Chapter 4
“You’ll have to wait and see. I don’t know right now. All the beds are empty, but if you’re not here when we start taking people in, then you’re not going to be staying. I don’t like to say it like that, but that’s what it is.”
Giving the young man in a heavy jacket a small bag of food, she continued. “And we’re not serving food to the public until tomorrow. But you should come early because breakfast is the best of what we serve.” His coat fit too big, and the shirts that he had on made him look bigger than what he was, and uncomfortable in where he was.
He had on what looked like a couple of pair of pants. The sweat pants could be seen up under his pants, pulled and tied around the waist. The only thing that looked something natural about the activity of the city was that his sneakers looked brand new.
The hat he wore pulled down tight over his face. He had tried to tell the women that blocked the entrance to the front door of the shelter that he didn’t have a place to stay, that he had been staying outside for the past couple of weeks, and that it was cold.
“Can I just take a shower, and then I can leave, and it won’t be a problem?”
The woman shut the door, shaking her head, “Breakfast,” she said through the door windows.
The young man turned on the sidewalk, looking up the street at the opening of the street, and the store across the street on the corner.
Cousin had walked the entire park way to the last of the downtown buildings. The sidewalk of the park curved into downtown where the height of the buildings began to shadow the streets in front of the park way. To use the last entrance of the park way had been a good little walk, seeing the exit from the sidewalk through the entrance into the streets downtown.
Passing the last of the buildings to behind the entire of the downtown area, the entrance to the park way was blocked with construction equipment, and what looked like park recreation vehicles.
The wall went around the entire park way, up across, and back up the street to where he had walked from. To walk back to the front entrance would take more time, and put him further away from what he had wanted to do. He thought, did he want to stay and sleep out in the city or walk back to the alley?
He didn’t know. He would first have to find out about the shelter, and the food. He knew he needed to count how much money he had on him before he went up into downtown. He didn’t like to walk around with a lot of money, without having something to do or somewhere where he would have to work to do something.
Walking closer to the construction of the park way entrance, signs that said closed had been placed around the entrance sidewalk, and taped closed with construction tape. The wall that separated the park way from the sidewalk, and the street had fallen apart at the entrance or something had crashed into it, breaking it apart. There had been a path made through the entrance that had been covered, and completely blocked.
Cousin walked to the shorter side of the wall, making an attempt to climb over. The way his bones cracked and pulled, his muscles sored, and the swell his legs, Cousin rolled on top the wall, rolling over, falling to the ground. The fall was hard, as the large man fell, hitting the ground hard.
Turning over on the ground, Cousin climbed from his knees to his feet. The line of parked cars, and lined houses crowded the street and cluttered the sidewalk. The street, this far down from the middle of the park way, was barely enough room for cars to be parked on both sides without blocking the middle of the street.
The street was quiet, the busy street of the downtown main street in view, the hectic passing back and forth of cars, and people walking in all types of directions. From where Cousin stood against the back of the park way wall, the corner of the business intersection seemed to part a separate world in the city. Amongst the crowds on the corner, there was no room to move if the crowd wasn’t moving, and when the people moved, you had to move.
The house door opened across the street as the muscled build men walked out the front doors, walking down the steps onto the sidewalk. A woman’s voice could be heard coming from within the house, talking out the front door. Cousin began to walk slowly away from the park way, looking for somewhere to cross the street, his head turning into view of the downtown buildings.
The woman, at first sounded like she was speaking English, but as he continued to listen, Cousin couldn’t understand what she was saying. The two men on the sidewalk had not yet seen him across the street, beginning talk. He didn’t know what language they were speaking as one of the men, with a heavy accent, said something to the woman in the house. It sounded like she was fussing about something.
Cousin didn’t want to cross the street with the two men standing so close to where he was walking. Looking up at the sun, it had moved further up into the air, a little further above the tops of the trees, the slant of his shadow stretching across the sidewalk.
Two more men walked out the house with what looked like boxes in their hands. The boxes looked brand new, opened and taped around the sides.
One of the men on the sidewalk walked to the designer car that sat on the street, opening the front door driver door, reaching into the car. The trunk of the car came up, as the men with the boxes walked to the back of the car. The strong sound of their accent began to sound in the quiet of the area. Finally, a man walked from the house with a small carry bag across his shoulders.
As Cousin tried to further his distance from the group of men, he noticed that the last man that walked out the house had something that bulge against the side of his hip. Cousin was too far away to tell what it was, but could see the print it made on his back side, under his shirt. Putting the bag in the car, he closed the trunk.
The men with the boxes still held the boxes in their hands, as the man at the driver door pointed to a car that sat across the tiny street in front of the park way. The one man that had not moved from the sidewalk said something to the other three men, running across the street to the other designer car.
Cousin could see he also had something around his waist that showed up under his shirt. Looking back up the street in the opposite direction of where he was walking, he turned around to walk back down the street, away from the city.
He could feel that he had walked in on some people that he didn’t want to be around. They might be into some type business where they didn’t want no one around, having not seen yet Cousin behind the clutter of cars, further up the street.
The woman’s voice called from inside the house again, this time sounding angry. One of the men looked up at the house from the car across the street. As Cousin tried to walk further up the street behind the cars, the man begin to look in his direction, seeing the large moving figure in contrast to the cars.
He had seen him, Cousin thought, bending down to mess with his boots, standing up again to begin to walk back in their direction, away from the park way main street.
The group of men began to talk to one another. Their voices picked up in speed, and they sounded agitated.
Walking pass where he had fallen from the wall, he began to walk up on the one man that had crossed the street to the second car. Cousin could see the bulge again underneath the shirt on the man’s side.
The two men with the boxes crossed the street as Cousin walked up on the car, and the man. They all began to speak across to one another, across the opening of the small street. Cousin felt alone as he looked for some more people that would see him, see what was going on.
The men put the boxes on the sidewalk as Cousin moved into the grass of the sidewalk to walk by. Not wanting to look, he could feel the panic as all four men turned in his direction. The one man grabbed the bulge from his waist as the second of the group of four men said something to him in a heavy accent.
“Hello, sir. Can I take a little bit of your time?” grabbing through the top of the boxes, pulling out what looked like a flyer for something. The first man pulled the phone from his waist side, to begin talking on the phone. The one man that had began speaking to Cousin, motioned to one of the men with the boxes to get something from the car across the street, handing him the car keys.
The man that had initially started talking to Cousin continued. “Something we want to do at the park way,” slowing in his talk as he began to look at Cousin; the clothes he had on, the way he dressed his clothes, the coat, his hair. He was not a customer.
