The Escape

It was too late, my bike was soaked and there was no way I would get it to run in this weather. I pushed the bike to the side of the rode and looked for a place to stay until the storm was over. Thankfully I knew the park really well it was just down the street from where my mother lived and where I grew up. I remembered walking to the park to watch my little brother play baseball or buy ice cream with my friends. I ran to a tree that was far enough away that the people living across the street wouldn’t see me, but not too far so I could still keep an eye on my bike and duffle bag.
The wind was picking up and I could hear thunder in the distance, I was thankful the tree was so large and had a few bushes around it so I felt a bit safer. I closed my eyes and thought about how when I was little I used to curl up in the biggest blanket I could find and eat Oreos and milk while watching each flash of lightening. Then my mom would come in and the whole family would sit by the basement stairs and play Monopoly. I always loved when we had a really good storm it was always so exciting frightening, but wrapped in my blanket sitting with my family made it entertaining and comfortable. Part of me wished I could just go home, walk up the street knock on the door. I wanted my Mother to open the door and hug me and tell me it was all going to be ok. I wanted to go back to the time when my life was simple back when my parents were married, and before everyone left. I wanted to go back to when my biggest problem was what I was going to dress my favorite doll in for the holidays.
Although I knew that would never happen. So much changed over the past 14 years, I went from a quiet little girl who loved to play outside with her dolls to a 22 year old woman who dropped out of college left her family and home to live on the streets. Roaming each night with no place to live and nothing to eat, my life completely changed and I would have never imagined I would have been living like that. In some ways I regretted leaving school, at least while I was there it was easier to ignore all the problems my family was having. But my family is the whole reason I left school, and what ended up happening? I became stuck. Unable to go anywhere, I was stuck in between my family and my own life. I sat hidden under the tree until the storm finally cleared. While I was sitting there I realized I had to find a place to stay. I knew if I really had to I could go stay with my Grandfather, but I really did not want him involved in my life. If I went to live with him it would be like admitting defeat and showing my mother I was wrong and she was right. I needed to go someplace completely unconnected to my family.
I walked back towards my bike and noticed that there was a hole in my sweatshirt. I must have ripped it on a branch or something when I got up. I got on my bike and rode to the gas station down the street. I went into the convince store to find some kind of food. I still had some cash from before I left school. Although I was quickly running low, I needed to find a place to stay and a way to get money. As I paid for a bag of M&Ms and a t shirt that had the gas station logo on it I caught my reflection in a nearby mirror. It was the first time I had seen what I looked like in almost two weeks. My hair was a tangled mess, my grey sweatshirt had stains covering it, my jeans were socked from the rain and riding my wet bike. When I looked at the cashier I saw that he was staring at me with confusion and fear. I knew I looked messy but I didn’t think I looked dangerous. He must have thought I was there to rob him or something. I realized that I really was homeless and had nowhere to go. I got back on my bike and rode into town. I didn’t know where I was going or how to find a place to stay but I figured going to the busy part of town would be a good place to start. I parked in front of the town ice cream shop. When I was little I used to love going there and getting chocolate chip mint ice cream and sit outside I on the bench with my brother and sister. As I looked at the shop I saw a sign nailed to a telephone poll nearby. The sign said “Local Shelter and Jobs Available”. It was perfect I just stumbled across exactly what I needed.
As I pulled up to the address on the flyer I thought I must have the address wrong, because this shelter place could not be the building that was in front of me. There was a large white mansion in front of me with a large porch and pillars that reminded me of the White House. The mansion was practically spotless, and nothing like what I was expecting. I walked up to the door and saw that it was left open. I slowly walked into a foyer area. From the spot I was standing in by the door I saw a long hall to my right and as I stepped farther into the foyer I saw what seemed like a kitchen in front of my, and through tall pillars and columns there was a fancy living room set to my right. I knew none of this was right. The place was huge there were long halls to my right with several rooms, it was obvious that several people lived there but there was no way that homeless people lived here. The place was decorated in expensive Victorian furniture. How could a homeless shelter afforded to be so well kept?
“Hello there! I am Wilton, Can I help you?”
“Oh uh.. Hi, I think I am in the wrong place. I saw this flyer and well yeah, never mind.”
I felt so stupid I was obviously in the wrong place and I had no idea where I was or who this man was. He was like a giant towering over me his dark skin dripping in sweat as he spun his basketball on his finger. He seemed really nice but he was so tall and I felt so uncomfortable standing in such a nice place dressed like such a slob. I turned and began to walk away. As I turned to walk back out to my bike three people walked through the door. A tall woman with short blonde hair, a young woman dressed in a blue mini dress with long thin black hair, and finally a man. He was tall and very board and muscular. He had short black hair and wore black jeans, a t shirt and a leather jacket. He completely fit the biker profile. It was not until the first women walked over to Wilton and the second girl went into the kitchen that I actually saw the man’s face. After a few seconds I realized why he had looked so familiar to me. He lived by me, he lived across the street from the house I grew up in. I had not seen him in years and even before he left I never saw him too often but I recognized his voice. As he realized who I was and how he knew who I was,
“Jessica? Is that you? GOD! That is you! WOW!”
