“Welcome, Frank,” Sadie said, and used her hand to direct me toward the cafeteria line. A small gap in the line was created when she greeted me and I think she was intent on seeing it closed. Something about her manner made me hustle to fill the gap. “You owe me five days, Houser,” Sadie called as we moved toward the chili.
“Five days?” I asked Houser for clarification.
“Yeah, I gots to work the line,” Houser said, nodding to the buffet line, “if you eat a lot, you owes days to Sadie.” He smiled as he picked up a tray off the stack. “It ain’t bad work, it’s just she makes you clean up, you know, before you touch the food and stuff.” Houser obviously cherished his grime. He wasn’t quite as free as he claimed.
“Cheese?” the large chili lady asked.
“Sure,” I answered and she dropped a tong full of shredded cheddar on top of my plastic bowl of chili. She made an effort to smile as she handed me the bowl. I found myself smiling back and saying ‘thank you.’ I moved to the next station, and a tall gangly guy with the same apron and scarf handed me a small bowl of fresh broccoli and carrots in some kind of oily sauce. He also smiled and warranted a ‘thank you.’ The whole process was extremely civil and the service was pleasant. I looked back at Sadie as she greeted everyone entering. You have to admire someone who can organize the unorganized.
“Brownies!” Houser said excitedly. I saw his eyes light up and he exposed all his bad teeth. An older woman was serving them at the end of the line. Same apron, same scarf and the same smile. With our trays loaded, Houser and I found a seat at one of the tables.
“Does Sadie run this all by herself?” I asked as we began to dig in.
“Yep, it’s her kitchen,” Houser answered with a mouth full of chili. I saw him eying my brownie. He wasn’t trying to be overly obvious, but he wasn’t hiding it either. I smiled and moved my brownie to his tray.
“I owe you,” I said. Houser nodded his head as he stuffed another spoonful of chili into his mouth. I had a feeling I wouldn’t be getting dessert for a while. It didn’t really bother me, anyone who could help me forget was worth his weight in dessert.
We ate in the relatively quiet atmosphere of the cafeteria. There was talking, but it was all subdued and very cordial. Not what I expected at all. Houser informed me Sadie wouldn’t allow raucous behavior in her cafeteria. I looked back at Sadie and wondered how she could possibly stop a ruckus if it started. Everyone just seemed to accept her iron rule here.
I was watching Houser enjoy his brownies at the end of the meal. Enjoying was an understatement. He was in ecstasy. He savored every bite, and his eyes glossed over. His joys were simple and this was one of his favorites.
“So, what are you doing here, Frank?” Sadie had sat down next to us without me noticing. I jumped a bit in surprise. I figured I would stick with the lie I started with.
“Financial problems,” I answered. I wondered if I smelled as bad as Houser. If so, Sadie didn’t seem to mind. She just looked at my face as if trying to figure out something. Her dark eyes seemed to penetrate past my lie and I sensed she didn’t believe me.
“You’re not buying Houser’s freedom of the streets crap are you?” Sadie smiled sweetly at Houser as she said it. Houser was still lost in his second brownie and seemed oblivious to the teasing insult. For some reason I didn’t feel like lying to her again. There was something about how she presented herself that just made it feel wrong.
“Right now, yes,” I answered honestly, “it’s kind of refreshing.” Houser was nodding as he relished another mouthful of the brownie. He was more aware of the conversation than I gave him credit for. Sadie rolled her eyes and gave me an expression just short of disgust. I suddenly wanted to take my answer back and try again.
“You owe Houser?” Sadie asked, nodding toward the brownie monster.
“Yes,” I answered quizzically.
“Then you take his five days,” Sadie said as she rose, “I’ll see if I can change your mind. Be here tomorrow morning at nine; don’t be late.” Sadie headed off before I could respond. I was shocked by the authority she just assumed she had. Houser smiled with a mouth full of brownie.
“We’re even,” Houser said, obviously pleased with the turn of events. I looked after Sadie, her skirt swinging from side to side as she headed toward the serving line. She walked with authority that no one seemed to question. She inspected the line, and was pointing out things while workers hustled to make everything right. Not what I expected at all.