He handed the flyer to Cousin in hesitation. Cousin could see what looked like a price of thirty-five dollars for something. He saw the words ‘park way’ across the flyer.
Cousin reached out, grabbing the flyer. The dirt from his hands told that he had been sleeping outside.
The second of the first two men ran back across the street with the small bag Cousin had seen him put in the trunk. Turning to each other, they began to talk to each other, Cousin not understanding what they were saying. They seemed to be in disagreement, the man that held the bag digging into the bag, pulling out what looked like some type of ticket.
Handing it to Cousin, he smiled, “It’s going to be fun,” with a thick accent in English. Cousin didn’t look down, looking again across the waist of the men. The one man continued his conversation on the phone.
Though the language was different, and their clothes were new and clean, and he was dirty, he didn’t feel that he was lost or that far gone where he didn’t belong. He was just going through what he was going through.
The second man with the bulge from his waist, pulled what was a phone from his waist, pressing some numbers, walking across the street back up into the house.
Cousin looked down at the ticket and flyer. “Thank you,” he said to begin walking again into the direction he had initially started on. Before he could get into his walk away from the group of men, the man that had handed him the flyer said something to him.
“Hold on a second.”
The man reached into his pocket, pulling out a fold of money. Pulling a couple of dollars from what he had in his hand, handed it to Cousin.
Cousin shook his head no. He felt that he had been wrong, and that they had already given too much. “I think I’ve already taken too much,” he sounded over the group of men.
The man walked closer to Cousin, pushing the money in his hand. Cousin smiled, wanting to give the money back but not wanting to argue, said thank you.
“Thank you for the ticket,” he said turning, continuing in his walk to behind where the city came up on the downtown buildings. The man turned around, walking back to the group of men on the sidewalk. Further up the street rounding the corner, Cousin put the flyer, and ticket in the inside of his coat, putting the money into his pocket to the towering size of one of the downtown buildings. The size of the building blocked the light of the sun in all directions, creating the large shadow that covered the part of downtown where he was.
The building was one of the older of the downtown buildings, the bottom of the building made up of brick, turning into concrete further up the floors.
The downtown of the city was busy, but from this building, the commotion of the people was quiet. The shadows of the older building created what seemed like a large dark alley in the middle of the street with the stores, and the dark of the food places that cluttered the sidewalk.
Walking passed the alley of the building, Cousin looked at the stain and stench of the small alley walk way. Straight through the alley, to the other side of the back of the building, he could see the alley way lead pass the downtown building to the busiest street downtown.
He could see the clutter of cars, stopped from the traffic lights, stopped in the entrance of the alley on the street. One of the cars turned from its stopped position, turning down the alley toward him.
Cousin walked pass the alley to the corner of the small eatery, tables and chairs stacked to the side as the restaurant was about to open. The car pulled to the open end of the small alley, stopping at the sidewalk, and where Cousin stood. The driver inside the car looked both ways up the street before turning toward the park way away from downtown.
The waiter from the small eatery walked out onto the sidewalk to begin putting chairs and tables around the umbrellas that stood in their stand. Seeing Cousin and the tire in his demeanor, began to talk to him.
“What’s good with you? How are you doing this morning?”
Still thinking about the shelter, Cousin gargled the thoughts of what to say with what he said, finally just shaking his head.
Looking back up the street, he could see in the distance what looked like the curved end of the park way that went back around, and up away from the city. A couple more streets over, and he would be in the center of the downtown of the city, and the shelter would be a couple more streets over.
The waiter continued to stare at Cousin, looking at his clothes and coat, the way he had his hat pulled over his face.
“It was pretty cold last night, wasn’t it?” looking in the direction of the sun, feeling the little strains of heat coming through the shadows of the building of the eatery, and amass of umbrellas.
“I just moved into one of the rooms around the corner, in the older buildings toward the end of the city. Cheaper than an apartment, everything so ridiculous with the price of rent. And they don’t have no heat in the room or the building. With just one bed cover, it was terrible.”
Cousin looked at the umbrellas in the dark shade of the building front. He walked by the eatery all the time, but had never paid no attention to it, having no money. He thought it had been cold, but he couldn’t really feel it. And the cold from last night was nothing compared to what it would be coming up, and what it had been in the past.
Finally waving to Cousin to hold on, the waiter walked back into the eatery. Cousin could see through the store front windows that there were maybe two or three more people in the store cleaning the floor, and wiping the counters. Someone was messing with the cash register as the waiter walked behind the counter, disappearing behind some more doors, probably into the kitchen.
Looking up again, Cousin could see the sun begin in its curve to the pinnacle of its height in the sky, the shadows of the building moving away from the direction of the shelter.
The waiter came from behind the closed doors, from behind the serving counter, walking through the front doors. He had something in his hand, what looked like a small paper bag. Walking over to where Cousin stood on the side walk, he handed the small bag to Cousin.
“What’s up? Here’s a couple of cakes from the bakery. It’s not old, but we made some more this morning, and they were just in the way. Do you want them?”
Cousin grabbed the bag from the waiter’s hand, shaking his head. It was really what he needed in his tire. He thought about sitting down in the alley, to the quiet of the generosity, to again focus on the noise of the downtown.
Looking into the bag, he could see what looked like four or five pieces of large cakes stuffed into the bag. He smiled a little, his face looking disgruntled and cold, the cold from the sleep in the park way defining itself.
“Thank you,” he said, not really knowing what to say, not wanting to say too much. Cousin repeated himself, “Thank you,” looking into the bag again.
The waiter continued, “I have to get back to work. If you get lost around here in the mornings, I work every day. Come through the store, and I might have something for you,” sounding kind of apprehensive in what he was saying to continue. “I mean I’m not trying to be disrespectful. I don’t know, if you want to.”
Cousin understood. He would feel like that sometimes, when certain people would give him money, and he knew that they were poor, and possibly headed in his direction, and not wanting to be in their business. The pain of the system of the city was distraught.
Cousin squeezed the small bag of cakes into his front coat pocket, thanking the waiter again. The waiter walked back into the eatery having put the umbrellas up as Cousin continued up the sidewalk to the corner.
Crossing the street, he began his walk into the worst part of downtown; the main street where the downtown buildings lined around against the sidewalks. There would be the hassle of so many people that would be around, everywhere. And with it being so close to lunch time, the people would be out in large numbers, going back and forth, up and down the sidewalk.
From where Cousin stood, looking up the street, he could already hear the blowing of the car horns, and the noise of the people. A group of people passed him on bicycles in the street. They looked like they were advertising bicycles, as the rode down into the traffic light, turning into the parked traffic on the downtown main street.
