Yesterday morning, around 5am, I came down to let the dog out and grab a cup of coffee before work and a young man was coming up from the basement. He had dark curly hair that straggled in his eyes and a scruffy beard and mustache.
"Oh, hi," he said. He sounded slightly sheepish. "Tone said I could come and dry out my shoes."
It had been raining on and off for days, and cold - just above freezing. It must have been miserable. He had jeans, a hoodie, one of those padded flannel jackets over that, and an outer coat over that. He still had his backpack on. He moved with that kind of relaxed oh-god-I'm-warm-now way that I've felt, too.
"Look," I said and flipped open the fridge, "there's some left over pot roast with gravy, and some mashed potatoes here. We've got plenty of cereal and milk, and there's bread and peanut butter and other stuff. Warm up and get something to eat, hey?" He nodded. "What's your name?"
He was getting out a bowl and spoon from the drying rack by the sink. "Nathan."
I moved past him to get a mug from the cupboard, poured myself some of yesterday's coffee and set it going in the microwave. "Ok, Nathan. I'm going to work now. There's little kids who live here, so be good, alright?"
He looked up from spooning a heap of mashed potatoes into his bowl. He met my eyes for only a second, but he was clear and focused, and I went off alert a bit. "Yes, ma'am," he said. "I'll be moving on before they get up."
I grabbed my coffee, added a plop of creamer, and took a quick sip, watching as he shoveled chunks of beef and gravy over the mashed potatoes. "Grab a sandwich and an apple for later, if you want," I said, and reached over and gave him a squeeze on the shoulder. He blinked at me.
I shrugged into my coat and went off to work. I'll ask Tone about him today.
"Oh, hi," he said. He sounded slightly sheepish. "Tone said I could come and dry out my shoes."
It had been raining on and off for days, and cold - just above freezing. It must have been miserable. He had jeans, a hoodie, one of those padded flannel jackets over that, and an outer coat over that. He still had his backpack on. He moved with that kind of relaxed oh-god-I'm-warm-now way that I've felt, too.
"Look," I said and flipped open the fridge, "there's some left over pot roast with gravy, and some mashed potatoes here. We've got plenty of cereal and milk, and there's bread and peanut butter and other stuff. Warm up and get something to eat, hey?" He nodded. "What's your name?"
He was getting out a bowl and spoon from the drying rack by the sink. "Nathan."
I moved past him to get a mug from the cupboard, poured myself some of yesterday's coffee and set it going in the microwave. "Ok, Nathan. I'm going to work now. There's little kids who live here, so be good, alright?"
He looked up from spooning a heap of mashed potatoes into his bowl. He met my eyes for only a second, but he was clear and focused, and I went off alert a bit. "Yes, ma'am," he said. "I'll be moving on before they get up."
I grabbed my coffee, added a plop of creamer, and took a quick sip, watching as he shoveled chunks of beef and gravy over the mashed potatoes. "Grab a sandwich and an apple for later, if you want," I said, and reached over and gave him a squeeze on the shoulder. He blinked at me.
I shrugged into my coat and went off to work. I'll ask Tone about him today.
(no subject)
Date: 2019-01-04 06:55 pm (UTC)