It was a chilling morning, doubly so since I had to leave the hovel before the sun was above the buildings. I made it to the Kitchen well before nine or at least Houser said I would be early. I was stamping my feet on the steps, and hugging myself when I heard the door begin to open.
“You’re going to have to collect better clothes if you want to make this your lifestyle,” Sadie said, while waving me in. “You’re early,” she commented.
“Don’t have a watch,” I responded as I stepped into the warmth. It was the first time I had needed a watch since I threw it in the river. She locked the door behind me and started walking to the dining area expecting me to follow. I followed like a dog.
“The door to the right,” Sadie instructed while pointing to the far wall, “leads to a shower room. There’s a wash basin to wash your clothes and a dryer. Clean up, and we’ll get started in about an hour.” She turned, and headed back toward what I expected was the real kitchen area. She left no room for dissent.
“What if I say no?” I asked. Might as well find out how this all works. I wasn’t used to feeling like someone’s slave. Sadie turned around and looked at me with a calm glare.
“If you’re not clean, you can’t touch the food,” Sadie stated firmly, “if you can’t help, we won’t like each other.” Her hands found her hips and she stared at me. I almost came back with a smart-ass remark, but couldn’t find the courage. She was very imposing for such a petite woman.
“Clean it is,” I said cheerfully. I really didn’t want Sadie’s ire. I had a strange feeling it would be a costly thing to behold. Sadie just turned and continued on her previous path.
The shower room was large. I guessed the building must have needed it in its prior life. It was set up like one you might find in an old dormitory. A row of sinks, a hall of toilets and a large, open shower room with five shower heads. In the sink portion, there was a utility basin with an old dryer next to it. I followed Sadie’s instructions.
I stripped down and threw my clothes in the basin. There was detergent above the faucet which I used to scrub the clothes. The water turned a nasty shade of tan as I washed. I guess five days in the same clothes does that. I rinsed the clothes as best I could and went to toss them in the dryer. The dryer held a towel that I guess was meant for me. I exchanged the towel for my clean, but wet, clothes and put the dryer on a one hour cycle.
Above one of the regular sinks was a set of hotel toiletries sitting on the metal tray below the mirror. The tray held a cheap plastic-wrapped toothbrush and comb, along with a small bar of soap, a tiny toothpaste tube and a mini shampoo. I didn’t recognized myself in the mirror. My reddish-brown hair, which hadn’t been combed in five days, was matted, and it stuck out in strange directions. I was sporting the beginnings of a sparse beard, and I was shocked to see some of it coming in gray. I had never had gray hair before. My face was basically filthy with streaks of oily dirt where I had wiped it with my dirty hands. I had aged ten years in five days. Amber would have been pissed.
I grabbed the soap and shampoo and headed to the shower. I scrubbed myself thoroughly and then repeated the process a couple more times. I closed my eyes with my head under the warm rain and tried to see Amber again. She was there, missing the perfection I could once see. I hated losing that perfection, but it wasn’t ripping me apart as before. I knew I wouldn’t be jumping off any more bridges. I also knew I wouldn’t be returning to my old life. The mirror convinced me Houser didn’t have the answers either. I owed him five days, so that’s how long I had to figure out things. At least Sadie had my day planned for me. I really didn’t want to think any more.
I dried off, combed my hair and brushed my teeth. I felt slightly more normal. I lost a little portion of the freedom Houser had tried to instill. It was replaced with a desire to do something. I just wish I knew what that something was. I looked at my scraggly baby beard and wished I had a razor. I didn’t like the gray hairs — Amber would have hated them. I remembered trying not to shave on Sundays. It was just a lazy thing, to make Sunday a do-nothing day. Amber nixed it almost immediately. I remember her sitting me in a chair, then straddling me and shaving me herself. We made love like teenagers that day, me promising never to not shave and her promising to shave me personally if I reneged. The memory brought a mixture of tremendous love and horrible sadness. A potent mix that always caused tears. I wished I had a razor.
I spent another twenty minutes with my memories while I waited for the clothes to dry. I washed out my towel and exchanged it with my clothes in the dryer. I set the dial for thirty minutes on the dryer and fired it up. I walked out a clean man.