Cousin passed the banking building, the inside of the building crowded with people working, and as customers. He continued up the sidewalk, walking to another small alley. Cousin stopped at the alley entrance, thinking to avoid the people and car traffic, walked into alley. He figured he had only maybe forty or fifty dollars, so it wouldn’t look like he had some money on him. Not that it was a problem, but to have to worry about somebody attacking him for his little money would increase the already stress of being downtown.
From where he stood on the sidewalk, he could see the large trash can sitting in the middle of the alley, pushed against the banking building. He needed to sit down for a minute to make sure how much money he had been given before he came up on the shelter.
How he timed it, by the time he got to the shelter, if he waited, he would be one of the first ones there. But he still didn’t know if they were serving food to the public. He should have asked the waiter at the eatery what day it was.
Walking through the alley from the sidewalk, the closer he got to the trash can, the more his legs, and his back called for him to sit down. To stretch out again somewhere was what he needed.
Looking at the alley, the filth of the worst part of the city had not destroyed it; just water and cement. Not too much paper on the ground, no unwanted waste of food thrown around, no distasteful smell of urine. And the large trash can lid completely covered over the entire top of the discarded wasted material.
Cousin grabbed the top part of the trash can with his hands, grabbing the plastic crate that had been sitting there waiting for him. Moving the crate behind the trash can, he sat down, the rough grooves of the plastic coming up through his pants.
Sliding the crate back further up against the building, Cousin leaned back against the building. How he sat behind the trash can, he couldn’t be seen from the sidewalk entrance. Moving around on the crate, the crate became uncomfortable how he sat, stretching out on the alley street, moving the trash can further into the middle of the alley.
He could smell the distaste of trash in the can, and what sounded like something moving in the trash can; probably rats, standing up, moving away from the trash can, closer to the entrance of the alley.
Cousin looked around the alley, walking back to the trash can. He opened the top, pulling the large folded cardboard from the trash. Walking back up the alley, against the side of the building across the alley from the bank, Cousin put the cardboard on the alley street. Lying down in his clothes, he closed his eyes to the commotion on the downtown main street . . . .
The woman hesitated in opening the door, looking through the door windows at the man who stood in front of the doors. He had on just a thin sweater, and some pants that looked like they fit to tight.
“We’re not taking people in until later on in the afternoon, finally opening the front doors. “And you have to make sure you come early with it being so many people, and so few spaces available. And we don’t feed the public until tomorrow. And when you come, make sure you come for the breakfast because at breakfast, we let you take some of the food with you.” Looking at the thin of the man’s sweater, feeling the cold of the outside air against the warm coming from inside where she worked, the woman continued.
“And hold on one second,” closing the front doors, the doors locking behind her. She returned with an overcoat in her hand. It looked brand new, but was not; the inside of the pocket lining torn to the inside material that kept the coat warm. She opened the doors again, handing the man the overcoat.
“You have to keep warm. It gets cold, and it’s going to get colder. Like I said, you might not get a space to sleep because of the limited spaces. But there is a clothing shelter, two blocks down, turn right and walk towards the park way, and you’ll see the people, and the clothes outside on the sidewalk. They’re open every day from morning to evening.”
Repeating herself to the man in front of the shelter, “You have to stay warm.” The man, putting the heavy coat under his arms, thanked the woman, to begin walking in the direction that she had directed to the clothing shelter.
Cousin turned over in his sleep, there was the sound of wet street up under the cover from the cardboard. He was still tired, hearing the mash of the bag in his pocket. The cakes would taste good regardless of how they looked, the want of closing his eyes to the surround of the alley. It was a necessary want.
As he closed his eyes, Cousin could see the rat run across the side of the bank building, into the open of the alley. Confused, with nowhere to hide, the rat turned and stopped in the shadows, to begin to make its way across the middle of the alley to where he laid.
Cousin kicked his feet at the animal. The rat, at first not realizing that it was someone, turned and ran back into the direction of the trash can, crossing the alley into the trash.
Cousin turned back into the direction of the brick building, the cardboard hard under how he slept. Breathing in and out, the disgust of the rat had taken away the weary of his tire.
He sat up on the cardboard. He could begin to see people in dress clothes move across the alley entrance, on the sidewalk. They looked as if they had just come from the bank or where going to the bank. He couldn’t tell how he looked down the alley.
Standing to his feet, Cousin picked the cardboard from the alley street, carrying it back to the large trash can. Throwing the cardboard away, Cousin closed the top, walking up the alley in the opposite direction of the banking building.
Through the alley entrance, he could see that the shadows that covered the downtown from the buildings had changed as the sun had descended over its highest points in its descend away from the morning.
Now on the sidewalk, the lines of clothing stores and food stores, bakeries and restaurants, paved the downtown sidewalk. In the street, the busy of cars down the one way street furthered into the center of downtown.
A crowd of people walked pass Cousin in the entrance of the alley, bumping him in the arms and the back. Cousin looked at the people. They were laughing as they continued up the sidewalk, not evening saying something of an apology. Another crowd of people passed as Cousin stepped to the side of the sidewalk, onto the curve of the street.
On both sides of the street, crowds of people walked the sidewalk. He would ask for money sometimes on this street, further down toward the middle of the retail clothing section. But around where he was now, with majority of the stores serving food, to disturb people when they were about to eat seemed like he was hassling them instead of them helping him.
Cousin walked up the curve of the street against the stopped cars going up the one way street. Walking pass a group of taxi cabs, Cousin walked across the street, walking on the sidewalk toward the corner.
At the corner of the intersection, the giant electronic store blared into the street from across the street. The intersection said downtown main street, and it was crowded, and the people were out, and the cars were in the street. Cousin could see the hotdog man on the sidewalk in front of the electronic store. He kind of knew him a little bit. He would give Cousin some food sometimes, when he had a really good day at his business.
Looking at him now, he seemed to have a couple of customers waiting in a line. Further up the street, the giant sneaker store sat over top the night club that was on the street level.
He liked to see the sneaker building downtown. How it always looked brand new. Pass the sneaker store, two more blocks over, was the shelter. Still not knowing what day it was, he thought again that he should have asked the waiter at the small eatery.
Suddenly, Cousin could begin to see them. How they would blend into the crowd as if they were a part of the crowd, but something else totally different. The style of their shirt or the look of their dress coat. If he were up close to one of them, the style of their shoes. How they wore their hair. Even the way they walked amongst the crowd of people. They said that they were beyond wealthy. That they were the owners of the buildings that sat in the air.
