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“Yeah.” I blow out a breath, reading between the lines and knowing exactly what she means.
When I was in high school, if I wasn’t being picked on for being a nerd or a loser, then it was because I had two dads. I let them push me and push me right to the edge until one day, I hit back. I went for the biggest and baddest one, knowing that if I took him down, the others wouldn’t bother me anymore.
It worked, they didn’t say a single word to me again, but by that stage, the damage had already been done and I was wary of every single one of them. It’s not like I had any friends to talk to, to hang around with—not like before high school.
That’s how I built my profile up in the cyber and gaming world, becoming somebody through the screen of a computer. The anonymity that the screen gives you allowed me to build my confidence back up.
“It should be fine, as long as you have her parents’ consent.”
“Of course.” She smiles and then turns around, heading out of the door with the two other women she comes to this class with.
I never ask their stories because to me it doesn’t matter as long as they want to learn how to defend themselves. That’s what I’m here for, to teach them how to defend themselves if they ever find themselves in a situation they feel uncomfortable in… or worse.
Most of these women have already lived through domestic abuse or have even been attacked. But people tend to be reactive instead of proactive and I’m determined to help people be proactive, and Haley’s niece is as good a place as any to start.
I continue to pack all of the stuff away, putting them back on the shelves in the equipment room that sits next to the main room of the community center.
The center isn’t big, only housing three main rooms, one downstairs and two upstairs, all of which are in constant use from seven in the morning. In the summer months, they have fairs and fun days, trying to raise money to keep the place open and provide kids with somewhere stable to come to a couple of times a week after school and during school breaks.
I close the door and walk back into the room I was using, grabbing my bag off the floor and switching the lights off as I exit and closing the door behind me.
“Can I have a word?” Roy asks from behind me as I’m about to walk out of the main doors.
I turn to face him, taking note of the bald patch in the middle of his head, surrounded by wisps of gray hair and his dull brown eyes. He must be nearly eighty by now, but the old man is still going strong and determined to keep this community center open for as long as he can.
He’s a jack of all trades. He balances the books, hosts events, fixes anything that is broken, keeps the grounds in good condition, and also cleans. He’s here from the time the doors open until they close.
“Sure.” I shrug, following him into his office that sits behind the reception desk.
He walks around the various boxes that line his floor and to his old wooden desk that’s scattered with folders and paperwork.
“I wanted to let you know that I’m cutting my hours down.”
“’Bout damn time.” I chuckle.
He laughs with me for a minute until he sobers. “You know we aren’t exactly flush for money…”
“Uh huh.”
“Well… I can’t afford a normal wage, not with the way things are right now so I put an ad in with a program.” He pauses, his eyes flitting over my face before finally landing back on mine. “I still pay them, but not what I would if they were employed normally. It’s like a ‘back to the workplace’ kind of thing.”
I frown at him, not quite understanding why he’s telling me this. “I don’t get what you’re saying, Roy.” I lean against the doorframe, folding my arms across my chest.
“I know what you do with MAC… I know you put the bad guys away.” I stay silent, waiting for what he has to say. “The person I’ve employed has just come out of prison. They’ll be helping me with closing at the end of the night, cleaning the place… that kind of thing.”
“Hold on.” I lift my hand in the air, palm forward as I stand up straight, taking a step toward him. “You’re employing a criminal?” Silence. “You know some of the people who come here come for sanctuary, to get away from whatever shit is going on at home.”
“I know,” he says, swiping his hand down his face. “But it’s the only thing I can afford. I just wanted to see if you can keep an eye on them?”
“You should’ve said something to me, I would’ve helped out more.”
“You have so much going on already.” He shrugs. “It’s a done deal.”
I drop my shoulders, blowing out a breath and looking out of the window at the darkened sky. I know that he’s getting on in age; he can’t keep being here for fourteen hours a day, he needs the help, but I can’t help thinking that this could be bad if people knew, if people found out that the new employee is a criminal.
It could ruin the reputation of the center; people would start to question if they’re safe here.
“Who else have you told?” I finally ask, bringing my eyes back to him.
