit the trash today…
     For dinner, Doug deep fried chicken drumsticks which we plated with mashed potatoes (and gravy) and spicy pintos. I didn't even want to sample it.
     Kevin… Kevin's "fully furnished back-steps apartment" is gone—clean as a whistle. And Doug is worried because when he last saw him, Kevin was suffering great fear of some very large man who had threatened to kill him. Of course, we've no idea how real the very large man is, but the fear was real. Too, Doug says folks in Kevin's situation are known to avail themselves of the county jail when the weather is intolerable. We watched for him, but Kevin is not around today.
     Some folks denigrate poor Kevin, giving sound reasons for their opinions, complete with examples of times they saw him appearing to be "truly sane." Then they compare those moments with his strange limp and goofy behaviors. Those same folks care deeply about him. Happily, I don't see Kevin often enough to have any negative thoughts. We must remember that no matter how strange are another person's ways, that person was obviously not born with the sort of mindset that keeps us on our paths. We can preach "they should get a job" or "they should take some responsibility," but our preaching will not give another person those inclinations or abilities. Blessèd are the motivated.

     Amen.
   

HARD FRIDAY

     Traffic was heavy this morning, and I made notes to talk about it with Doug, as I inched into town. At the back steps I encountered Kevin, fully re-ensconced on the lift and having a busy morning with his treasures. He engaged me with news. "Doug has a virus! I might get that too! He's awful sick!"
     Of course, I knew Doug was coughing up a lung on Sunday, so I wasn't surprised that his upper respiratory ailment had come back to haunt him. I was kind of surprised when I knocked on the back door and no one answered. I phoned the front desk, and an office worker let me in.
     Kevin wasn't interested in losing my attention, so I passed him off to the office worker. He gave her a rock "the color of her birthstone." She gave him a sack lunch and a drink.
     The kitchen was dark and gloomy, but I finally found all of the light switches. Doug has been gone many days, but surprisingly the place was clean. I took inventory and set some cardboard boxes on the back porch. Kevin had rearranged his earthly goods and had placed his very best rocks on display. He told me to choose any one I wanted. I chose a lovely polished tiger eye, naming it as I reached for it. His hand came out, and he retrieved the stone. "Choose something else," he offered. I got a polished amethyst, and at his insistence, a quartz crystal. When I asked where he'd found such lovely rocks, he indicated that only he could have that information.
     Still, to have left without a picture would have been a crime, so I asked Kevin if I could take his picture for Hottie (that was true). As I held up the phone, Kevin spoke to it, thinking he was recording his photo (live with sound) for Hottie. I told him no differently. Got no clue how to do that!

    Taking one's leave of Kevin is time-consuming, but back in the kitchen there were several pressing duties. Because it's a weekday, the noon meal was only a matter of handing out sack lunches, making coffee and filling the ice bin. There were plenty of lunches in the refrigerator, so I set to work on the 25 sacks of PBJs. Naturally, the PBJ concoction made only 25 sandwiches, and I needed 50. Arthritis does not enjoy opening jars and mixing those ingredients.
     Next I made 12 breakfast sacks, each with a bagel, two breakfast bars, a drink, a napkin and a plastic knife. The knife was for spreading jelly on the bagel, but we're out of jelly. I didn't feel like retrieving the knives, so I left them there to give folks something to think about.
     The lunch crowd numbered about eight. Fancy Lady and autistic boy's mom were the only gals there. Oh, and Hottie called after receiving Kevin's picture. He gives me background on the residents to which I am not normally privy. Fancy is said to have a gracious monthly retirement income and that "the Lord" sent her to live at the shelter. It is easy to see how that could be her thinking, as she never eats a meal without lingering at table with other residents—one at the time. Neither Hottie nor I understands why a healthy, well-fixed person would choose to live in a shelter or why the shelter keeps her. Having once had access to the records, Hottie swears Fancy is 70 years old! I suppose he could be right, but I just said, "Wow! I hope I look like that when I'm 70!"
    "Oh, Miss Joy," he said, "you have 20 years to go."
     Let the boy dream.
     SO... Buddy was expected to come in and make dinner, but he hadn't shown when I left at 1:15. Lanyard Guy was asked to come in, but declined. Two gatekeeper ladies were expected at any moment, when I left, and I had perused the walk-in refrigerator only to suggest that they could serve omelets, fruit, and rolls for dinner... unless they want to dig out some deep-fry foods from the freezer. I'm not sure they know how to work the fryer. Anyway, I left the place clean and took out more empty boxes for the recycle. Kevin wanted to help me with those, so we can be fairly sure that he will recycle them as bedding.