Cousin followed the group down the street in the direction that he was walking. From across the street, they looked like they were apart from the world. They could have been entertainers or played some type of sport. Maybe they owned the bank he had just passed. They looked as if they didn’t live nowhere as he looked from the city.
Cousin crossed the street again as the cars in the street had come to another complete stop. Walking up on the curve, Cousin was two or three crowds of people behind them. He counted about six men total. They were together, but in split groups. They walked, taking up the move of the sidewalk; a crowd of people unto themselves.
As Cousin approached closer, they came closer to the beginning of the sneaker store, and the dance club. They might be professional sports players, he thought, not really able to see in front of them. They seemed to be holding something in their hands. As the group of men stopped in front of the street level dance club, Cousin could see the brand new of their clothes, slowing in his approach.
The group of men turned in all directions of the crowd of people, each with some type of cup container in their hand. Cousin walked up on the group.
“How are you doing today?” one of the men began to talk to the people that passed by. Two of the men ran across the busy street to the corner, facing the cars that were coming into the downtown. As Cousin finally walked up on the group of men on his side of the sidewalk, he saw what looked like donation cups, that they were collecting money from the crowd.
Another man continued, “Donate. We need the people to donate. One dollar, two dollars, whatever you have.”
Cousin slowed in his walk, stopping at one of the men holding a cup. Reaching into his pockets, Cousin pulled out a couple of dollars, putting the money in the cup. A couple of people from a crowd of people that were passing up the sidewalk put some money over top of what Cousin had put in the cup.
The one man said thank you, looking at Cousin in his face, the cold of being outside. The large figure walked off in the direction of the shelter, disappearing into the turn of the sidewalk corner.
Looking down at the money in the cup, the man continued, “Donate. We need you to donate.”
The sneaker store, over top the dance club, went around the corner of the street, the crowd of people on the sidewalk growing smaller. The quiet of the street, and the dark of the shadows from the downtown buildings made the crowded downtown feel empty. There was the dress shoe store, and the cigarettes of all kinds store on the street. There were a couple of buildings that didn’t let you know what they were from the outside, and there was the downtown convenient store. The convenient store sat in the middle of the walk of the street, and passed the convenient store, going up the street, the beginning of the business district buildings.
Crossing the street again, Cousin turned the corner to the sidewalk. He could already see a couple of people outside the shelter. To be early to the shelter was just the beginning of trying to get in for the night. He couldn’t have anything on his breath or clothes like alcohol or cigarettes. He couldn’t have a bad or foul odor coming from his clothes. His facial hair had to be somewhat kept decent, and he couldn’t be high on some type of drug. A couple of times Cousin had been turned away because of the smell of his clothes or his facial hair had gotten to be too long and tangled.
Pulling the hood from his head, taking off his hat to put it in his pocket, Cousin continued to the front of the shelter. And he didn’t see anyone that he knew outside of the familiarity of the building. The shelter didn’t really have regulars or people that were at the shelter all the times. People came when they needed to clean their clothes or take a bath or just wanted to get a decent night’s sleep, when it would be too cold the night before. Coming from outside with no rules into someplace where everything was a rule was difficult, and unless it was necessary, people tended to stay away at coming every day. But there was a problem going on in the city because in spite of the irregular use of the shelter by the people, every day the shelter would be overcrowded, and every day, unless you came early, would not get somewhere to stay.
Cousin rubbed his hands through his hair, brushing it around. He figured he would have to talk to someone about his facial hair, if he wanted to get in. Sometimes, if part of your stay was to get a haircut, they would let you in. But that had never happened for Cousin, and every time he had been turned away. He could only imagine how he looked now; the hair from his head coming down over his face, the hair on his face having grown out where he could see it on his face.
Cousin walked pass the closed clothing store a couple of buildings down from the shelter. Even though the shelter was in the middle of downtown, besides the shelter, the business of the street was empty, and the street was the least hectic of the downtown area. On both sides of the street, the empty store fronts stood behind the sidewalk. There was the store that did coffee, turning the corner toward the shelter, and a shoe repair store that sat across the street a couple of store fronts down from the convenient store. At the farthest end of the street corner, away from the shelter, was the convenient store.
“And listen, when it’s time to come into the shelter, make sure you have everything that you are bringing in with you. Do not leave anything on the sidewalks. And I don’t think we have any small bags, so you are going to have to carry the food you want with something that you bring in,” the woman looking across the small number of people that stood around the front doors.
The people outside the door began to talk amongst themselves as Cousin walked up to the first couple of people. Looking around, there were only three or four people about his age. They looked like they had been in the city for about as long as he had been in the city.
Walking pass the people that stood in the front of the shelter, Cousin walked up to the front doors, looking at the pieces of paper on the door. The schedule of the shelter was on the door window. The days they served food to the public were underlined, seeing the rough of his hair from the door window.
Cousin looked down at the sidewalk, looking back up at the scheduled days in the window.
“You know we are not going to let you in with your face, and hair looking like that,” the woman said through the doors. Cousin backed up a couple of steps to allow the door to open. The woman opened the front doors to the shelter, the people that surrounded Cousin paying no attention, continuing in their conversations.
The woman continued, “Now you know your face looks too rough,” looking at the wear of his coat, and tire of his stand.
Cousin thought to say something, how he looked, but decided to keep quiet.
“Hold on a second,” the woman leaving the door open, walking into the second entrance in the hallway building. From the doors where he stood, he could hear the woman’s voice through the hallway, and then a man’s voice began to follow her conversation.
Both the woman and a man came from around the hallway to the front door. The man stepped to the side of the woman to look at Cousin.
“How are you doing today, Black man?” the cold from the outside, and the warm from the shelter scoffed around Cousin’s face. Cousin kind of nodded to the question as the man continued, looking at his face, and the hair on his head.
“Did you want to get a haircut today?” Cousin shook his head, rubbing his hands across the hair on his face, and the hair on his head. He had never seen this man before. The man smiled, turning to the woman, “Yeah, my clippers can cut him. He needs a haircut. That’s what the hair clippers are for. I don’t even see why that’s one of the rules to come into the shelter,” talking to the woman as she shut the door, Cousin standing on the sidewalk. Cousin could see both of them walk around and into the hallway, disappearing into the building.
Backing from the front doors, looking up the sidewalk into the direction he had walked from, Cousin saw a couple more people walk up to the shelter. They had a little child with them. They didn’t really look like they needed somewhere to stay, but rather looked like they were lost from the world with no money, hungry. Maybe they didn’t realize that they were living in a city.
Cousin moved out the way of the woman and little girl. The man with them began to speak.
