Page 6 of Something Like Hail
Was that an order? Was Nathaniel his bossnow? He didn’t understand how the hierarchy worked, but his feetwere already moving toward relief. He got in the car and hunchedforward so his sweaty back wouldn’t get the seat wet.
Nathaniel looked him over, then drove on.“You headed home?”
“No. I need to go to thebank.”
This was met with stony silence, but hecould feel judgement anyway, like Noah had only done all of thisfor the money. And he had, but not out of greed.
A few blocks later, Nathaniel said, “Whichone?”
Noah consulted the check. “Austin CityFinance Union.” The bank that had issued the check should allow himto cash it. He hoped, since he didn’t have an account of hisown.
The quiet interior had him on edge as theycontinued their journey. Noah kept wondering how the dynamics ofthis job would work, but he felt uneasy about asking Nathaniel forspecifics. He decided to try anyway, if only to banish the awkwardatmosphere. “Any idea how many hours I’ll be able to work per week?The more the better.”
“I don’t know,” Nathanielsaid. “I don’t want to know. He’ll have to find someone else totake over that part of the business, because I find itdistasteful.”
“Hey, it’s not my firstchoice either,” Noah said, refusing to feel ashamed. “Things havebeen really messed up for me lately. Some of it is my fault, I’lladmit that, but not all of it. I’m just trying to get back on myfeet.”
Nathaniel looked over at him, the grumpyexpression finally absent. “I’ve been there,” he said. “I’ve gotnothing against you personally. Not yet, anyway, but I loveMarcello, and I hate the idea of him being taken advantage of. I’llmake sure that doesn’t happen.”
He loved Marcello? Were they a couple? “Heseems more than capable of taking care of himself.”
“You’d think, but he hashis weaknesses, and sometimes people are lucky enough to stumbleinto them without realizing.”
Noah wasn’t sure what that meant either. Allhe could do was speak for himself. “I’m just trying to get by, andnot at the expense of anyone else.”
Nathaniel nodded, as if satisfied. Heremained quiet the rest of the way to the bank, until they pulledinto the parking lot. “Should I wait?” he asked.
“I’ll be okay,” Noah said.“Thanks.”
He left the car and went inside, feelingscuzzy but in better condition than he would have been otherwise.Hell, if Nathaniel hadn’t given him a ride, he probably would havearrived too late and the bank would have been closed, forcing himto wait until tomorrow. Noah went up to the counter, hoping to cashthe check, but of course they gave him grief about not having anaccount. No big deal. He would need one if he was going to beearning money regularly. He opened a new account and kept a hundreddollars in cash.
After this business wasconcluded, he made a beeline for the nearest fast food joint. Noahordered a triple cheese burger, fries, and a fountain drink that herefilled before leaving. Thoroughly stuffed, he felt as large asMarcello as he began his walk toward the homeless shelter, stoppingat a grocery store along the way for white bread, peanut butter,and bananas. Those would help solve one of his biggest problems:lunch. The shelter provided breakfast and dinner, but the portionsweren’t always generous and he had a high metabolism. Consideringthat he was on his feet and walking most of the day, he needed allthe calories he could get.
Noah felt optimistic when reachingJerusalem. He knew from his Bible school days that the realJerusalem was a place of pilgrimage. Whoever had named the shelterhad a sense of humor, because he wasn’t the only one who made adaily pilgrimage there, seeking a different kind of salvation. Theweather was warm, the spring days long enough that beds wouldn’t bein such high demand. He still had a chance.
The shelter was on a corner downtown. As wasso often the case, the sidewalk was filled with people who loiteredand begged. Some asked him for money on the way in. Normally hefound that ironic. Today, with substantial money in his pocket, hefelt guilty. He perked up again when he saw Edith working the frontdesk. She was an older woman, tall and gaunt, who spoke with alight accent. Something European, although Noah had never asked herabout it, assuming that everyone did so and that she was probablysick of explaining. Edith was firm and efficient but always had asmile for him. That’s more than he could say for the hulking mannext to her, hairy arms contrasting with the cue ball head. Noahthought of him as the Bouncer. He ignored this man, focusing onEdith instead.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said,already smelling that dinner was being prepared. “I’ll get washedup and help.”
“Hello to you too,” Edithsaid, pretending to scold him. “If you’re always rushing, the goodthings will never catch up to you.” She often said weird thingslike that. Noah assumed they were common phrases in her homecountry and sounded more natural in her native tongue.
“Sorry,” he said again.“It’s been a busy day.”
Edith noticed the small bag of groceries andlooked pleased for him. “We’re almost out of beds,” she said.
Noah swallowed. He usually didn’t like toask until he had already helped out by volunteering. He preferredworking in the kitchen. At times he did less pleasant things, likecleaning the restrooms. None of this was required, or evensuggested. He simply didn’t expect anything for free.
“Don’t worry,” Edith said.“I have your back!”
He smiled as she handed him a small squareticket. In handwriting, it had the date on it and the letter/numbercombination of B49. They really were almost out of beds! Theshelter had two dorms—large rooms filled with nothing but places tosleep. Dorm A was the better of the two, since the beds werelarger, some of them for couples or families to share. Dorm B wascramped full of bunk beds instead. The shelter also providedprivate rooms, about twenty of them. These could be rented forthirty dollars a week. On occasion he had been lucky enough to stayin one. Not because he had the money, but if one happened to beempty, Edith would let him use it. A perk of volunteering, hesupposed. He was tempted to rent one now, but this new job stillwasn’t certain, and he had to work off the loan Marcello had paidhim. Noah would be frugal with the money he had left until morecame in.
“Thanks!” he said, holdingup the ticket. “You’re the best!”
She smiled at him. He would come back laterto socialize. Now that he had a bed, he was twice as eager to pullhis weight. First he went to the lockers, stowing his food andwallet there. After a quick trip to the restroom to wash his faceand hands, he reported to the kitchen. Another benefit of workinghard was how much easier a good night’s sleep came. When he sawthat they were serving chili, he was especially eager for a deepslumber. Sharing a room with fifty people, most of them guys whohad guts stuffed full of beans? He prayed that he would beunconscious before the farting began.
Chapter Two
Noah lay awake, staring at a dimly litceiling. He had managed six hours sleep out of sheer exhaustion.Being in the top bunk helped him feel secure, but whoever wasbeneath him was an alcoholic, the fumes strong enough that Noahcould smell them now. The man had other issues too, judging fromthe way he kept mumbling to himself. Was the guy even asleep? Noahwasn’t sure, but he was used to this. He often divided the homelessinto three categories: the junkies, who were addicted to booze ordrugs; the crazies, who had mental health issues; and thetragedies, who each had a story. Some people fit into two or allthree categories. Noah had mostly managed to stay in the third. Hehad a story, a sad tale that had landed him on the streets.Occasionally he did feel like he was going crazy, and Noah had alsotried escaping the world by getting wasted, but mostly he wanted tokeep his wits about him, hoping it would help him find a wayout.