MOST DAYS, THE SUN RISES

FRIDAY was chilly, and the shelter was quiet. Coming up the back steps, I noticed that Kevin's belongings were spread around carelessly and that the steps were trashy, beyond the rock and stick collections. So getting an answer to the question of the "stuff" was first on my agenda. Doug said Kevin is in jail again.
     Really, must they? Why don't we (functional people) have a means of caring for those who are so very dysfunctional? It surely appears that Kevin survives between incarcerations until he can no longer endure it; then he turns a key that will admit him to the only care facility for which he qualifies.
     As it was a weekday, we served only a few sack lunches. By 12:30, Doug and I had filled 35 dinner plates and put them in the warming oven. We were happy to call it a day.

SUNDAY
     Doug has cleared away Kevin's belongings, but they are in safe keeping.
     Lunch was corn dogs and French fries. I no longer get tied in knots when there is nothing for a meal but deep-fried fat. However, Buddy called from the front office to tell us that a local food pantry had brought us a truckload of goodies! I went up front, and Buddy let me into the food closet to choose whatever I wanted for our lunch. There were fresh bananas and oranges! There were many huge boxes of Gold Fish crackers and trail mix and chips and pretzels. There were canned goods and other delights that I didn't have time to peruse. I loaded my arms with bananas and a big sack of oranges which I put on the serving counter for lunch.
     The group was quiet today. In fact, it felt as if they all had a mild case of confusion. Even Fancy Lady was dull. I did have a lively moment with my boy when I gifted him with an empty paper towel roll. "Do you know what this is?" I asked. He gestured that it should go in the trash. Then I gave him a demonstration of the many uses of a durt-de-dur. He caught on enthusiastically and was soon finding more ways to play that instrument--spy glass, trumpet with hand-applied mute, drumstick, loudspeaker... Cute little guy.
     The kids from the hotel came for lunch. Their conversation got my attention! One of them has a grown son who battered a baby so badly that it's in ICU! That real world will follow you around...
     For dinner, a very fine restaurant had donated baked chicken breasts. Doug made green beans and scalloped potatoes with cheese. A roll topped each plate. We didn't finish until nearly 1:30. I don't know when I've left the shelter so tired! Remind me to get a full night's sleep next Saturday.
   

MOTHERS' DAY

     Leftover beans and peas have been coming home to my freezer for future soup. Friday, we froze the lunch corn, and today I returned three bags of peas and green beans for a pot of soup. So I had my hands full when I approached the back stairs, but not too full to grab a snap of Kevin's latest creations. He's added twigs to his collection:

     I am fascinated by the things that Kevin sees as treasures. Would that more people could take pleasure from such things.
     I found Doug hard at work on slapping together 50 PBJs. He's still croupy, and he was not wont to give me a smile. We sacked the PBJs, then I made 30 meat sandwiches and we sacked those. As time passed, he began to come around, and once or twice I caught him hinting at a happy dance.
     For lunch, Doug had already started the soup, so we added the vegetables I'd taken and several other canned items, finishing with two fistfuls of curly noodles. They said it was good, but I wasn't impressed. On the side, we served deep-fried chicken tenders and crackers.
     At some point, I mentioned Kevin's new treasure displays, and Doug said, "He's sleeping on the back porch, you know."
     I did not know. I went out to find Kevin. I looked and looked. Doug waved from the kitchen, "Miss Joy, he's down there…," and sure enough, when I looked at the floor of the lift (which hasn't been raised in years), there was Kevin, curled up in a space of his own creation, sleeping like a baby.
     I tossed two little beach rocks onto his blanket. He'll think the rock fairy came.

     There is very little change among the residents. My boy was there, and I gave him a toy. The autistic kid was there—as was his mom—and I couldn't help but notice her bright toothy smile! This is the woman I've always known as completely toothless. So I said to her, "Smile for me again!" And she did. "That's beautiful!" I said. "Obviously you got a very nice gift for Mothers' Day!"
     Later, I remarked to Doug how lovely the woman looked with her new teeth. "Oh, those aren't new," he said, "she just very seldom wears them."
     Really. It IS hard to understand some of their behaviors—especially those that keep them from better employment, better health, and a hut of their own.
     The kids from the hotel came for a meal. They were in good spirits.
     Buddy was keeping the gate, I presume, but we didn't see hide nor hair of him. Now that I think about it, the phone didn't ring all morning. Furthermore, Buddy's been officially called in on the carpet for missing a bunch of phone calls this week while wearing his headphones.
     For dinner, Doug made a huge pot of mashed potatoes and another of green beans. He baked those two missing Easter hams that were mysteriously found in the freezer. We filled 36 plates, wrapped them and put them in the warming oven. I brought home the ham bones and put them in my freezer for future pots of beans. Have you priced ham bones lately? We're just lucky they don't come from China!