“I don’t know,” he said to the woman, turning to Cousin. “Are they serving food to the public today?” Cousin shook his head no, backing up further to the side of the door to behind the door when it opened. The man sucked his teeth, as the woman looked at the paper on the front doors of the shelter for the schedule.
“We have to stay overnight, if we want something to eat,” pulling tighter the hand of the little girl that held on to her hand.
“I hate staying at this shelter. The people that work here are not friendly, and when they should care they don’t, and when they should help, it’s a hassle.”
“Well, what else are we going to do? She’s hungry, and tired. With no money, and no one around, to go another night with no food.” The man looked at the convenient store further up the street on the corner. “And then we have to get in,” the woman said.
The man dug his hands into his pocket, pulling out single dollar bills. Sucking his teeth again, he walked to shelter door, knocking on the metal handles.
Before the doors opened, the woman’s voice came from the inside, “Yeah, in a few minutes.”
“In a few minutes what?” the man repeated.
The woman opened the door. “In the few minutes, we are going to start letting people in,” looking around to look at the woman and young girl that were with him. A few more people had walked up since the man and woman with the young child had walked up.
Cousin began digging his hand into the pocket where he had kept the money that had been giving to him.
“We don’t want to stay,” talking into the face of the woman. “We need some food. Do you have something cooked that we can take with us?”
“To eat at the shelter today, you have to stay overnight. We will not be serving food to the public until tomorrow.”
“I don’t need to stay at the shelter, I need some food for my daughter,” pointing to the little girl at his side. The woman shook her head.
“I’m sorry. We cannot serve you food today unless you are already in the shelter for the beds overnight.”
The man looked disgusted. He didn’t know what to do, and the last of his hope was the shelter. He continued, “What time is the food for the public being served tomorrow?”
The woman waited for a second, “We have breakfast at 7 a.m., and for the afternoon, you have to be here at the same time as now because we still have people coming in to stay at the shelter, but everyone is served food that comes when the food is served to the public. But you have to understand, that we have space, almost all the times, empty space for the children. So you can stay the night, but you have to make that decision.”
The man wrestled out a thank you to the woman as she closed the doors. The smell of food, and grease seeped out on to the sidewalk from inside the shelter as the doors closed, the woman locking the doors.
He turned to the woman he was with. They both looked disgusted, as he looked again up the street at the convenient store on the corner. From behind the shadow covers of the shelter, Cousin looked through the crumbled money, separating a ten dollar bill from what he had, putting the money back into his pocket. He could feel tension in his shoulders and his head. He knew someone had seen him and the money in his pocket. He was counting it, they would say. Walking over to the man, the woman turned her head into Cousin’s direction.
“Sometimes it can be a hassle I guess,” Cousin handing the man the ten dollar bill. “Maybe this can help you until tomorrow?”
The man looked down at the paper currency, and the amount that the paper said, looking up again into the tired face of Cousin; his beard and the hair on his head was ragged, his coat was torn and ragged, his pants were stained, and ragged, but there was ten dollars for him, and his family. He smiled to begin to cry. The tears came down his face heavy as he turned, grabbing the woman by the hand, walking into the direction of the convenient store on the corner.
Why didn’t you take the money? Are you crying?” the woman sounded as they crossed the street, the little girl stumbling in her walk behind them. A couple of cars passed them on the street.
“Just come on.”
Cousin looked down, seeing the ten dollar bill in his hand. Not wanting to pull his money out again, he shoved the ten dollars into his pocket, stepping out of the shadows of the shelter to the side of the front doors.
A couple more people walked up to the shelter from the direction of the convenient store. Cousin saw the man, woman, and little girl now standing in front of the store, the man pulling out the couple of dollars he had in his pocket. Walking into the store, the woman and little girl waited on the sidewalk. Cousin could feel the push and bump of people around. They were about to start letting people into the shelter, and he was close to the front doors.
“And when you get where you are going to sleep, take all your things with you, and make sure you leave nothing on the sidewalk.” Cousin paid no attention, seeing the people begin to be assigned bed areas in the shelter. “And when you get your bed space, everyone will be called when the food is ready.”
The line of people had moved fast as Cousin now stood a couple of people from the door. Looking up the street in the direction of the convenient store, the woman and little girl still stood on the sidewalk. They looked cold, the little child the only one with a coat on, as the sun had declined to behind the height of the smaller downtown buildings.
Cousin saw the man walk out the store with something in his hand. Handing it to the little girl, he grabbed the woman’s hand as they turned the corner of the sidewalk.
“And remember, before you take a bath or whatever, after you finish eating, go to where you get your hair cut, and someone should be there to help you,” the woman talking to Cousin as he walked into the shelter.
“Can I take a bath before I eat?” looking at the piece of paper that gave a number of where he was supposed to sleep.
“Showers are not cut on until after the food is served, and if you don’t have a plastic bag, you need to ask around for one because we don’t have none, and you would want to take some of the food in the morning with you.” Cousin thanked the woman as he walked into the direction of the beds.
Walking through the hallway, he was tired, walking through to the bed area. In the space of a large room, beds lined from wall to wall, with beds lined through the middle of the room. There were rooms on two floors, and each floor had four rooms, and single beds and beds that were together top and bottom throughout the rooms.
Cousin looked at the room number and bed number. He had been given a room on the first floor towards the back of the hallway beside the kitchen. At the entrance of the room, the number 12 sat over the walkway. Cousin walked in, looking around the few people that had been let in before him. The room was big, with a lot of beds, and only a couple of people. Looking at his bed number, the number he had was toward the back of the room, beside the windows.
Walking past the beds toward the back, he began to look for bed number 2. Bed number 14. Bed number 34. Bed number 3. Bed number 2, it read across the front of the bed post. Breathing out, Cousin looked out the window over where he would lay his head. The heater blew from up under the bed, coming from the walls.
He sat down slow on the edge of the bed. Talking off his coat, some more people entered into the room. People could be seen walking down the hallway and up the stairs to the rooms on the second floor.
Cousin put his coat to the side of the bed, someone grabbing the bed that was located in the middle line of beds, a couple of beds down the aisle. Cousin wanted to lay back, but the pain in the back of his side throbbed of pain. He had slept too long on the park way bench, taking his boots off slowly. He noticed he had walked a whole in his socks, taking his socks off. Placing his boots and socks up under the bed, Cousin stretched his legs on top the bed mattress. Sliding forward, he laid his head back against the pillow. The pillow had lost its fluff becoming uncomfortable in its position. Folding the pillow on its side, Cousin closed his eyes, placing his hands up under the fold of the pillow. He began to listen to the crowd of people walking to their bed. The room would be completely filled in a couple of minutes, and they would call them to eat.
