Following Rain Read online

“Oh, privileged information, huh? Okay, I get it.” He sat for moment and then asked, “What’s your name, if you don’t mind my asking? I’m Paul, as I said.”

  Her fingers paused above the keyboard for an instant. “Rain,” she answered, resuming her typing.

  He opened his mouth to ask another question but was interrupted when Maria came out of her office and greeted him.

  Maria Sanchez was short and slightly overweight, and Paul guessed her to be in her early fifties. Her black hair was thick and curly, and she had a pair of glasses that dangled from a chain around her neck. Her eyes were dark and piercing, but it was the light in her countenance that caught his attention. She exuded an attitude of compassion and caring, and he liked her instantly.

  “I was expecting Jennifer,” Maria said, shaking Paul’s hand firmly.

  “She couldn’t make it. I was sent in her place.”

  “I hope nothing is wrong.”

  Adopting a sympathetic expression, Paul said, “Her father passed away.”

  Maria’s countenance darkened. “Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that. We’ll certainly be thinking about her and her family at this difficult time.” She motioned toward her office. “Please, come in. We can talk in here.”

  As Paul turned to follow, he leaned close to Rain and whispered, “Nice meeting you.”

  Rain nodded but continued to type without looking up.

  Paul sat in the chair across from Maria’s desk and took out his digital recorder.

  “Let me express appreciation on behalf of the entire staff, Mr. Blakely, for KNEX-TV’s support of our fund-raising event,” Maria said, propping her elbows on her desk and resting her chin on her hands.

  “My pleasure,” Paul said, hoping it sounded sincere. “Jennifer would have loved to be here, but these things happen.”

  “Yes, they do,” she replied, a furrow creasing her brow. Then brightening, she said, “I’m glad you could make it, though. The support is so important, especially this year. Now where would you like to begin?”

  “Why don’t we start with a little background information on the homeless shelter?” Paul replied, turning on the digital recorder.

  “Great idea.” Maria sat back in her chair. “Welcoming Hands was established in the late Thirties, during the Great Depression. Several local organizations united together in an effort to help the growing number of the unemployed and homeless.”

  Paul nodded and tried to appear interested.

  “Originally, the shelter was designated only for men and was to operate until the economy improved. But the community leaders soon found it necessary to keep the shelter going indefinitely and to accept all guests.”

  “Why’s that?” he asked.

  “It wasn’t economic conditions alone that contributed to men, women, and children being homeless.” Maria emphasized women and children. “There were many reasons: divorce, domestic abuse, addictions, mental illness, unemployment. So the local leaders dug deep to find the funds to keep it operational.”

  “Is it unusual to have men, women, and children in the same facility?”

  “Very unusual. And it’s not without its problems. But as a humanitarian organization, we decided that no one would be turned away. Men aren’t the only ones who are homeless. Many women and their precious children are becoming increasingly homeless, too. So we admit everyone. However, the men’s sleeping quarters and showers are in the basement, and the women and children’s quarters and showers are on the second floor. They do share the common eating area on the main floor, though.”

  That was enough background information to satisfy Paul. “You’re having a fundraising event soon. Tell me about it.”

  Maria’s eyes brightened. “This year, we’re really going all out. We’ve tried craft sales, quilting bazaars, silent auctions, penny carnivals, food booths, fitness activities, and children’s games in the past. This year we’re combining everything into one event and calling it Super Saturday. We’re going to add a karaoke contest and a movie after dark. It’s all happening at Memorial Stadium. The school district has been kind enough to let us use it . . . as long as it doesn’t interfere with their football program. There are no home games that week so we’re good to go. And in case of inclement weather, we have booked the auditorium next door as a backup.”

  “Super Saturday is a catchy name,” Paul said. “How are you paying for it? There must be a lot of overhead costs.”

  “Some funding comes from local charitable organizations but most comes from private and corporate donations. They’re enough to cover operating costs and the organization of our annual fundraiser, but they don’t begin to cover upgrade and replacement costs. And do we ever need to upgrade the plumbing and electrical systems! Plus, we require more bedding and pillows, and we need to improve the handicapped facilities. Our kitchen received a partial upgrade last year, but we need new appliances and more utensils.”

  “Is there any government funding?”

  “The City of Seattle spent over forty million dollars last year on homeless centers. But there is a growing resistance to tax money being used to help fund us.”

  “Why is that?”

  “We’re a privately-operated facility, Mr. Blakely, and it’s becoming less politically correct to spend tax money on private organizations when there are many public facilities standing with their hands out.”

  “What happens if you lose funding?”

  Maria’s expression tightened. “We can’t let that happen. Homelessness is a growing issue, and we have to make sure the mayor and council share our concerns.”

  “That sounds like a tall order. Tax money is always a hot topic. How much do you hope to raise?”

  “A hundred thousand dollars would be a dream come true. That will allow for the necessary upgrades and appliances, and it will sustain our programs for the upcoming year.”

  Paul pursed his lips. “If you do raise a hundred grand, won’t city council say that you don’t need their further assistance and cut off funding altogether?”

