Day Sixty-Four

    ****NAMES CHANGED TO PROTECT PORTLAND'S STREET KIDS*****

I don't think I even have to tell you that I feel pretty shitty when I wake up in the  morning. I stagger to breakfast then the library. There's no day program today since it's Friday just meals but at 1pm I ask #1 if I can lay down somewhere. Mother Goose has Fridays off so it's the next lady in charge and she says to wait and they'll find something. I lay on the bench outside the day program and some lady who doesn't know I have permission to lay down asks what I'm doing. When I explain my night before and the way the hospital made us walk to shelter she says, "That's the best excuse  I've heard in a long time. You can lay here."

Boss Lady comes back and tells me I can sleep in my case manager's office. I go back and sleep until dinner. It's a much needed four hour nap. I get up only because I hear Kitten Lady. I help her gather her things and we head out with Houdini to kill time until shelter opens.

We sit by McDonald's doing absolutely nothing wrong besides eating an ice cream cone I paid for. A police officer comes up and asks to run our names through the system. KL gives him a fake name and I mumble my last name so he doesn't catch it quite right. I hate this. I hate being stopped for no reason. Especially when we're honestly not being naughty.

He walks off to run our names through the system and we jet out of there. We hide behind a car in hopes we aren't caught with identity theft or searched. I have a pipe and pop on me so I'm not exactly good on being searched either. We hide behind a black ca in the parking lot behind McDonald's until we are interrupted by the owner of the car coming to drive herself home from work at the porn shop.

We apologize and explain we weren't doing anything to her car, we were just looking for a shaded place to sit. If I had been her I would have been freaked out but she hands us some left overs from her lunch, a bag of Doritos, and $10. I swear every time something cruel happens like being stopped by the police something wonderful happens to balance it out. To me $10 is $100 now. We buy some things of hair dye for tomorrow and some coloring books because we miss coloring.

Before it's time to go upstairs I buzz up and ask if I can run up and grab a blanket for KL. They won't let me and this turns in to one of my famous through-the-buzzer screaming matches. One of the boys who stays in the upper part of shelter (where you have more privileges and your own room) comes downstairs. He's a little black boy who keeps to himself. We know each other's names but nothing else.

"Calm down," he says, "When it's time for you to go upstairs bring what you need to give her to me. I will take it down for her. I'm allowed to."
I thank him and walk away.

When I go upstairs I ask staff to open my locker. They tell me I need to pick out a chore. I refuse, "You made me walk to the hospital and now you want me to fold your laundry? Hell no."

This again becomes an argument. I hate it when Bitch Lady works. She threatens to give me a BLA even though I haven't even raised my voice.

"Do it," I say, "That worked out really well for you last time."

The boy comes back. He grabs my elbow and pulls me away. "Stop, before you lose your reservation," he tells me, "Is this what you need me to take downstairs?"
"Yes."
"Alright. You sit here until I come back and stop arguing."

He's so assertive I obey and sit in the arm chair outside shelter while I wait for him to deliver the blankets. He sits down across from me and asks why I'm so high strung. I tell him about having to walk to the hospital and having my laptop charger and cell phone stolen. I explain my frustrations with this lifestyle and how I'm not cut out for it.

"No one is cut out for this," he says.

He and I talk until we're laughing instead of crying. He is a Seventh Day Adventist. I ask him if he believes in dinosaurs and he tells me that dinosaurs are hybrids made in the early days of mankind. Tomorrow is Saturday, his Sabbath. He looks forward to it as he lays by water front all day. The rest of the week he works from 4am to 3:30pm. He says he has an extra laptop charger that doesn't fit his computer. We try it and it fits. This makes me so happy I want to cry. Finally, I head to bed.

I am very thankful for my new Seventh Day Adventist friend. I probably would have lost my reservation that night because I was about ready to tear Bitch Lady a new asshole. Also, getting my laptop back really helps me keep a sense of normality. It helps me update this blog which helps me keep everyone informed of what is going on and helps me not to lose my mind completely.

From here on out he will be referred to as Vince. Sometimes it surprises me that the kindest people I encounter are the ones that are the most stigmatized. This time it's a black street kid who follows a religion that's seen as odd even outside of the most atheist city in America.

--mm