Da-ding…Da-ding…Da-ding…
It had been snowing for most of his shift. He stood at the
door of the large warehouse store next to the tripod with the red bucket
hanging by a chain. In the past this position paid an hourly rate but it was now
a volunteer position with no remuneration. It did put him in a good light at
the homeless shelter that he had been staying at since his release from the
state prison.
Da-ding…Da-ding…Da-ding…
He had no family and nowhere to go when he was emancipated
from government internment. That is how he labelled his time on the state’s
Jefferson. He was sent there for the possession and distribution of materials
that are now rapidly becoming legal. Hell, major tobacco companies were gearing
up divisions within their corporate structure to oversee the exact same
activity he had been incarcerated for a two decades earlier.
Da-ding…Da-ding…Da-ding…
He shook with the cold and tried to pull his clothes closer
to his body. The lined vinyl jacket they had issued him was too small to button
and his regular clothes underneath were better served in the faraway temperate
climate where he had been living prior to his emancipation. He had served the
full Monty on his sentence due to the fact that he had no place to go if
paroled. He was the sole surviving member of his family. He never had any close
friends choosing to ply his herbal trade and avoid most contact with the public
outside of his commercial duties.
Da-ding…Da-ding…Da-ding…
He chose to return to the place where he was born in an
attempt to change things in his life. He remembered living outside the medium
sized town in the northeast of the country to seek a simple life. Much as his
childhood had been. His father had worked at a lumber company in the shop that
made cabinets which had allowed for a decent lifestyle for his family. They had
owned their own home, always took vacations, always new clothes for the
changing of the season, good food on the table, a dog and a cat, and two cars
in the garage when the sun went down every day.
Da-ding…Da-ding…Da-ding…
When he got off the bus after a three day journey from the
southern environ, the town looked nothing like he remembered. The city was no
longer medium sized having grown on what seemed like an exponential rate. At
least it looked that way for the number of new buildings (among which were a
disturbing number of skyscrapers), the traffic, hordes of people walking the
streets, and most disappointing of all, no lumberyard with a cabinet shop.
Da-ding…Da-ding…Da-ding…
He walked for quite a while and discovered the bus line that
could take him to his childhood home which he was supposed to own after the
last of his family members had passed away. When he got there he found the
house which looked as if it was leaning on the garage. Most of the windows had
been broken and the front door stood ajar. He stood for a long time watching in
total doubt and disbelief. A woman pulled up in a minivan with a real estate
company sign on the door. She asked him if there was a problem. He told her
that he was the owner of the house due to being the sole surviving member of
the family. She said that it was in the process of being auctioned for back
taxes. She was inspecting it before putting in a bid.
Da-ding…Da-ding…Da-ding…
She also told him that it was not a done deal and that he
might be able to do something about it. She offered him a ride somewhere and he
just looked at her blankly. She noticed the backpack and suitcase and offered
him a ride to a homeless shelter. The homeless shelter initially rejected him because
he had money. After the purchase of the bus ticket and the few clothes he
bought there was only $89 left from the $200 they gave him when he went through
the release process at the prison. The $89 disqualified him for free access. If
he wanted a bed he would have to give his $89 to them. It had worked similarly
in prison. He worked in the wood shop while there for a ridiculous hourly wage
if about $0.11 an hour which barely had allowed him to pay for the necessities
(hygiene, cigarettes, etc.) he had needed during his captivity. Now, being on
the street with no money, He had no clue as to what to do. Hell, he did not
even feel comfortable going to the restroom without asking permission first.
How was he supposed to make it?
Da-ding…Da-ding…Da-ding…
The woman left and came back a few days later to check on
him. She had told her husband about him and he had promised to look into his
situation. He was a lawyer and thought he might be able to help him in some
way. At the very least he could see if the land deal had actually been proper.
She also asked him if he might like a job. The shelter allowed residents to
stay for an extended time and work if they agreed to pay a percentage of their
wages in rent. The rate was sort of high but it did allow him to move forward
in some manner that might help him. It was a manual labor position for the
facilities division of her company. It was mostly cleaning up, maintaining
properties, building wood signs, and some light repairs. Most of it was outside
work and would probably shut down once the winter hit.
