Chapter Text
Joel went back to the food center the next Sunday, and the one after that. What started as a favor to his daughter became a new kind of rhythm in his life. He’d wake up early, make coffee, and drive into the city with Sarah, who would usually spend half the trip scrolling through her phone and the other half quizzing him on historical dates for an upcoming test.
He got to know the regulars. He learned that Tess’s full name was Therese, that she was happily married and had a ten-year-old son who she described as “a tiny terrorist with a genius-level talent for Lego.” Her husband worked shifts, so she volunteered to have something to do that didn't involve stepping on tiny plastic bricks.
He got to know the other volunteers, including the boy he’d seen before. His name was Henry and he had a 3 years old younger brother.
And he kept seeing the girl. She was a fixture now, as regular as Joel and Sarah. She’d appear around mid-morning, always alone. She’d make a circuit of the room, her eyes scanning everything, the new shipments, the volunteers, the exits. She’d carefully select items, usually non-perishables that would keep, and tuck them into her backpack. She never took more than it seemed she could carry. She never spoke to anyone. She just observed, took what she needed, and left.
One Sunday, Sarah was helping a family with a fussy toddler and Joel was stacking cans of soup. The girl was nearby, eyeing a box of granola bars. He saw her hesitate, her hand hovering. She looked around, her jaw tight.
“Go on,” Joel said, his voice low. “Take a couple. That’s what they’re there for.”
The girl’s head snapped towards him, her green eyes wide with surprise, then narrowing with suspicion. She looked like a cornered animal, ready to bolt.
“I wasn’t… I was just looking,” she mumbled, her voice defensive.
“Didn't say you weren't,” Joel replied, going back to his cans. He kept his voice casual. “Just sayin’, if you want one, take it. No one’s counting.”
There was a long silence. He could feel her staring at him. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw her hand dart out, grab two bars, and shove them in her pack. She was gone a second later.
The next week, Joel was helping Tess unload a truck. It was a hot day, and sweat was dripping down his back. He took a break, grabbing a bottle of water from a cooler. He saw the girl, sitting on a low wall outside, her back against the brick. She was staring at the ground, looking smaller and more tired than usual. On impulse, he grabbed a second bottle and walked over.
“Here,” he said, holding it out. “It’s hot.”
She flinched, then looked up. Recognition flickered in her eyes, followed by that same suspicion. “I didn't take anything today.”
“I know. It’s not about that. It’s just water.” He set it down on the wall next to her, not waiting for her to take it. “I’m Joel.”
He walked back to the truck. When he glanced over a minute later, the water bottle was gone, and so was she. But he saw her a few minutes later, through the chain-link fence of a nearby playground, sitting on a swing, slowly twisting back and forth, the water bottle in her hand.
Slowly, cautiously, a strange sort of rapport developed. It wasn't conversation. It was more like a mutual, silent acknowledgment. He’d nod at her. She’d give a barely perceptible tip of her head in return. He’d make sure to leave a box of apples near the edge of a table where she could easily reach them. He noticed she had a particular fondness for anything with peanut butter.
He mentioned her to Tess one afternoon.
“The quiet kid? Yeah, I’ve seen her around for a few months now,” Tess said, wiping down a counter. “She’s just one of the many. We get a lot of kids who’ve learned the system. They know where to get a meal, where to find a safe place to hang out for a few hours. She’s smart. Keeps her head down.”
“She have parents?” Joel asked, trying to sound merely curious.
“Probably. Somewhere. Or a group home. Hard to say. Most of them are just… lost in the cracks.” Tess looked at him, a knowing glint in her eye. “She’s got you curious, huh?”
Joel shrugged. “Just noticed her, is all.”
“Uh-huh.” Tess’s smile was knowing. “You’ve got that look, Miller. The same look my husband gets when he finds a stray kitten.”
“I ain’t comparing a kid to a cat, Tess.”
“No, you’re just thinking about her. Wondering if she’s okay. That’s how it starts.” She clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on, grumpy. More potatoes need moving.”
A few months into this new routine, Marlene showed up.
Joel was in the back, helping Henry sort through a box of donated romance novels, when Tess called him over. “Joel! This is Marlene. She runs the mobile outreach part of our operation.”
Marlene was a striking Black woman with close-cropped hair and an air of quiet authority. She shook his hand firmly. “Tess tells me you’ve become a regular. That’s good to hear.”
“Just helping out,” Joel said.
“We need more of that,” Marlene said. She turned to Tess. “We’re short-staffed for the Thursday run to the Chelsea area. Can you spare anyone?”
Tess looked at Joel. “You free on Thursdays, Miller?”
Joel hesitated, his schedule was flexible. “What’s involved?”
“We take a van to areas where people can’t easily get to the center,” Marlene explained. “It’s further out, more industrial. People living in motels, underpasses, and abandoned buildings. The ones who can’t make it here for whatever reason.”
It was a different world. He understood the distinction. The people who came to the center had a baseline level of stability, an apartment, a way to get there. The people Marlene served had nothing.
“I’ll go,” he heard himself say.
The next Thursday, he and Tess rode with Marlene in a beat-up cargo van loaded with supplies. They drove past the familiar parts of the city into a landscape of empty lots, shuttered factories, and lonely stretches of road. They stopped at a few places, a cheap motel where a family of six was living in one room, a homeless encampment tucked under a highway overpass. Marlene knew everyone by name. She didn't just hand out food; she talked to them, asked about their kids, their health, their problems. Joel mostly just carried boxes and stayed quiet, watching.
At their last stop, near a deserted strip mall, Joel was lifting a box of canned goods out of the van when he saw a flash of auburn hair. He froze. A figure darted from behind a dumpster, grabbed something from a pile of discarded scrap, and disappeared into the broken window of an old laundromat.
It was her. The girl from the center.
His stomach tightened. This wasn't her neighborhood. This was miles away from the community center, in a place far more dangerous and desperate. What was she doing here?
He didn't say anything to Tess or Marlene. He just finished the run in a daze, the image of her small frame disappearing into that dark building burned into his mind.
Two days later, on Saturday, he and Tess were back in the van, doing a smaller drop-off in the same area. Joel kept his eyes peeled. As they were packing up, he saw her again. She was sitting on a low wall, farther down the street, her knees pulled up to her chest. She was just watching them.
“Tess,” Joel said, his voice low. “Give me a minute.”
He walked towards her. She saw him coming and tensed, ready to run. But he stopped a good twenty feet away, not wanting to spook her.
“Hey,” he called out, keeping his voice calm.
She just stared at him, her eyes wide and watchful.
“I know you,” he said. “From the center. In Dorchester. You used to come all the time. Now I see you here.” He gestured around at the bleak surroundings. “What happened?”
For a long moment, he didn't think she was going to answer. Then, her voice, rough and quiet, cut through the air. “Nothin’ happened. This is where I am now.”
“Why?” Joel pressed gently. “It’s not safe around here.”
Her jaw tightened. “It’s not safe anywhere.” She looked past him, towards the van, towards Tess. “You with them?”
“I’m just helping out a friend.”
She looked back at him, and for a second, the suspicion faded, replaced by something that looked startlingly like exhaustion. “Just leave me alone, okay?”
Before he could say another word, she slid off the wall and took off running, disappearing behind a row of derelict buildings.
Joel stood there for a long moment, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. Tess walked up behind him. “Friend of yours?”
“I don’t know,” Joel said honestly.