  Not to be deterred, Maria replied, “That’s why Super Saturday has to bring out the citizens of Seattle in droves. If they support it and have a good time, and then word gets out that city council is considering cutting funding . . .”

  Paul chuckled. “And elections are just around the corner.”

  Maria smiled guiltily and then grew serious. “Think what a hundred thousand dollars and the grant from city council could do. We could get this place back up to par.”

  “When is your Super Saturday event?”

  “September Twenty-First.”

  “So that gives you six weeks,” Paul said. “Do you have other promotional means besides KNEX-TV?”

  “Rain is organizing an e-mail and Facebook campaign. We are also putting posters up in strategic locations and sending out flyers to businesses. And the Seattle Times has agreed to run some ads for us.”

  Paul put away the digital recorder. “You seem to have the bases covered. I think I have all the information I need. I’ll just—”

  “You should have a tour of the homeless shelter before you go.”

  “Actually, I think I have enough—”

  “And see firsthand why we need the money so desperately.”

  Paul made a show of checking his watch. “Okay, I should have time for a fast tour. Then I’ll come back the day after tomorrow with a cameraman to get some live footage, and we should be all set.”

  “Excellent.” Maria stood up spryly. “I have an appointment right now, but I’ll have Rain show you around.”

  Paul motioned toward the doorway. “She seems pretty busy.”

  Maria waved her hand dismissively. “I think she can spare a few minutes.” She stepped into the outer office. “Rain, would you show Mr. Blakely around the shelter while I see my next appointment? I’ll catch up to you when I can.”

  Rain glanced at Paul and said, “I’ll just back up my files.”

  Paul waited while she completed the back up.
He noticed how she focused on the task with the same intensity she had demonstrated when he was trying to make small talk with her earlier. Her brown eyes were a study in concentration.

  But it was more than that. It was something deeper. She seemed distant and closed but that was okay. It might make for a shorter tour.

  CHAPTER 4

  As Rain led Paul into the main gathering area, she masked her frustration at the interruption. Deadlines were approaching. There was still a lot of promotional work to do and a list of sponsors to finish contacting. Still, a feature on KNEX-TV would parallel her social media blitz and reach a greater audience. And that was important to the success of the fundraiser.

  “How does the shelter operate?” Paul asked, surveying the room.

  “Welcoming Hands is a long-term facility,” she replied.

  When Paul looked at her quizzically, she explained, “Our mission is not just to provide food and shelter for homeless people. It’s to get them off the street and into permanent housing. It’s to teach them skills and provide them with resources to become self-sufficient.”

  “Impressive.”

  “Our mission?”

  “No, your answer. That’s the most you’ve said to me since I got here.”

  Rain felt her cheeks redden.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to embarrass you,” Paul said quickly. He cleared his throat and spoke in a slightly deeper tone. “So how many guests do you have here?”

  She narrowed her gaze and fixed her brown eyes on him. “You don’t give up, do you?”

  Paul shrugged modestly. “I am an investigative reporter.”

  “Okay, do you mean the number of guests as of now, or this morning, or what it will be like by midnight when the doors are locked for the night?”

  “That much fluctuation, huh?”

  “It can be a revolving door.”

  “As of right now, then.”

  “One hundred thirty.”

  Paul glanced around at the workers doing the cleaning jobs. “I only see a few people. Where is everyone?”

  “Some are in sessions with case workers, some are at school, and some are at work.”

  “At work? You mean they can stay at the homeless shelter and still have jobs?”

  Rain nodded. “Until we can help them find permanent housing and are sure they can manage on their own, yes.”

  Knitting his brow, Paul said, “That sounds like a tall order. So where do they all come from?”

  Where do they all come from? Rain had asked herself that question many times. “From everywhere,” she replied. “Some are just passing through. Others were born right here in Seattle. We’ve had more than two hundred at one time before. But that’s small compared to some of the larger shelters that can have over a thousand a night.”

  Paul murmured under his breath. “What do you have for staff to handle that many people?”

  Rain felt herself becoming less guarded. Paul seemed sincere in his questions, and it was important that he have the facts. “We have two professional and four paraprofessional workers. The professionals deal with the medical matters, and the paraprofessionals deal with the counseling. The other paid staff members, like me, help with the paperwork and assist in the kitchen and with anything else that needs to be done around here. The volunteers help with the laundry and clean up and so on.”

  Paul pointed to the rows of tables. “The facility cooks its own food, I assume. Obviously, you have to meet the health code.”

  In answer to his question, she led him into the kitchen. Several people were gathered around the stove and the island counter, wiping them with rags. Charlie was washing a stack of dishes in the stainless steel sink.

  Charlie looked up and waved. “Hey, do you want to see the sprayer, fella? Let me show you how it works.”

  “We’re busy right now, Charlie,” Rain said. “Maybe later, okay?”

  “Won’t take long.” He held it up and accidentally squeezed the trigger, releasing a jet of water.

  Paul jumped back and shielded his face protectively.

  “Be careful, Charlie,” Rain said, rushing forward. “Remember, you have to use the sprayer correctly.” She spoke firmly but not harshly.

