Page 7 of Sir Avery's Wish
Inside, the fluorescent lights cast a harsh glow over a reception area where a middle-aged woman with salt-and-pepper hair sat behind a desk. She looked up as he entered and gave him a warm smile.
“Hello. Are you here for dinner?” She gestured to a large room to her left. “Go on in and get in the food line. They’ve just started serving.”
“Thanks.” Eli shoved his hands in his pockets. “Umm, I was wondering. Do you have any beds open tonight?”
Her features fell, and he had his answer before she spoke. “I’m sorry, hon. We’re booked for tonight, but keep trying. Sometimes people don’t show up.”
Eli laughed shakily. “Like standing by for a flight.”
Her brow furrowed slightly. “Well…something like that, I suppose.”
Was he being offensive? “Sorry. This is…” He almost said ‘first time’, but that didn’t seem like an appropriate remark, either.
Her expression softened. “It’s okay, hon. I can see you’re tired. Why don’t you get something to eat? The sooner you go inside, the better.”
She didn’t need to explain. While he was standing there, worried about saying the wrong thing, they might be running out of food in the other room.
After thanking her again, he made his way into the dining area. Once he crossed the threshold, the space opened up into a large room with long tables packed with people. The noise hit him first. Dozens of voices overlapped, silverware clinked against plates, and chairs scraped against the linoleum floor. The smell of hot food made his mouth water and stomach grumble.
Eli hesitated at the edge of the room, scanning the space. A line of people snaked from a serving counter where volunteers in hairnets and plastic gloves dished out what looked like a stew of some sort and bread rolls.
He joined the line, keeping his head down, shoulders hunched. The line moved efficiently, and when he finally reached the front, a cheerful guy with spiky blond hair and an infectious grin handed him a tray.
“Hey there! Welcome to our five-star establishment,” the server joked, ladling a generous portion of stew onto Eli’s plate. “I’m Ryan. First time here?”
Eli nodded, his eyes fixed on the steaming food, ashamed. His embarrassment had nothing to do with being in the same position as all the others in the line were. It was that he’d never truly understood what it must be like not to have a home or enough to eat.
“Are you all right?” Ryan’s voice had softened.
“I’m…” Nah. He wasn’t fine. However, holding up the food line didn’t seem like a good way to feel better. “Sorry.”
He directed his apology to the frowning older man next to him who was staring him down. Ryan cleared his throat, holding up a roll embraced by tongs. His smile reached his eyes, and Eli wished he’d met him under different circumstances. Being so far from home without Lenny around sucked. Not having any friends was as bad as not having anywhere to stay.
“Thanks,” he mumbled to Ryan, then quickly moved along, only stopping to add an apple and a bottle of water to his tray.
Once he found a spot at a half-empty table on the other side of the room, he grabbed a chair and dug in. He kept his gaze fixed on his plate, only glancing up on occasion, so he could remain aware of his surroundings. Even though he’d become an expert at being alert, the gritty truth was that he’d need to get next-level if he was going to be on the streets.
Eli forced himself not to scrape his spoon across the plate to get every last drop of stew and set the utensil down. He cracked open the bottle, drinking half the water before also making himself stop so he’d have some later if he needed it. His stomach still growled, and the apple stared back at him as if daring him to take a bite.
He reached for the apple, pausing, his hand hovering over the piece of fruit. Maybe he should save it for later, too. It was unlikely the shelter would be dishing out food three times a day. This could be his breakfast.
“There are some apples left over if you want another one.” Eli jerked up his head, Ryan’s voice startling him. Ryan smiled. “Sorry. I know I’m loud. I wanted to catch you before you took off. We’re getting a truckload of more donated fruit tomorrow. It’s cool that the markets send it over, but a lot of it is on its last legs.” He shrugged. “So I try to get people to take as much of what we already have when there’s more on the way.” Hewrinkled up his nose. “It’s not like a package of rice, you know? It has to be eaten right away.” Ryan furrowed his brow. “I’m talking too much, aren’t I?”
Eli shook his head, clearing his throat. “N-no. I appreciate you letting me know. I’ll definitely grab one for later.”
Ryan narrowed his eyes, scraping his teeth over his bottom lip. Eli swallowed hard. Had he said something wrong? Man, he’d never questioned himself so much since he’d been on the run. He used to be pretty social, liked meeting new people, hanging out, and having fun. Now he didn’t trust a single person. Everyone seemed like a potential threat.
“Hey,” Ryan said. “I know this is legit none of my business, but you seriously stand out here, so it makes me wonder.”
Eli froze. “W-what do you mean?”
Ryan dropped onto a chair across from him. “No, you’ve got me wrong. I’m only saying you don’t seem very street savvy, and you know…” He shrugged again. “I’ve been doing this for a while, and I can usually tell when someone is new to the streets versus someone who's been around.” Ryan leaned forward slightly. “You still have that look. You know, like you're waiting for someone to come pick you up.”
Eli’s throat tightened. The observation hit too close to home, that fantasy he kept having where his old life would somehow magically reappear. “I’m just... between places right now.”
“Uh-huh.” Ryan's expression remained kind, but Eli caught the skepticism there. “Hey, I’m not trying to pry or anything. Your business is your own, as Frodo would say. It’s just that winter’s coming, and it’s brutal here if you don’t know what you’re doing. People die out there.”
The blunt statement sent a chill through Eli that had nothing to do with the temperature. He'd been so focused on staying hidden from potential killers that he'd almost forgottenabout more immediate dangers. Exposure. Hypothermia. Being assaulted. The simple, harsh mathematics of surviving on the streets.