Da-ding…Da-ding…Da-ding…
Winter hit and he was once more unemployed. He had saved
some money hoping he could somehow rescue the house. The lawyer told him that
he still could pay the tax bill and keep the house. It was quite bit of money
but they would take a down payment and they would work with him on the rest in
a payment plan. He had most of the down payment saved when the winter hit and
he got laid off. He tried to give them what he had but the arrangement was a
hard and fast must. They gave him an extension to the first of the year and
wished him luck.
Da-ding…Da-ding…Da-ding…
He agreed to work the donation bucket until he found another
job. The shelter told him that he could stay to the first of the year before
having to resume rent payments. This was in a city where freezing snowy weather
would probably last until March or April. It looked like a dim future but he just
kept on going. The real cold weather hit around the middle of December and he
had not found a job. Actually, he rang the bell all day which gave him no time
to look for a position that paid.
Da-ding…Da-ding…Da-ding…
His location was only about three blocks from the shelter so
they made him walk both ways. He was given a bank bag to put the donations in
which he must turn in to whatever supervisor was on shift. The only reprieve he
got was about noon when the van transporting folks to other locations pulled up
and gave him a sandwich and a cup of lukewarm hot chocolate.
Da-ding…Da-ding…Da-ding…
He worked his post without complaining. Complaining in
prison had severe consequences and he did not desire to find out if the shelter
was similar in its practices. At the end of each day he emptied the bucket and
walked back to the shelter. About the end of the first week he noticed a small
girl, extremely pregnant, standing at the entrance to the parking lot holding
up a sign asking for help. She looked to be a teenager, and always smiled at
him. He asked her why she was out there and discovered that her parents had
told her to leave because she had gotten pregnant and was not sure who the
father was.
Da-ding…Da-ding…Da-ding…
She shared that she had a small savings account she had hid
from her parents for emergencies. She told them at a family picnic in front of
the whole family and relatives thinking that they would not flip out and toss
her out. This proved to be a mistaken perception on her part. They told her to
pack what clothes she could fit into her backpack and leave. The entire room
sat silent while she left the house in tears. She rented a room at a boarding
house but her money had run out and she was on the streets.
Da-ding…Da-ding…Da-ding…
He looked at the sky spewing snow and the frost breath they
both exhaled and told her he would try to get her in the shelter if she wanted.
Surely they would not turn away a homeless pregnant teenager in winter. Back at
the lodge there was a line formed outside and it was quite long. He walked in
and tried to speak with the supervisor and was told that she had to get in line
and wait. He escorted her outside to the back of the line and gave her the
jacket he was wearing. He went in and got a steaming hot cup of hot chocolate
and brought it to her. The supervisor complained to him and told him he was
walking a thin line trying to help some teenager he had knocked up. He
attempted to explain that he was not the father but the supervisor raised his
arm in a talk-to-the-hand gesture and walked away.
Da-ding…Da-ding…Da-ding…
He went in to get warm for a while and think. He sat on his
bed and drifted off sleep for a while. The supervisor came and kicked his bed
and told him to get up and do something with his little lovebird, she probably
was not going to get a bed. Jogging to the front he found her in line waiting
much closer to the door. Just as she reached the door it was locked and a sign
put in the window stating that the shelter was full to capacity.
Da-ding…Da-ding…Da-ding…
He walked around the back to the kitchen door and found the
supervisor and implored him to have a heart. He met resistance and he finally
offered to let her have his bed. This, for some reason angered the guy and he
told him to pack his stuff and get out. They would not take his crap anymore.
He begged him to let the girl stay and was threatened with the police if he
didn’t take himself and his little mistake the hell out of there.
Da-ding…Da-ding…Da-ding…
He packed his stuff and the guy in the next bunk gave him a
plastic trash bag holding a coat that fit him and a pair of blankets. He tried
to say thank you and got another hand in the air. This time instead of a scowl
he left was sent packing with a wink and a smile.
Da-ding…Da-ding…Da-ding…
He found the girl and told her that they needed to find
another place to stay. He had the money he saved to pay there down payment on
his house and decided to use it to get out of the weather. They tried the
rooming house but they were turned away because the manager thought they were a
couple. The man had looked and him and her recognizing the age difference and
told them to leave. They tried a couple of motels but got refused for the same
reason as the boarding house. They ran into a guy in the parking lot and got
offered a room if the girl was willing to service men in exchange for rent.
