“This is great,” Loreda said.
Electricity. Mattresses. A floor beneath their feet. A roof over their heads.
But … six dollars. How in the world could she pay for this? They’d lost every cent they had.
“Are you okay, Mom?” Loreda asked.
“Can we go exploring?” Ant asked. “Maybe there’s other kids here.”
Elsa nodded distractedly, stood there. “Go on. Don’t be gone long.”
Elsa left the cabin after them. She could see several cabins and at least fifty tents spread out across five or six acres. People milled about, gathering firewood, chasing children. It looked more like a town than a ditch-bank camp, with signs that pointed the way to toilets and laundry and school.
The good fortune of being here was tempered by her fear of losing it. How long could she live on credit?
She went back to her truck and picked up the box of supplies Loreda had gathered from the Salvation Army. Clothes, shoes and coats for the children, sheets, a single frying pan. And some food—enough for two days if they were careful.
What then?
She carried it into their cabin and closed the door.
“Hey,” Jack said, seated on one of the beds.
Elsa almost dropped the box in surprise.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to scare you. It seems I couldn’t stay away.”
“I thought you weren’t supposed to be here.”
“I have a fondness for breaking rules.”
Elsa set the box on the floor and sat down beside him. “I don’t know how I’ll pay for this. I’m grateful. Truly. It’s just…”
“It costs money you don’t have.”
“Yes.” It felt good to say it out loud. “We lost everything in the flood.”
“I wish I had money to give you, but a job like mine doesn’t pay much.”
“I’m surprised it pays at all.” She looked at him. “What is your job, exactly?”
“I work for the Workers Alliance. The Popular Front. Whatever you want to call it.”
“The Communist Party.”
“Yes. There are about forty of us on the payroll across the state. Support in Hollywood is high right now, with what’s going on in Europe. I write for the Daily Worker, sign up new members, lead study groups, and organize strikes. Basically, I do whatever I can do to help people who are being taken advantage of by the capitalist system. And I spread the word that there’s a better way.” He met her gaze and returned it with a steady one of his own. “How did you end up living in that camp? As a single woman…”
She tucked her hair behind one ear. “You’ve heard my story before, believe me. We left bad times in Texas and found it worse in California.”
“Your husband?”
“Gone.”
“So, he’s a fool.”
Elsa smiled. She’d never quite thought of it that way, but she liked it. “That’s my position, yes. And you? Are you married?”
“Nope. Never been. Women tend to be scared of the trouble I bring. The big, bad Communist.”