Total pages in book: 49
Estimated words: 47241 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 47241 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 236(@200wpm)___ 189(@250wpm)___ 157(@300wpm)
I heard the clicking of the deadbolt, and the door opened.
“Hey, Jason,” I said, still shivering despite being indoors. “Sorry to bother you.”
He wiped his mouth with the napkin in his hand, swallowing down whatever he was eating. “Just having dinner. What’s up?”
“What’s up? Did you know,” I lowered my voice, “there’s a crazy person camped out by the dumpster?”
He frowned. “Crazy person?”
“Yeah. I mean, they’d have to be to sleep outside in this weather. They should be in a shelter or something. They’ll freeze to death.”
He nodded slowly. “Yes, it’s going to be cold tonight.”
I went on, “And honestly, Jason, I don’t feel comfortable being all alone back there at night to begin with. Now I have to deal with homeless people camping right next to my garage? Next, I won’t be able to toss my trash without having to jump over piles of poop or dirty needles. They can’t live there.”
He gave me a look, like I was being a little cruel.
“Oh, come on, Jason. You know I’m sympathetic—the world isn’t an easy place—but women have to protect themselves. You have a daughter. You know what I mean. Homeless encampments aren’t safe for anyone.”
He looked down at the ground for a second, like he was in no mood for this conversation. “I understand your concern about strangers living in the alleyway, but I already talked to the guy, and I promise you, he’s harmless. He said he’s only staying for a few days, and then he’s moving on. So no encampment.”
“You knew about him sleeping there? And you didn’t do anything?” I snapped.
I wondered why the other tenants and our neighbors weren’t making a stink. The people on our block were way more uptight than me. Mostly because they were older and grew up in this neighborhood. That somehow turned them into guard dogs. They were constantly spying on everyone and had the cops on speed dial. You couldn’t throw so much as a gum wrapper on the sidewalk—not that I would, because litter bugs. Blech!—without hearing about it.
“Meri, there’s nothing to worry about, okay? Just pretend he’s not there, and he’ll be gone by next weekend.”
I narrowed my eyes. It was one thing to be sympathetic, but having a vagrant camp on our property wasn’t the solution. He needed to be where he could get access to resources, food, warmth, and, well, a bathroom. “I’m calling the owners.”
Jason shook his head. “Be my guest, but by the time they do anything, he’ll be gone.”
I couldn’t believe this. “So I’m just going to have to deal with a man going to the bathroom all over the place, dumping his trash everywhere?”
“He’s been there for two nights already. Did you see any of that?”
“Well, no.”
“Then?” Jason raised a brow.
“That’s not the point. How am I supposed to use the garage with some strange man right there? What if he attacks me?”
Jason sighed. “I need to go. My food’s getting cold. But trust me when I tell you he’s not going to bother you. He doesn’t do drugs or drink. He’s just…different is all.”
“Camping in the cold isn’t different. It’s suicidal. I’m going to sue if I come home to a popsicle man back there. PTSDD—popsicle trauma syndrome over dead dude.”
“Good night, Meri.” Jason closed the door.
“Wha-what?” I felt like the world was going mad. Being compassionate didn’t mean giving up your own rights or safety. It didn’t mean letting people break the law and live wherever they liked.
“You’d better be right,” I yelled through the door. “He needs to be gone by next weekend, or I’m calling the cops.”
I huffed and went to my apartment to defrost.
CHAPTER THREE
“Seriously? You’re siding with Jason?” I said to Kay later in the week as we both virtually climbed our way to Mount Everest from the warmth and safety of stair machines in the gym. We tried to meet up here three times a week after work. Kay took her workouts seriously, which kept me honest. There was no slacking on her watch.
“Of course I’m siding with Jason.” Panting, Kay shrugged. “It’s a city.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I huffed out my words with ten minutes left in my workout. God, please help me finish. This is brutal. But I’d eaten a box of Twinkies for lunch, so now it was time to pay up.
“In a city,” she replied, “you get access to incredible restaurants, art, culture, and vibes, but with it comes crime, gross smells, weirdos, too much traffic, and the homeless. It’s part of the deal.”
“The guy is literally a foot from my garage, and I have to get out of my truck to open it, not to mention, I have to walk all the way to the back stairs to get inside.” Our building didn’t have direct access to the garages, which were four separate spaces. You had to use the concrete stairs that ran between our building and the building next door. At the bottom of the stairs was a steel gate leading to the alley.