Da-ding…Da-ding…Da-ding…
Finally, he got them both on a bus and rode out to his old
neighborhood. Arriving at his soon-to-be sold house he jumped the chained gate
and went into the garage. He came back with a hammer and crowbar and made a
hole in the fence big enough for her to get through. He guided her to the
garage and settled he down. He explored the house and found some chairs and a
foldout couch. After much struggle he moved it into the garage. He found some
old Coleman lanterns and fuel and got them going. There was an electric heater
which was useless until he found several extension cords and made a covert
journey to the house next door. Finding an outside plug he sneaked some power
and got the heater going. He would go over in the morning and offer some snow
shoveling or other labor service to pay for it. Making another sojourn into the
night he came back with some food things and water from some store. It seemed
as if they had won the day.
Da-ding…Da-ding…Da-ding…
Come morning he went next door and talked to the elderly
gentleman who came to the door. He explained what he was there for and the old
guy asked him his name. Surprised, he gave it and luckily it turned out the man
had been his neighbor when he was a kid. He pulled him into the house and sat
him down to tell his story. He relayed the life he had led and the time in
prison and explained his motivation for coming home. He resisted bringing up
the subject of his houseguest and finally told him about the girl. The old man
frowned and thought for a long time. He finally admitted that he and his wife
were staunchly conservative religious folks. His beliefs told him that he
should not help based on the reality of a grown man and a pregnant teenager
living in sin next door. His wife, who was not there, would have insisted on
calling the authorities. He fell silent for another long period of time. He
shared that he was a retired police commander. An up through the ranks street
cop who had seen much in his time that conflicted with what he heard in church
on Sunday. He said that they could use all the electricity they needed. He
offered them the use of some coolers to keep food in and packed them from his
household pantry and freezer. He told him he did not want any conflict in the
house at the holidays. He loved his wife and wanted to keep things that way. He
admonished him to keep quiet and things probably would not be the worse for
wear.
Da-ding…Da-ding…Da-ding…
They settled in to their temporary abode. He went out every
day and looked for work and another place to live. The answer was either that there
were no open positions until after the first of the year, or an outright no. His
funds were dwindling and there was not enough to pay for a place out of the
weather. His appearance had grown scruffy and he spent the better part of an
afternoon in the police precinct for vagrancy. The old man next door had shown
up at the precinct with a can of Christmas cookies his wife had baked and found
him being escorted to a holding cell. He intervened and they left and went back
to the house. He figured, and the old man agreed, that it would be best not to
tempt fate by going out. The next few days he stayed in coming out only to
rummage around the house for things to use. A trip to the convenience store for
milk wound up with him walking back into the garage finding the girl laying
down and groaning in a wet bed. It was not because she peed.
Da-ding…Da-ding…Da-ding…
Her contractions grew in intensity closer right away. It was
evident that the baby was coming at any time. She had a book on being pregnant
in her backpack which he used to help her deliver a little boy.
Da-ding…Da-ding…Da-ding…
The old man knocked on the door wondering why there was
screaming and hollering in the garage. He saw the baby and immediately wanted
to call someone (police, ambulance, etc.) and would have if his wife had not
walked in. she immediately took charge and got things cleaned up and arranged. She
sent her husband to get pillows, blankets, and, cloth diapers from storage in
their attic. Once settled in the old couple kneeled and prayed for them. They started
to talk about getting her someplace to care for her and her baby and suggested
a facility where she could find a suitable couple to adopt the baby. It was the
morally right thing to do.
Da-ding…Da-ding…Da-ding…
The girl looked at her rescuer and refused to move. This might
not be the best place but it felt safe. She was not going to give up her baby,
and that was that. The old couple, feeling the spirit of the season, did not
insist. They were going to their son’s house for the holiday and would come
talk to them when they got back. They left and came back a little while later
with more supplies for them and the baby.
Da-ding…Da-ding…Da-ding…
He was digging in the bags of supplies and found a bag of
cat food. He looked around to find about a half dozen stray cats sitting or lying
around the garage. They must have snuck in with all the opening and closing of
the door.
Da-ding…Da-ding…Da-ding…
Night came and it grew quite peaceful in the small car
refuge. The scene, if filmed, would have been prefect in any film about this
time of year. They heated up some food on a hotplate and toaster oven scavenged
from the dilapidated house. For dessert it was hot cocoa all around. He went
outside whenever she had to breastfeed, and a couple of the cats would
accompany him. It was right at midnight when, standing outside he recognized
that there seemed to be a lot of activity on the street. Several police cars
rode by shining the small spotlights on the door as if they were looking for
someone. He ducked back in the garage and decided that he best stay in for a
while.
