What She Found in the Woods

You’d think no one would steal asparagus, but it happened just the other day. Junkies will literally steal anything. The woman who did it couldn’t even sell the asparagus and ended up bringing it back. Maria fed her one last time and told her she couldn’t come to the shelter any more. I could tell Maria felt bad about it as she watched the woman weep uncontrollably. Then Maria said, ‘Rock, meet bottom,’ and walked away.

The woman stopped crying immediately. Like a spigot turned off. It was impressive, but I’ve seen better.

Jinka could talk and cry at the same time. Sobs sighed in and out of her effortlessly, and her nose didn’t even run. Water flowed only from her eyes and slid off her sculpted jawbone like one of those miraculous statues that weep in everlasting perfection. And, while weeping, she’d tell her version of the story with such eloquence, how could it be anything but the truth?

‘She was starting to scare me. She was scaring all of us. She took it so seriously, like it was real, and then it just kept getting worse and worse, and we all wanted out. But she wouldn’t let us. It was like she believed it all,’ Jinka said as she wept.

And they had proof, in a way. It was in my notebook, written in my handwriting. I did all the posts online, even though the rest of the Five stood over my shoulder while I wrote. They told me how good my stories were. How amazing it was that I could come up with all of this in my head.

Jinka even called me a genius.

‘Are you OK?’

I spin around and find Maria behind me. ‘Sure. Yeah. Just counting,’ I say.

Maria raises an eyebrow. She takes the clipboard and sees that the box count is completed, and her expression changes. ‘Sorry,’ she says, ‘but you were standing so still. I thought you’d fallen asleep on your feet.’

I smile and shrug and scoot past her on my way to the chopping station. I’m not OK. Every second my body filters out more and more of the drugs. Soon, I’ll be me. Or what’s left of me.

‘Hey,’ Maria says, calling me back. ‘Why haven’t you ever asked to work out front?’

I shake my head and look at my feet. ‘I like where I am.’ When I look up at Maria, she’s searching me for something.

‘You’re really just here to help. Or for help,’ she says. It isn’t a question – but it is, too. She’s making a statement, but she doesn’t know if it’s right or wrong.

‘I’m here to work,’ I say.

Maria gives me another one of her penetrating looks. ‘I won’t say no,’ she finally says, ‘but come with me to the circle first. You don’t have to talk. Just come.’

I shrug and follow her. The rest of the back-of-house staff are waiting for Maria to start.

I’m wedged between two of the beefy Latina cooks. They grab my hands automatically, like I’m just another chicken they have to butcher. That makes me feel oddly welcome. I am here, like them. No better, no worse, no different. I hang on to them because I know they’re real. I can trust that. As soon as my antipsychotics wear off, I don’t know if I’ll be able to trust much else.

The meeting begins. Everyone communes with his or her higher power, asking to be granted the serenity to make it through another day sober.

‘We got some sad news last night,’ Maria announces. ‘The police found more human remains that didn’t fit with the out-of-state hunter. There’s no easy way to say this. It turns out, it was Sandy.’

I did hear right. My grandparents were talking about another body.

I hear mumbling of all kinds from the circle. Things like, ‘The programme is life or death.’ And, ‘But for the grace of God, go I.’

‘How’d she die?’ one of the cooks asks.

‘No word on that yet,’ Maria replies, looking down.

Everyone is silent for a while.

‘Do they know when she died?’ the other cook asks.

‘I asked, and they were shady on the details. Within the last few days, was all they said. So if anyone has anything to say to the police, speak up. Sandy had family, and they deserve answers. Even if it is just another OD,’ Maria says.

Everyone nods at the floor sadly, but it’s obvious no one here has any information. I remember my first day here, two of the cooks talking about Sandy going missing, and how she was still able to trick. I steal a glance at them on either side of me now, but I can’t tell what they’re thinking.

Maria asks if anyone wants to share, but no one does. They’re looking at me, but not in a judgemental way. They’re all just waiting to see if I’m going to say something. When I don’t, the meeting ends with the usual ‘Keep Coming’ chant that I’ve heard a bunch of times, and then we all break off to get to work.

Aura-Blue finds me in the back before she starts her shift. She gives me one of her coconut-scented hugs and tells me she has so much to tell me, and how did I like riding my bike all this way? And then she realizes she’s got to get started on her side-work because Mila was late picking her up again because she was up all night.

There’s a lot hanging in that statement, and I’m assuming it has something to do with the new guy Mila’s fooling around with, but my brain is flashing with so many lights, and everything seems so loud, that I can’t manage to squeeze out anything more than an, ‘OK, see you later.’