  Charlie’s lip began to tremble. “I’m sorry, Rain.”

  She stroked his arm. “It’s okay. It was just an accident.”

  “I’ll be more careful.”

  Glancing over apologetically at Paul, she said, “I know you will.”

  Charlie turned back toward the sink and shot a spray at the dishes. “I’ll be like Mr. Clean.” He began to hum the jingle from the Proctor and Gamble TV advertisements.

  “Good. Finish up and then rest for a while,” Rain said. “Lunch dishes will be coming soon.”

  Charlie continued to hum to himself as he worked.

  Rain watched him for a moment longer and then motioned for Paul to follow her back into the main gathering room.

  “Who was that guy?” Paul asked.

  “One of the volunteers,” Rain replied quickly.

  “What’s his story?”

  “He works in the kitchen mostly. Now, let me show you something else. Come this way.”

  She led Paul to the set of stairs he had noticed earlier.

  “The women and children’s sleeping quarters are up here,” she said, conducting him upstairs. “We run dorm style housing here so that families can at least stay in the same building. The women and young children sleep on the second floor. The single men sleep in the basement.”

  “What about whole families?”

  “We have two separate apartment-style rooms for them.”

  She opened a door and Paul whistled under his breath. The large room was lined with blue mats that were leaning against the walls. The mats looked well used and were spaced uniformly around the perimeter. No bedding or personal effects were visible in the otherwise empty interior.

  “I was expecting beds,” he commented.

  “Mats are easier to take down and set up. They are placed against the walls so the cleaning staff can come in each morning at ten. Blankets and pillows are signed out each night at seven. Once the mats are laid down, the rooms get a little crowded.”

  “What about restroom facilities?”

  “The sleeping quarters each have two bathrooms and two large shower rooms. But the plumbing is out of date and the pipes clang and rattle. And sometimes there isn’t enough hot water to go around.”

  Paul looked at her and shook his head. “How do you do it?”

  “Do what?”

  “Accommodate these people. I mean, aren’t they responsible for their own predicament? The resources and money that it takes to run this facility must be incredible.”

  Rain momentarily bristled. She’d heard this argument before and it irked her. “Yes, some people have undoubtedly brought this condition upon themselves. But that doesn’t mean society should turn a blind eye and leave them on the street or in the park to die of starvation or exposure, does it?”

  Without giving Paul a chance to answer, she continued, “Before laying blame or pointing fingers, we need to make sure people have their basic needs met. Education and self-improvement might come in time, but they are not the first order of business. Not even the second. They can only come when people have adequate shelter, food, and clothing. Basic needs today; life skills and job placement tomorrow.”

  Paul exhaled sharply. “Wow, you’re pretty passionate about this.”

  Rain looked at him unapologetically. “Let me show you something.” She led him back downstairs and slipped into the office for a moment, returning with a bag of candy. “We’ll hand this out as we visit with the guests. It will help break the ice and let them know you’re friendly.” She arched an eyebrow. “You are friendly, right?”

  “I’m trying to be.”

  She studied him momentarily and then handed him the bag of candy.

  Paul glanced at his watch as though he didn’t have time. But the candy caught the
attention of a little African American boy who approached him and eyed it anxiously. The little boy held a figure of a small toy horse that was carved out of wood.

  Rain bent down so she was eye-level with him. “How are you doing, Jayden?”

  “Fine,” he replied, staring intently at the bag in Paul’s hand.

  “Would you like a piece of candy?” Paul asked.

  The little boy wet his lips but hesitated.

  “It’s okay,” Rain said. “He’s a friend.”

  Paul took one step closer. “What’s your name?”

  “Jayden Leroy Williams,” the little boy replied. He held up his hand with his fingers spread wide. “I’m five years old.”

  Paul offered him a piece of candy and was instantly besieged by the two other children who had been watching TV with Jayden. They also held a wooden animal figure in one hand, while their other hand shot out and their eyes shone in anticipation.

  Paul gave each of them a piece of candy, and the two older children returned to the couch.

  Jayden lingered behind. He held up his toy wooden horse and whispered, “He likes candy, too.”

  “Well, then I guess I’d better give him one.”

  Jayden giggled as he accepted the second piece of candy.

  Paul placed a finger to his lips and then winked at him. Jayden winked back to seal the secret. With that, he flung his arms around Paul and hugged his legs. Then the little boy galloped away as though riding a horse and joined the other two children who had resumed watching their program.

  Rain studied Paul’s reaction. He seemed speechless, surprise registered in his eyes. He watched the children in bemusement as they sucked on the candy contentedly, and then he continued around the room, handing a candy to each adult.

  The teenage girl who had been dusting the light fixtures earlier was now wiping the chairs in the eating area with a damp cloth. She regarded him carefully as he approached and held the bag toward her. She glanced at the others who were enjoying the treat but still seemed reluctant, although she stared at the candy.

  “It’s okay, go ahead,” Paul said, extending the bag closer to her.

  She shook her head and backed away.

  Paul placed a piece of candy in his mouth. “Tastes good,” he said, coaxing her gently.