Page 3 of Refuge for Flora

“This is, uh, the, um, BluegrassApartments, right?” she asked, trying to come up with a fake name that sounded real.

“No. This is the IrvinCobb Apartments. I don’t know where the Bluegrass Apartments are.”

“Oh. Dang. I’m in the wrong place. Okay, sorry. I’ll just call her and see if I can figure out where I’m supposed to be. Thank you.” She could feel his eyes on her as she picked up her bag and shuffled out the front door, not knowing where to go first. Then she spotted it.

There was a sign a block farther out with the insignia of the Methodist Church on it, and she headed that direction. She tried the massive front doors, but they were locked, so she walked around to the back of the building. Sure enough, there were a few cars sitting there, and the door under theporte cochèrewas open. The aroma of some kind of food hit her nose and made her stomach growl. Not more than twenty-five feet inside the building a woman wearing plaid pants and a huge smile stopped her. “Are you here for lunch?”

“Uh, I don’t?”

“There’s plenty! Wouldn’t you like to have something to eat?”

“Um, well, Iamhungry. Do I have to join the church to get it?”

The woman looked at her like she was crazy. “No. We just do a meal every Wednesday for anyone in the community who needs it. That’s all. Come with me.”

It occurred to her that it might be some kind of trick, but the hallway opened into a large cafeteria-style room with dozens of tables, and at least ten people sat around, eating from plates full of food and bread on trays. “Okay, come on back here and Mrs.Randolph will fix you up.” It looked for all the world like a cafeteria line at a school.

“Here we go, honey.” A tray was handed to her, and it was already loaded up with food. “I’m Mrs.Randolph, but you can call me Cassie. And what would you like to drink? We’ve got all kinds of things back here.”

“Could I have just a plain soda?”

“Of course! Here you go!” The can was placed in the corner of her tray, and the woman added a bundle of flatware to it. “I hope you enjoy it, and God bless you.”

“Uh, God bless you too,” she said as she turned, tray in hand. There was a table near the wall with no one sitting at it, and she decided that might be the best place. It had been a few days since she’d had a shower, and she didn’t want to put anyone off their food.

It might’ve just been a little bowl of stew and some kind of spaghetti with sauce, but it tasted pretty good to her, and she tried hard not to gobble as she ate. The bread was good too, a roll that was sort of sweet, and she wished she had an extra one. Matter of fact, she wished she could go back for seconds. “Is it good?” a male voice asked, and she turned to see who it was.

A man stood there, probably in his late fifties, in a pair of tan slacks and a polo shirt. Men rattled her most of the time, but he was very unintimidating, and he had a kind face. “Yes. It’s very good. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome! Mind if I sit?” She shook her head, so he took a seat across the table from her and folded his hands on the surface. “So I’m ReverendSimmons, but you can call me Ray.”

“So you’re the preacher here?”

“Not exactly. I’m one of them. I’m the minister of education and outreach.”

“Oh.”That’s right. I’m outreach, she told herself, then remembered her manners. “Nice to meet you.”

“And you as well. Do you mind me asking your name?”

For a moment, the idea of lying and giving him a fake name sounded good, but the man had a sweet smile and she felt safe sitting there with him. “Flora. FloraStevens.”Did I just screw up royally?she asked herself, but it was out there and there was no way to take it back.

“Well, Flora, it’s nice to meet you. So is there anything I can do for you today?”

Well, okay, he asked.“Not unless you can take me somewhere so I can get a phone to job hunt. I have the money. I just don’t have a way to get there.”

“We can make that happen. Are you just passing through?”

“Depends.” His eyebrows shot up. “On whether or not I can find a job.”

“Gotcha. I think we can fix you up.”

Something about the man sitting across from her made her hopeful. He seemed genuine and trustworthy. “You should know, I’m running from something. Maybe I should say someone. And it’s not the law, if that’s what you’re thinking. I was… even scared to tell you my name.”

“Don’t be. Now that I know what’s going on, I can get you some assistance. I’ll be right back.” He stood and she felt her heart drop into her knees until he said, “Please don’t run off. I’m not getting anyone who’ll do anything to you. I’m just going to call an agency here in town that can probably help you. Okay?”

She just nodded and watched him walk away. In front of her sat her empty melamine, divided plate, and she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to do with it when a woman strolled past, stopped, backed up, and said, “Can I take that for you?”

“Oh! Sure. Thanks. I didn’t know where it went.”

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