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I don’t care, then. I’ll find a place that’s wind-free and relatively warm so I can close my eyes for a few moments, just enough to get my bearings. But what I wouldn’t give for a bed right about now.
The old me would’ve offered a prayer, asking for assistance and aid, but…I can’t do that now. Not when I know whoever’s up there is angry with me for leaving the fellowship and likely hates me for turning my back on my family.
No, I’m well and truly alone. And as liberating as that sounds, it’s the loneliest place I’ve ever been.
A door opens, and I’m hit with the warm, delicious, comforting fragrance of freshly baked bread. I’d know the smell anywhere.
My mouth waters. My belly aches. The warm air caresses my skin, and I feel myself walking closer to where it originates.
Two men stand in a doorway, talking in hushed voices. I hide in the shadows so they don’t see me.
These men looknothinglike the men I grew up with. Tall and handsome, dressed in slacks and button-down shirts, they look like they could be brothers with their matching black hair and scruffy beards. They’re big and strong, I can tell even from here. Most of the men in the fellowship are light-skinned and fair, clean-shaven and… delicate. These men arenot.
They turn toward me, so close now that I’m afraid they might see me.
I flatten myself against the wall and watch. I’m used to becoming invisible.
I could ask them for some of their bread, but that could arouse suspicion. Maybe they’d want to know who I am or where I’m from.
No. I shake my head, even though no one can see me. These men look scary.Friendly enough with each other but scary, nonetheless.
I have to find another way.
I turn and walk away, my belly aching, when I hear one of them speak to the other.
“You here for the day?”
“Yeah, promised Sergio I’d leave the bread for tonight and I’d look over the bedrooms before we open for overnight guests.”
“Didn’t open for overnighters yet?”
“No, not on opening day.”
“Okay, sounds good. I gotta head to the wharf.”
I gasp and flatten myself to nearly nothing against the wall when one of them walks in my direction. His footsteps echo, drawing nearer. Oh myGod.What will he do if he sees me here?
Just when I think he’s going to notice me, I watch him pause, unlock, then slide into a beautiful, fancy red car. As soon as he turns the key in the ignition, music blares into the quiet morning, he slams the door shut, and he’s off.
It feels like divine intervention.
No one else is here except the one guy in charge of the bread. He’s looking overbedroomsthat will be unoccupied.
Could I find shelter without him knowing?
I can. Of course I can.
I remember Quinn’s admonition.
There are many things people can take that don’t involve money.
At the top of the list of people I don’t trust would be big, scary, domineering men.
I trust genteel men even less.
Okay, so it’s fair to say I don’t trust men.
I trust myself though. I have to.