The shelter had one kitchen, and two large dinner halls. One dinner hall was for the first floor, and the second dinner hall was for the second floor.
The size of the dinner halls were large, never completely filled until they served food for the public also, and even then, the dinner halls would still have more space available for people. In its entirety, the inside of the shelter had an antique look. Everything about it said nothing about what it was used for, but rather the structure showed more of the history of the city, the shelter building being one of the first building structures downtown, before the construction of the larger downtown buildings.
Someone grabbed the bed directly next to Cousin, throwing a large bag on the bed, the bed bouncing under the pressure.
Cousin opened his eyes to the man standing over him, “Hey man, you know where this bed number is,” showing Cousin the piece of paper with the number of the bed on it.
Looking toward the direction of the entrance of the room, “That number is up toward the front,” closing his eyes again.
Looking back up the way he had came, “Yeah, thank you,” walking back up to the front of the room.
“This joint right here is decent.” He had been assigned the bed next to Cousin, bouncing up and down on the mattress. I need one of this where I sleep, talking about the bed mattress. Cousin thought of the mattresses in the alley. He had said the same thing when he had first started coming to the shelter. That was a long time ago, and it had taken a long time for him to come up on the mattresses, and that was only recently.
“Hey man,” the man on the bed next to Cousin began to talk. Cousin opened his eyes to someone sitting on the middle bed directly in front of him. For some reason, every time he would stay at the shelter, he would always think that he was the only one, and that the shelter would be empty. It always hurt his heart that so many people slept outside. That there was really no hope.
“To have one of this things right here,” talking about the bed again. “I been at the park way for a little minute now. I found a nice place over by the night clubs, where the noise of the music from the club, and the noise of the people drown out the harass of people in the park way when I’m sleeping. The past couple of nights, the music from the clubs have put me to sleep, where I went to sleep hungry, and didn’t even know it, sleeping through the majority of the night. I think one time I didn’t wake up until it was in the afternoon."
Cousin understood what he was saying. One of the worst things about being outside is that you never could just sleep for long periods of time regardless of the tire you carried. Sleep would be in spurts, and always uncomfortable. And with nowhere to go, no people that you knew, no one that cared, and no money, it would he horrible. But you still had to try to sleep because you still had to try get up, and move about during the day to keep your motivation going. He had learned how to go to sleep a little, staying up during the night, and sleeping during the day. His tire from no sleep during the night would put him to sleep, where he would sleep and not care where his was.
“You found somewhere to stay?” looking over at Cousin on the bed. Cousin nodded his head, looking over at the man that sat on the bed, the large plastic bag taken up the front half of the bed. Cousin could see the man was not doing too good. His jacket was thin and torn, and he had a couple of jackets on. He had on only one pair of pants, and it looked like he was losing weight.
“I found an alley by some apartment buildings past the park way going away from downtown. It’s over by the large neighborhoods on the two main streets. It gets cold sometimes, but I suffer through it.” Turning to the man on the bed, “And listen, it’s supposed to get colder. You should ask someone at the shelter if they have some heavier clothes for you to wear. I don’t know. I’m not trying to get into your business, I just know it’s supposed to get colder.” The man shook his head, saying thank you.
Cousin turned over on his side, closing his eyes as someone could be heard over the speaker system of the building. “The food is almost ready to be served. Could everyone begin to make their way to the dinner halls. First floor rooms to dinner hall number one. Second floor rooms to dinner hall number two.”
Cousin closed his eyes, thoughts of taking a shower after he ate, and getting his hair cut. Now that he was in the shelter, he felt too tired to do anything really but sleep, as the smell of cooked food filled the room from the kitchen. The roll of food trays down the hallway sounded out in the building. Cousin smelled some type of beef and cheese, and what smelled like potatoes and onions. It could be hot dogs, he thought.
But with the money in his pocket, he didn’t have a taste for hot dogs. And he still needed a bag for the food in the morning. To stay at the shelter, and not be able to take no food with him, would almost be a waste. He wasn’t really hungry now, but by the time he got back to the alley, he was sure he would have an appetite. He thought he needed some plastic to wrap around the food, putting it in a plastic bag, where he might be able to keep it for a couple of days. But where he would get some plastic to wrap the food outside of buying it, he didn’t know.
“You not going to eat?” the man standing up from the bed, putting his plastic bag with his things under the bed. Cousin kind of nodded his head, not wanting to move from where he laid.
Finally looking up, the last of the people exited the room, Cousin standing up in a sit on the bed’s side. Gaining the majority of his strength, he grabbed his socks and boots from under the bed, putting his boots on. He could feel the cold from the outside in his socks, and in his boots. Lacing them up tight, he began to walk to the entrance of the room.
Walking past the sets of beds, Cousin could see the struggle of the poor of the city in the shelter. Plastic bags, bags made out of cardboard, clothes rolled up, balled up as bags, the collect of plastic bags. At one of the beds toward the front of the room, someone had two small filled plastic bags with nothing but plastic bags and plastic. Cousin looked at the bed number to remember he would ask him for a couple of bags.
Walking out the room into the small line of people lined outside the dinner hall, everyone looked hungry. Further down the hallway, a small line of people could be seen at the second dinner hall for the second floor.
From where he stood in the hallway, he couldn’t see what they were serving, but the smell of food was not pork so he wouldn’t have to struggle picking through whatever he was eating. Sometimes it felt like he was being ungrateful when he wouldn’t eat the pork. He was not even suppose to touch it, that being the biggest struggle as it would sit on his plate with whatever else they were serving. He never wondered why they would serve the pork if the book said that they weren’t supposed to eat it. Maybe that hadn’t read it or that they didn’t care, that it wasn’t talking about them.
As Cousin got closer to the dinner hall entrance, the smell of beef and potatoes grew stronger.
A couple of people up in the line, their voices carrying over the noise in the hallway, “It looks like hot dogs and french fries. I see some potato salad. I know those are french fries.”
Cousin thought about hot dogs for dinner, the taste of potatoes. Ketchup and french fries would get him ready for his hair cut, and a shower, where tomorrow would be a new day, and he could go back to the alley with some food, and a new look. Hopefully, the bed mattresses would be dry, and he would be able to see how he was going to use the mattresses.
Walking into the dinner hall behind the conversation of the two men about the food, looking at the food trays, he could see the potatoes and the packs of ketchup, but could not see what the meat was.
Across from the food trays, a group of people had already sat down to begin to eat. Cousin looked as a couple people had their heads bowed in prayer. Some had started eating, while some were just sitting, taking in the brief comfort of the shelter.