“PIRATE!”
I could not help myself the moment I recognized him all the memories of me as a little girl running around my backyard with my brother and sister in the summer came rushing back. I remembered the game we used to play called Pirate, where whenever we heard the noise from his bike starting we would run and hide because we were afraid that the big tough pirate across the street would see us and come take us. It was a silly pointless game that we made up one summer night, even though we knew Peter was a nice person we thought that because he wore a bandanna and rode a motorcycle he was a bad guy. Eventually our mother told him and his father about our little game so he knew we called him Pirate and would run every time we heard him coming. I couldn’t help myself as I ran up to him and gave him a huge hug. I must have done it because of the memories I was having and the fact that I had been so alone and away from home for so long. I know that I looked like a little five year old running up to their big brother but I didn’t care for some reason I wanted to be close to him. I was surprised when he laughed and hugged me back,
“Ha Jessica you always gave the most amazing hugs. I can’t believe it is really you. It has been so long since I have seen you. When I left you were what like 8?”
“Yeah something like that! I did not recognize you until you said my name.”
“What are you doing here?”
“Oh, well I was looking for this place on a flyer I saw but I think I have the wrong address. I was just leaving.”
It was then that the first women with short blonde hair interrupted our conversation. She now held a glass of wine in her hand as we walked around the back of Wilton who was still standing watching Peter and I talk. She cleared her throat to get our attention and walked over to stand next to Peter.
“If you looking for the place on the flyer in your hand then your at the right place. This is the Shelter. I am Cynthia, I am the owner and the person who runs the shelter. Can I ask why you were trying to find us?”
She spoke with such authority I was afraid to answer her. She stood tall and thin in her black tube top and skinny jeans. She obviously thought she was better than everyone around her and certainly better than little old me. She sipped her wine as she waited for me to answer her.
“Oh I was looking for a place to stay. I have been trying to find work and a place to stay for a few days now and I saw your flyer at a gas station I thought maybe I could stay until I was able to get a job and enough money to find a more permanent place to stay.”
“Well I am sorry but we cannot help you. Unfortunately in order to stay here you must work here and for my company.”
“Oh well I could do that. I have a full High School education and completed a few years of college and I...”
“Listen I don’t care what you have done. My business is not something you would learn in school and it is something that takes a great amount of talent and skill.”
Cynthia really did not want me around and by the way she was talking it did not matter what I had to say this was no normal shelter and I was not welcome.
“Oh come on Cynthia, she has obviously been on her own for a while now and we have plenty of room. I am sure Carly wouldn’t mind sharing a room again now that Kathy left. Since Kathy and April left you have been hoping people would come to fill their spots and take over their clients.”
Wilton was standing behind me with one hand on my shoulder and the other held his basketball against his hip. I wasn’t sure why he was trying to help me, he had no idea who I was or anything about me but I was not about to say anything to mess up what he was doing for me. I desperately needed a place to stay there was no way I could make it another day sleeping under trees.
“Fine but I am not doing any favors she has to work like everyone else and since both Kathy and April left she will take both of their client lists.”
“Ah Yes! See Cynthia was that so hard?” Wilton smirked as Cynthia stalked off into the kitchen. Clearly unhappy with Wilton and me, I felt bad I did not want to make any problems but I had no choice.
“Well I guess she is not very friendly. Thank you for standing up for me like that, I really need a place to stay,”
“Oh don’t let her bother you, she can be a bit rough around the edges but she is a really great person once you get to know her. And hey any friend of Pete’s is a friend of mine. Since he wasn’t going to say anything to get you to stay I figured I might as well.”
Peter awkwardly shifted his weight and glanced to the floor. Once Cynthia came up and interrupted our conversation he became very quiet and stood in the background. It was as if he wasn’t even in the room anymore. When Wilton said his name and he changed positions was the first time he had done anything to make his presences known. Wilton took my hand and led me down the hall to the left of us.
“Here you go, Kathy used to share this room with Carly who is out with a client right now, but she won’t care if you make yourself comfortable. I am sure Cynthia will come and tell you everything you need to know about your clients.”
“Oh ok great, thank you Wilton really I am so thankful for your help. Um, why did Kathy and April leave?”
“Oh think nothing of it! Eh this is a shelter not a permanent place sometimes the people who live here find places they are happier or just find work and are able to get their lives back together. Cynthia doesn’t force people to stay here if they don’t want to be here. After her family got… well after she inherited the mansion she couldn’t afford to pay the bills. She had already spent years living on the streets and having the mansion was the first time she had a place to live and she was not about to give it up. She started letting a few friends she knew from the streets stay with her and they would, well do what they had to do to get money. It kept this place running and eventually the word spread among Cynthia’s old groups. Eventually they all left and started traveling but Cynthia kept the shelter open for anyone willing to work with her and help support the mansion.”