Da-ding…Da-ding…Da-ding…
All of a sudden there was a huge bright light over the
garage. Through the window, air vents and numerous holes normally not
noticeable it seemed to be right over the building. It lit up the space
brighter than even a fluorescent lite would. All of a sudden, the door flew
open and three men came rushing in. one slammed the door and locked it. The
three then started to stack things in front of the door, and garage door to
stop anyone from getting in. they finished and turned to the current occupants.
Da-ding…Da-ding…Da-ding…
They were gangbangers. Each of them had tattoos on their
hands and necks. One of them took off his coat and it looked as if his whole
body might have been covered with what the bell ringer knew was “prison ink.” They
stared at each other for a long time. The smallest of them introduced him and
his friends as “Paco, Flaco, and Juan Diego.” They explained that they were
having some “judicial” issues with the po-po’s and needed to chill for a while.
The girl asked them if they wanted hot cocoa.
Da-ding…Da-ding…Da-ding…
The baby had been covered up during the introduction
suddenly began to cry. She uncovered him and he stopped crying, giving his
mother a big smile. The three hardened street criminals seem to melt all at the
same time. They gathered around the bed and oohed and aahed the child. They made
faces to make the infant smile. The smallest thug, Paco, asked if he could hold
him and the girl relinquished him after being reassured that tattooed hooligan
had seven younger brothers and sisters who he had cared for when they were
born. Flaco and Juan Diego summarily wished to embrace the child. Each was
quite careful and loving. They talked baby talk, albeit Spanish baby talk,
until the baby fussed at all the attention. They asked what his name was and were
shocked that he had none. Juan Diego declared that given the date, there was
only one name possible.
Da-ding…Da-ding…Da-ding…
The trio spent several hours visiting and peeking out the
window before they decided their “judicial” problem was no longer as urgent as
earlier. They each said goodbye to the newborn and wished the girl luck. They shook
hands around and proceeded to leave. Flaco stopped them and they had a
whispered conference before Paco pulled a piece of paper out of the pocket on
the large backpack they had brought with them. After writing on it for a while
they put it in the main part of the backpack and slipped out of the garage.
Never to be seen again by either of them.
Da-ding…Da-ding…Da-ding…
The next day the old couple came back and came over to the
garage. They had not been able to get the three of them out of their heads. They
were supposed to stay through the first of the year but came back early. The old
woman explained that they were pretty set in their ways and had been given a real
wakeup about the way they lived and thought. Things they accepted coming from a
pulpit in a large wealthy church were not in harmony with what life might
actually be. She apologized for herself and her husband’s behavior and invited
them to come share their home until things were better for them. No questions
asked or required behavior other than civility. The two evictees from a
homeless shelter looked at each other and accepted the offer.
Da-ding…Da-ding…Da-ding…
The two moved in and asked for separate bedrooms. Once settled
the girl asked if he would watch the baby while she took a long hot bath. He sat
in his room holding the baby until the older gent called and asked him to help
him move a crib into the girl’s room. Securing the baby on the bed with a wall
on one side and pillows too large for it to scale they moved the crib into the
room. The wife came in and made it up from the baby things she had in the
attic. Once bedded down, the child drifted off to sleep.
Da-ding…Da-ding…Da-ding…
Sitting and watching the child his eyes fell on the backpack
left by Paco, Flaco, and Juan Diego. He pulled it to him and opened it. He
found the note and a bag full of rolls of hundred dollar bills. The note explained
that the money was proceeds from the sale of items responsible for their “judicial”
issues. It had been laundered and was completely legal. The three were using it
to get out of town, but felt the baby could use it better them. Nobody was
looking for it. Not even the po-po’s.
Da-ding…Da-ding…Da-ding…
The old man came into the room and found his new housemate
confused. He looked at his benefactor and held the note up for him to read. Reading
the note slowly and looking into the bag, the old man stood there for quite a
while. Finally, looking as if he had made a decision, he handed the note back
and looked at the baby. The girl came back from her bath and was presented with
the information. Wondering what to do they looked to their benefactor. Not having
looked away from the baby, he said, “Well Emmanuel…it looks like it has turned
out to be a really good Christmas.”
Da-ding…Da-ding…Da-ding…