Grabbing the paper plate from the table, holding the fork and napkin in his hand, the first food tray was fried potatoes. One of the men working at the shelter piled Cousin’s paper plate with the fried potatoes. Cousin saw the pile of hotdogs in the tray.
“You want some potato salad?” he asked. Cousin nodded his head, the large heavy set man scooping a large piece of potato salad to his plate. Looking further up the food trays, he could see the stacks of hot dog shaped bread. A woman standing next to the potato salad handed Cousin a couple of hot dogs, pointing to where the ketchup and mustard and onions where. The next food tray had slices of cheeses, as the woman handed him four slices.
Cousin walked to the bread tray, pulling out the four hot dog buns from the plastic, walking over to the cups and juice. Grabbing one of the smaller foam cups, pouring some water from the container into his cup, he could see the spill of coffee on the table. Looking at the container that had the coffee in it, he had no taste for the sugar that went with the coffee.
Keeping his head down, he walked to a secluded section of the dinner hall that would probably not be filled. He thought to be quiet for a second in appreciated what it was to have something to eat, closing his eyes to the surround of the diner hall.
Opening his eyes, the food stared him in the face. He had forgotten to get some ketchup for his potatoes, the woman putting a small bottle of ketchup and mustard on the table. Cousin grabbed the bottle of mustard first, pouring the mustard on top the hotdog bread, followed next by the ketchup.
Putting the hotdog into the bread, Cousin bit down slowly into what tasted like chicken and beef. He had believed the woman when she had said that they didn’t serve pork hotdogs so he had never hesitated in the eating of the hotdogs.
Taking a second bite, he grabbed a handful of french fries. The ketchup and mustard drooled down his face, ketchup falling from the french fries onto the plate. Someone came and sat next to him a couple of chairs down. Passing him the ketchup and the mustard bottles, Cousin could see the black and cream coffee in his cup.
Sitting back down, Cousin grabbed a mouth full of potato salad. The taste of the potato salad mixed in with the ketchup from the french fries and the mustard from the hot dogs. The large man grabbed another mouthful of potato salad, swallowing some water. As always, the water was the best of the food, and the most satisfying in his hunger.
The last of the people from the first floor rooms came into the dinner hall, sitting down toward the front of the entrance. Looking down the table at where he sat at, there were only a couple of people. Everyone was quiet, eating, and everyone looked cold.
Finishing his first hot dog, Cousin grabbed the second of the four hot dogs from his plate, biting down into the thick dough of the hotdog bread. The bread crunched in his mouth as he chewed the meat, swallowing both. Swallowing another mouthful of water, Cousin grabbed another mouth full of potato salad.
By the time he had finished his last hotdog, he had already finished the potato salad and french fries, and had went to get some more water. He swallowed the last of the food from his plate, the hotdog going down difficult in his throat. There were only a couple people in the dinner hall, and only one other person that sat at his table.
The people from the shelter that were working the food trays, looked over what they had left, pushing the carts back out into the hallway in the direction of the kitchen.
Cousin wiped his hands with the crumbled napkin paper, rubbing his hand across his beard, and over the hair on his head. He would get a haircut first, and then take a shower, and be situated to go to sleep, thinking again to ask the man he saw with the bags of plastic bags for a bag.
Throwing his trash in the trash container located at the beginning of the dinner hall entrance, Cousin drunk the last of the water from his cup, throwing the cup in the trash. He walked through the entrance into the hallway full of conversations.
People that were staying overnight in the shelter filled the hallway in front of the rooms. Cousin began to walk to his room, seeing the man from earlier that cut hair, standing in front of some glass windows that let into a smaller room. Next to where he stood and the room that he cut hair in, the clothing room was opened.
The man that had the bed next to Cousin, who he had talked to early about a heavier coat, walked into the clothing room with someone that worked at the shelter. He was rubbing his stomach.
Cousin walked to the man that cut hair standing in front of the glass windows to begin to speak. “I wanted a haircut, and to get this hair off my face. Do you think you will be able to help me?”
Looking at Cousin’s facial and head features, he asked Cousin to follow him into the room, walking into the room. The lights in the smaller room, where the man cut hair, shined brighter than the lights of the bed rooms, and hallways. The bright of the room lights made him feel the effects of the cold from outside, and the headache he had been carrying with him.
The man turned, looking at the Cousin, and the squint of his face in the room.
“I know. The lights are real bright in here,” pointing to the chair for Cousin to sit down. “I can cut your hair in the hallway if you want?” Cousin shook his head, that he was ok as he sat in the chair.
“How do you want it cut?” cleaning the blade of his clippers, putting the hair cover around his neck and chest. Cousin had wanted a bald head, but a bald head might be uncomfortable in the cold, and on the alley street.
“I don’t know. Fade the sides for me real low, and leave a little bit of hair on top. And cut all my facial hair.”
Messing with a small comb that he pulled from the counter, he began to comb Cousin’s hair with something he had in his hand. The combing was difficult at first to go all the way through his hair, the dirt and grit of the outside falling to the floor, and on the hair cover. The man sneezed a little, wiping the dust from in front of his face. Cousin could see how dirty his hair was, the collection of dirty beginning to form on the cover over his chest.
Coughing, the man continued to comb down and out the tangle of hair. Combing the last of his hair loose, the man put the large comb in his pocket to begin combing his beard with the smaller comb.
Cousin’s beard was less difficult to comb, combing the dirt from his beard onto the floor and hair cover. After having his face and head hair combed, Cousin could feel the wild of how he had looked, and how he now looked, as something not civilized.
The man cut the clippers on, starting with Cousin’s facial hair, to begin to pull the clippers through his hair. The sharp of the blades of the large clippers struggled and tangled in pull the hair from his face, large clumps of matted hair falling to his chest, finally to the floor. And slowly, as the man, cutting his hair took his time, Cousin could see piece by piece, hair fall to the floor.
Someone walked up to the windows of the room, the room picking up heat. Knocking on the window, he began to talk.
“The woman at the front door said I need a haircut.”
The man cutting Cousin’s hair wiped the sweat from his face, pulling the clippers again through the front of Cousin’s hair.
“Come back in an hour, and I should be finish with my brother here,” turning to Cousin. “What’s your name, black man?”
Cousin opened his eyes to the heat of the room, and the relax of the haircut.
”My name is Cousin.”
Pausing for a second to take in what he had said, “I like that. Black man name Cousin,” the last of the big pieces of hair falling from Cousin’s face to the floor.
“How long you been coming to the shelter?”
Cousin didn’t know. It had never really been something to think about. It had been longer than ten years, at least, he thought. He had been in the city for less than a month when he had been introduced to the shelter.