A SHORT FRIDAY

     I arrived early today, so I could leave early. It was immediately obvious that Kevin has moved in on the back stairs. There are several tiny arrangements of little rocks, bits of food were scattered on the steps, dirty cardboard was spread about, and sundry other things were literally trashing the area. There was no sign of Kevin, but during the morning, I heard numerous thumping sounds coming from the stairway.
     Doug has something croupy and was feeling bad, so he too wanted to finish early. I made 10 sack lunches, sacked 12 breakfasts, and finished bagging the PBJs he had made. Lunch was donated deli sandwiches, and dinner was corn, roasted potato slices and fried chicken fillets with a roll. We plated 35 of those in jig time. When he finished mopping, it was only 11:30, and I left.
     Kevin was halfway up the steps when I exited. He had a whisk broom and was sweeping away his mess. I told him it was looking very nice. He stood aside for me to pass and engaged Doug in conversation. I tossed two little beach rocks at Doug's feet behind me and kept walking. The last thing I heard was a bit of their conversation on the discovery of those rocks. Kevin truly lives in a world of his own.

SERVICE!

     There was plenty to do this morning. Doug and I made 25 meat-sandwich lunches, 25 PBJ sacks, and 12 breakfast sacks. No small task. For lunch, we had donated BBQ and coleslaw from an excellent restaurant. He dropped several baskets of fries, and everyone was well fed.
     From my place at the serving counter, as I rushed to keep up with demand, I saw Fancy Lady approaching. She never wants exactly what we're serving; hers must be tweaked. Long before she reached the counter, she raised her voice to ask what kind of meat was in the sandwich. I said I didn't know. Then she asked if it was beef. I said I thought it was pork. Then she said she'd take one, but no fries. That was at 12:10 (we begin serving at 12:00). Lunch is OVER at 12:30, but people often stay in the dining room to chat afterward. They are allowed to stay because Doug is kind to them, and for no other reason. Back in the day, those doors were closed and locked at the end of eating time.
     The kids from the hotel across the street came in at 11:55, plus Hottie called to chat right about then. Doug spoke with him, then asked me to fill in. Apparently, Hottie was missing us this morning and completely forgot how busy we are at noon. But I'd never discourage him from staying in touch.
     Doug says Fancy Lady and autistic boy's mom got into a verbal altercation the other day. Fancy took the ranch dressing off Mom's table without asking. Mom reminded Fancy about manners and that they DO live in the same place, i.e., "You're just as homeless as I am."
    Our little boy is recovering from his tonsillectomy and has a stash of popsicles in the freezer. I gave him and his dad some puzzles and bubbles.
     Truck Driver and family came in around 12:45, and they too ate. They were there for about 30 minutes, and Doug was quite aggravated that so many "visitors" were interrupting the flow. We did manage to plate 40 dinners for tonight, during the mêlée.
     So the noon hour was jam packed with things to do and people to serve. Around 12:35, Fancy Lady asked for special sauce. I took that opportunity to tell her her room number, "in case a volunteer asks you for it." I was going to tell her last week, but I was still too miffed from the Sunday before.
     At 12:50, her guy friend came in. He was very late, but we served him. Fancy holds court with the fellow at every meal, at a table in the back of the room. Around 1:30, she came to the counter and told Doug that it was "about time!" he got finished with his friends, so she could get some service! She wanted a jar of peanut butter.
    Oh, boy howdy, did he enjoy telling her that she had far outstayed her welcome in the dining room, lunch was over, that her friend was very late but got served anyway, and that he wasn't buying into her complaints today! Then she offered to sweep the dining room for him. He declined.
     Dinner also consisted of donated foods: beef tips with mushrooms in heavenly gravy; roasted vegetables (tomatoes, squash, zucchini, portobello mushrooms and asparagus), and red-skinned potatoes, mashed with the skins. I'm telling you, it was a feast. Doug added a little roll, and dinner was done!
     Some folks just don't know service when they see it.