During intake, they said the church keeps its doors open to anyone who follows the rules as long as they need but I get the feeling that only goes so far. They really push the job placement program, which isn’t exactly a bad thing, but I’m sure it doesn’t work for everyone, and not right away.
I follow his gestures as Father Guy goes over the rules and expectations, things like no drugs or weapons, noinappropriate fraternizationwith other people staying here. He explains that all of the staff are volunteers, what their various roles are, and each of the shift times that really don’t mean anything to me.
I’m not looking to make friends, or get to know anyone while I’m here.
This is temporary.
Extremely temporary if I have any control over it.
When I left Illinois, I didn’t really have a destination in mind. I loaded up Gran’s ancient boat of a Cadillac with my very meager belongings, said goodbye to the woman herself as I dug up my life savings—$3,593.76 to be exact—then took off like a bat out of hell, and just as angry.
I should have more than that.
I was still giving lessons at Jerome’s right up until the day I split, and I’d been working nights washing dishes at a local all night diner for the last four years. Neither paid much, but I’d been saving every cent I could for what felt like such a long time, and when I counted what I’d hidden with Gran, I got pissed.
It didn’t take a brain surgeon to know Mandy was stealing from me whenever she could, always before I had a chance to bury my money, but I didn’t realize just how much she’d managed to lift.
My savings should be at least double that based on my math.
I never splurged. Every dollar I was forced to spend was purely for survival’s sake. I wore my shoes and clothes until they fell apart then bought what I needed from thrift stores. Duct tape and super glue held my glasses together until I had no choice but to get new ones. I got all of my food fromDollar Dave’sin order to keep my grocery bill at minimum. Which means I’m way too skinny and the only reason I’m not emaciated is because of Jerome and his pack making sure I had at least one home cooked meal a day, or the fry cooks at the diner tossing wrong orders or forgotten takeout at me when they could.
I hate handouts, hate having people pity me or whatever, but I’m not stupid enough to be ungrateful for the miniscule number of kind souls I’ve been fortunate to come across.
Growing up the way I did, it made me into a weird combination of bitter and jaded while still trying to recognize what Gran calledblessingsormiracleswhen they happened.
The day I left Galena was miraculous on its own.
I almost couldn’t leave.
I only had two lessons at Jerome’s, right after the kids got out of school so I finished early enough to pick up one last shift at the diner. I clocked in around seven and started working my ass off, got completely in the zone and hustled through the 2AM rush then everything came to a screeching halt.
Mandy showed up.
Honestly, she didn’t just show up, she came crashing through the kitchen doors like the drunk she is.
I don’t know how she got past the girls behind the counter, or anyone else out front for that matter, but she did, and then Mandy made a beeline right for me.
“Octy, my sweet boy,” she slurred as she grabbed my arm. “I need a favor.”
I rolled my eyes and kept washing the pot in my hands. “Ask your pimp.”
Mandy stepped closer as she hissed, “I should slap you for that. I’m still your mother, and you should treat me–”
“Like the drunk, leather faced, drug addicted tweaker, gutter whore you are?”
Her nails bit into my arm, digging deeper with each word as she clenched her teeth.
“Or should I treat you like the absolutely broken piece of shit woman you are? The one who got knocked up with a bastard son by one of the thousands of johns you serviced almost two decades ago then decided to abuse and sell him until he was big enough to fight you off?” I glanced at her over my shoulder, her eyes narrowed on my face before they started to dart aroundthe room. “Clarify for me, Mandy. I’m not sure how to treat you anymore. Direction would be helpful.”
“You ungrateful son of a bitch.”
“Exactly.”
She let go of my arm, her hand lifted and ready to connect with my cheek but before she had the chance to make good on her threat, I quickly turned to face her and flinched in her direction, causing her to jump and recoil.
I chuckled morbidly as I pushed my glasses up my nose. “You’re pathetic.”
Mandy sniffled, forfeiting her tough guy act for thepoor meone, and attempted to lay on the guilt. “Octy… Octavian, please. I need your help.”