“Probably for about ten years.”
“That’s a long time, Cousin, to not really care about what you’re going to do, and dealing with a shelter. This is not really a place that you want to be at or get use to. The people can sometimes be unfriendly, the system is not friendly, and the filth of the environment not healthy.”
Everything that the man was saying, Cousin already had understood, but he was tired, and he didn’t know. His head began to move in motion with the direction of the combing of his hair.
The man moved Cousin’s position in the chair to face the window to the hallway, putting the clippers to his head.
The man continued in his conversation. “Cousin, I been here only a couple weeks, and already I don’t like it. The help needed is not enough, but the people keep coming, and the suffering continues, but we are suppose to be helping, and we help, but it’s not enough. And it’s never going to be enough.”
Cousin knew that the help was insignificant to the size of the problem with the people that needed help, but when the shelter helped him, it was help that they had come through on, that he was thankful for.
The brief silence in the room sounded the clippers through his hair. The bright of the light dimmed, glowing bright again.
“Cousin, how did you end up at the shelter?”
Cousin thought for a moment, looking at some hair from his head drop to the floor. He was tired, and he didn’t want to talk about it. He could see the dark of the alley, the cold of the alley street when it was cold, and the heat of the outside when it was hot. There was the stench of the brick buildings. The disgust of the rats that roamed around where he sleep, when he was asleep, crawling over him, crawling under him, biting on him. He was as stranger amongst people that saw him every day, but no help coming.
“I don’t really want to talk about it. It’s something I’m still dealing with. I don’t have no family around so I’m just dealing with it.
The man nodded his head, continuing in the cutting of his head.
“I understand. I understand. Sometimes I don’t like to talk about my work at the shelter. Kind of like private business, but I want you to know that we have people that you can talk to, to help you work your way out of your situation or if you just needed someone to talk to.”
The man continued to talk, but Cousin had closed his eyes to where he was, no longing listening, the sounds the clippers made cutting his hair.
He already knew about people he could talk to at the shelter. He had already talked to them, and there had been no help for him. They had not provided him with nothing, but harassment and hatred that it was his fault. He told them that he was just poor, and financial help is what he needed. They said it was something wrong with him, and that he should take medication, and be on the street on medication. When he had first heard it, it made him feel so bad about himself, that he had been weary to come back to the shelter.
Yeah, the headaches hurt. To have to control the anger and hatred of mistakes he had made. To not know the people that he saw every day, but only a few. He no longer knew them or what they would do. The entire of the people of the city had become strange to him. Sometimes he didn’t understand the ignorance of the people or what to do about the ignorance. To see people awkward to make him awkward was difficult when it came around, but he wasn’t crazy.
But they had seemed to want to make him crazy, to make him like them. Probably to make it easier for them to understand his situation where they could have that excuse to not care; that it was not the city that had done it to him, that had done it to all the people that came to the shelter.
The shelter had said that he was crazy. So he had stayed away for a long time, only just happening to be in the area of the shelter when they were serving food.
The silence of the room continued in the noise of the hair clippers. More hair fell to the floor.
“Almost done, Cousin. Hold on a little bit longer. I cut the sides real low with a little hair on the top. You should like it.”
To have his hair cut, and his beard shaved made him feel a little bit better about the night before. Maybe with his new look, he would go to whatever they were having at the park way, from the ticket given to him earlier.
The last of his hair fell to the floor, the man cutting off, dusting the clippers. Cousin pulled his hands from up under the hair cover around his shoulders, rubbing over the top of his head. Putting the clippers aside, the man handed Cousin a small mirror.
“So what do you think? Do you like it?”
Cousin looked at his face in the mirror. He could see that he was tired, and that it was cold. With the hair totally gone from his face, his skin looked roughed and wrinkled thick. He was not old, but there was the deep engrave of cold in his face. How he looked was not how he felt, but how he lived. He could see the alley in his face, that it had destroyed whatever he use to be.
“I want to thank you for the hair cut.”
“Hold Cousin. I understand that, but do you like it? You don’t like it? Makes you look younger?” Cousin thought about the questions, putting the mirror back to his face. He looked again at the tire in his face, and the alley where he stayed.
“I like the haircut. I like the younger look for me. Might keep me out the cold for a while.” The man kind of smiled at the approval.
Someone else walked up on the room, knocking on the window.
“You ready for me?” The man with the clippers nodded his head as Cousin stood up from the chair. Shaking his hands, Cousin thanked the man again, digging in his pocket for the ticket that he had been given earlier.
“What’s this?” taking the ticket from Cousin’s hand. Looking at the ticket, it read concert celebration, and festival. Seventy-five dollars in advance, one-hundred twenty-five dollars at the park way entrance. “This is that concert they’re going to have at the park way with all kinds of people performing. I heard about it on the radio. Everyone has been talking about it. Someone gave you this?”
Cousin nodded his head to begin walking out the door of the room. The man at the window walked into the room, sitting in the chair.
“Hold Cousin, I can’t take this from you. I mean if someone gave it to you then they wanted you to have it.”
“It’s no problem. For the haircut.” The man shook his head handing the ticket back to him.
“And make sure you come by the shelter before the event, and I’ll cut you up, and if you need something decent to wear, I’ll see what we have. Don’t worry about the hassle at the front door. Just ask for me, and I’ll
handle it.”
Putting the ticket back in his coat pocket, Cousin rubbed the top of his head again. He had not felt the short of his head in a long time. Thanking the man a finally time, he walked out the door into the hallway.
As he walked to the room, he began to itch around his neck, the loose of fallen hair up under his coat and shirt. He realized that he still had on his heavy coat with the heat of the building on.
In the room, looking into the direction of the beds, he could hear the sound of shower water, and the bangs of pots and pans from the direction of the kitchen behind the room.
To get into a clean shower, and clean up, the sleep at the shelter would be perfect, sitting down on his bed as someone walked from the shower. The shelter had put towels, and soap on his bed to shower with.
“Listen, all the showers are clean, but a couple of them don’t have the curtains around them so you might want to hurry up, before the people start coming back from watching tv. Grabbing the white towels from the front of
the bed, Cousin took off his coat and heavy shirt, the thin shirt he wore up under his clothes covering over him.
He use to watch tv when he had at first started coming to the shelter, but the talk of money, and tv shows that weren’t his reality had turned him away, where now he would just lie in the bed, and look at the nothing of where he was, and the struggle of the next day.
Walking into the bathroom, the four showers were empty with only two showers having curtains. Cousin took his clothes off, putting them in the front part of the shower. He could feel the cold water get colder . . . . continue