We were coming up to the encampment, so I began looking for a place to park. “Got anything?”
“More than we have time for. He was in the special Army Ops when he was enlisted, and received several commendations before he lost it and was discharged,” Orik said.
“He was discharged? I didn’t know if he’d gotten out of the Army before he broke down.”
Orik was silent for a moment as I parked.
I turned off the engine and glanced at him. “Well, anything else?”
“Yeah, he spent two years in an institute for the criminally insane when he tried to murder his old sergeant. He blamed him for his brother’s death, according to the story,” Orik said.
“I thought he blamed himself?”
Dante spoke up. “Ten to one, he projected that blame onto his sergeant to alleviate his own guilt—”
“I suppose,” I said, glancing around as the rain began.
The encampment was heartbreaking.
Tents spread out on the pavement and gravel across the empty lot. Everywhere, awnings made from tarps and yard waste bags provided makeshift protection from the rain. The smell was like unwashed laundry that had been sitting out for several weeks. On one end, someone had either rented or stolen a couple portable toilets.
But the hardest thing was the sound of children crying…and some playing…in the lot full of temporary shelters. Children who should be living in an apartment or a house, children who should be in school or playing in a park. Families who should be offered a hand up, who needed jobs and healthcare, all just trying to eke out survival.
Counting my blessings, and wishing I could help, I looked around. From first sight, I saw several older men who could be Kelvin, but at closer look, they weren’t.
“We should ask someone,” Dante said. It was then that I realized he was dressed sedately—foregoing his usual flamboyance for an inconspicuous leather jacket and jeans. It warmed my heart that he wasn’t going to flaunt himself around people who were struggling to find a morsel of food.
“There,” I said, pointing to an older lady who was sitting in a folding yard chair beneath one of the tarp awnings. “Let’s ask her.”
As we headed toward her, I noticed Dante was folding up a twenty. When we reached her side, he walked over and knelt so she wouldn’t have to stand.
“Ma’am, we’re wondering if you can tell us whether you know someone supposed to be living in this encampment?” he asked.
“That depends,” she said, her gaze running over us. “You the cops?”
“No, ma’am,” Dante said. He held out a picture of Kelvin on his phone. “We’re looking for Kelvin, a wolf shifter. We were told he might be here.”
She squinted at the phone, then slowly nodded. “I know him. He’s over there, toward that green tent.” She coughed, adjusting the scarf around her neck.
“Thank you,” Dante said, quietly handing her the twenty.
She looked at it, then shook her head. “That blond over there with three kids? She needs this more than I do.”
As I looked at her ragged shoes and the too-thin coat, I quietly pulled out another twenty and, as Dante walked over to hand the young mother the money, I reached down and tucked my money into the older lady’s hand.
“You’re a good person,” I said. “You deserve this.” I wanted to add something like ‘take care’ or ‘be careful’ but it sounded lame.
As though she understood, she touched my hand. “Life has a way of doing as it will,” she said. “I hope you find what you’re looking for. I can sense you’re searching for something.”
“Thank you,” I said. Feeling like I’d just talked to Sophia when she was into her visions, I nodded and then, with Orik and Dante by my side, headed over to the green tent.
Can’t wait for the book to come out.
Be well.
Happy Holidays.