I made two bags (one butter, one plain), popped open three Pepsis, and put a couple of ham-and-cheese sandwiches on the tray, as well. (I didn’t remember seeing them at any of the tables during dinner.) I even found a can of dog food, which I put in a bowl for Lump, who seemed to have a higher opinion of me after I set it in front of him.

Everyone thanked me, then snuggled together under a blanket on the couch, watching Charlie Brown and munching away.

“Ahem?”

I turned to see the Reverend standing right behind me. He looked at Beth and her children, then at Lump, then at me, raising his left eyebrow like that actor who used to play Mr. Spock on Star Trek.

“I know, I know,” I said, moving past him toward the rear doors. “What was I supposed to do, ignore them?”

He fell into step beside me. “No, you were supposed to do exactly what you did. It just seemed to me that you were basking in the moment a little too long…you knight in shining overalls, you.”

“They weren’t here for dinner, were they?”

“They were, but they were sleeping and I wasn’t about to wake them. You did good, Sam.”

“Your praise is everything to me.”

The Reverend grinned. “Could you maybe be a little less sincere?”

“I could give it a whirl, but it costs extra.” We smiled at each other, then the Reverend moved toward the kitchen to stock up on hot coffee and sandwiches while I made my way out back to get the van started for Popsicle Patrol.

As I was closing the door behind me, I took one last look inside; Timmy was sitting down in one of the chairs in the lounge, Lump’s face seemed permanently fused to the bowl, Beth and her kids were munching happily away (on both the popcorn and the sandwiches, which they shared with Timmy), and the other guests were either settling into their cots, playing cards, or chatting quietly. Sheriff Jackson was sitting at Ethel’s table, reading a paperback novel. Everything was quiet, warm, pleasant enough, and safe. It made me feel good, knowing that I’d helped make this a good, clean, decent place for folks who weren’t as fortunate as me. I wanted to freeze this moment in my mind so I could take it out again sometime and look at it when I was feeling blue.

They were all fine; they were all safe.

I try very hard to remember that now; how safe it all seemed.

3

It wasn’t just the freezing rain that kept my mood more on the downside that night; I’d felt like something was…off all day. Ever since I’d arrived at the shelter—well before four that afternoon—it seemed like the whole world was moving at a slow, liquid crawl. People looked out their windows at the dark skies as if they sensed there might be something looking back down at them but taking care to keep itself hidden from their gazes.