PLEASE HELP! NO JOB! NO FOOD!

William looked toward Orelia, then back across the street. Was she staring at this man or the building behind him?

A woman walking by, with a little fellow of around five in tow, paused before the vagrant and handed her son coins. The boy spoke to the man before placing the money into the container. He nodded and smiled and waved as the pair continued on their way.

When William’s focus returned to Orelia, she was already halfway across the road. He stepped back, moving closer to the large sandstone building in case she turned around. Many people moved between them, which would help conceal his presence, but he didn’t need her to notice him through a lapse of concentration and carelessness.

Orelia continued along the pavement after crossing the road, and ended up exactly where the woman and her son had stood only moments before. She fumbled in her wallet and withdrew multiple notes; he was too far away to see the denominations.

Then she squatted down, staying there for a few minutes in what appeared to be a conversation with the man. William couldn’t figure out if she knew him or if he was just a random person on whom she’d decided to bestow charity.

Before arising, she placed the money in the container. As she did, his face lit up and William presumed it must have been a sizable amount. Another grand gesture by the amazing Orelia Mason. Helping the homeless. Where were the cameras to capture such an altruistic act?

Don’t judge yet, he told himself. This was certainly peculiar behavior to travel this far, seemingly on a Mother Teresa mission. Then again nothing made sense with Orelia. He needed to keep watching, be patient, and hope for a breakthrough.

If he believed in God, he would have prayed the revelation came soon. Rising at dawn to camp outside her house all day had worn him down already. How many days he could keep this up, he didn’t know. Headaches had become his constant companion, and he lived on painkillers that did little, except upset his stomach.

William expected Orelia to now move away from the man, like the woman and her child had done after their donation. Orelia though stood above the man as if waiting for something, before she reached inside her bag again. He wondered if she was about to give him a copy of an Orelia Mason novel? That would be a great joke.

And she did pull out a book, but the green hardcover looked too small for a novel, or at least a standard fiction. The man stared up at her as she flipped through the pages. She stopped, seemed to be looking for a specific place, then nodded as if she’d found it. Reaching in her bag again, she pulled out a spiral notepad, in which she wrote before tearing out a page. Then she bent to the container and deposited the slip of paper on top of her money.