by Gary Beck
They stood on the sidewalk, a swirling cluster of humanity that forced pedestrians to go around them, as Beth’s statement sunk in.
Hector brooded for a few moments, then smiled weakly, "I’ll get used to it. I’ve had enough practice lately. I just have to control my temper." "We’re all going to have to learn to better control ourselves for the good of our kids," Kiesha said.
Peter was still angry at the storekeeper but shrugged it off. "Speaking of the kids, it’s time to take them to the park before they go wild." They went down the hill on 161st, where Hector pointed out Yankee Stadium to the fascinated children. They followed the directions that the park attendant had given them. With only minor detours they made their way under the Major Deegan Expressway, following the curving street until they could see the park.
Beth saw the walkway at the edge of the river. "Should we take the children to see the view of Manhattan?"
Peter shook his head, "Let’s take them to an open space where they can run around, and we don’t have to worry about them falling in the water. I’m beginning to feel like a sheepherder keeping them together."
"Maybe we should buy a sheepdog," Hector quipped, "as soon as we get some money."
The small, open park was still covered with clean, inviting snow. The children raced off to a tiny hill, leaving trails of footprints for the adults to follow. The boys, led by Pablo and Raheen, started building a snow fort. The girls watched for a few minutes, then asked if they could help. After a brief conference, the girls were admitted to the architect’s association and allowed to participate. The adults looked across the river at the public housing in Manhattan that concealed the agonies and hopes of the poor. Ice chunks floated out to sea, obscuring the usual detritus that mindless people tossed in rivers as obscene offerings to the gods of pollution.
"What crimes have our innocent rivers committed to deserve such violation?" Peter murmured. A small flock of cormorants perched on half-immersed pilings, on the lookout for pickings, hopefully only slightly toxic fish, or other non-fatal edible matter that wouldn’t poison their hatchlings. Traffic roared across the bridge, showering soot and fumes below, but despite the screech and grind of implacable wheels, the park was a tranquil escape from the squalid E.A.U. office.
Beth started the discussion by mentioning their need to agree on a course of action, "I’ve been thinking about our situation and we have two immediate concerns; one is to be sure we want to be sent to a hotel; the other is to decide how we do it."
Hector was decisive, "I’ll do what has to be done to get to the hotel."
Kiesha chimed in, "Me too. Let’s just go up to that old social worker witch and tell her what we want."
Beth played devil’s advocate, "What if she says no?"
Kiesha’s voice hardened, "Then we tell her to send us to the hotel, or we’ll organize a protest demonstration."
"That would probably mean going to the commissioner’s office." Beth clarified. "We might get arrested."
Hector was philosophic, "Well, we can’t stay in the E.A.U. forever."
"When should we do it?" Peter asked.
"If we do it when we get back," Beth calculated, "Weller could stall us until tomorrow. If we do it in the morning and she says no, we can go to the commissioner’s office in the afternoon and camp there until they help us. Does that make sense to the rest of you?"
Kiesha spoke for them, "Right on, missy. Let’s do it." Peter and Hector nodded agreement.
"Then I’m going to enjoy the park," Beth said cheerfully. "You never know where we’ll be tomorrow."
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Now that the decision had been made to confront the system, everyone relaxed. They enjoyed the isolation of the park, despite the constant droning noise of traffic across the bridge. There were few boats on the river, a testimony to the growth of air traffic that rendered local shipping obsolete. However, the flow of waste and garbage to the sea was a testimony to the overwhelming lack of human concern with the environment. The many years of discharged oil and other pollutants had so darkened the waters that the rest of the poisons were invisible to casual observers. The few people who still frequented the riverbanks did not know how wearily the tide made its way to the sea. The children played on, unaware of the toxins they breathed in, as they frolicked in a tiny patch of refuge from the city of stone. When it was time to return to the E.A.U. for lunch, the children were reluctant to leave, and they kept pleading for five more minutes.
It was difficult for the adults to tear the children away from some of the few happy hours since the incarceration at the E.A.U. Their long faces cleared up when Kiesha told them they would come back in the afternoon.
They cheered and Beth took the opportunity once they calmed down to talk seriously to them, "You kids have behaved real well while we’ve been going through a difficult time. During the next few days we may have some problems. It’s very important that when I, Peter, Kiesha or Hector ask you to do something, you listen and do what we say. We’re relying on the older kids, Pablo, Raheen, Jennifer and Latoya to watch the younger kids. Do you have any problems with that?" The children all shook their heads no.
"We need your help," Kiesha added.
"We’re very proud of you," Hector said.
They walked back to the E.A.U. united in purpose. Miss Lily was happy to see them and even happier when Beth told her they were going back to the park in the afternoon. Everyone else ignored them, including Ms. Weller, who ostentatiously turned her back. They ate the government ration, disposed of the garbage, put their coats on and went out again. The temperature had gone up and the day was almost balmy. Pablo asked Peter if they could stop and see the snowman and they found a pleasant surprise. Someone had put buttons on the snowman’s chest and a scarf around his neck. He looked positively rakish. When they went past the deli on 161st street, the children remembered the incident in the morning and there was no clamor for candy. They got to the park without detours and the children galloped off in a happy pack. When the sun went down behind the tenements of Harlem, they gathered the children and went back to the E.A.U. The children were so tired from the unaccustomed day out that right after dinner they fell asleep like a contented pile of puppies. Even the adults slept well.
After breakfast, they waited until the clients settled onto the benches, then approached Ms. Weller. Beth spoke for them, "We’d like to talk to you, please."
Ms. Weller didn’t lift her eyes from the report she was writing, "I’m busy."
"When will you be free to talk to us?"
"Maybe this afternoon, or tomorrow. We’ll see."
"This can’t wait that long."
Ms. Weller looked up in annoyance, "I told you I was busy. Don’t you people understand English?"
Beth ignored the insult, "This is important."
Ms. Weller drummed her fingers impatiently, "Well, what is it?"
"We would like you to send our families to the King Charles hotel in Manhattan."
"What?"
"I said, we would like you to send our families to the King Charles Hotel…."
"I heard you. Where did you get such a crazy idea?"
"We don’t think the motel shelters are fit for children and we won’t go there."
Ms. Weller was fuming, "You’re not here to tell us what to do. We assign you to an appropriate facility after we assess your needs. Now I’ll talk to you another time."
Beth looked at the others and their nods of support reassured her that they were committed, "We have to talk now, Ms. Weller. The welfare of our children is at stake."
"Clients have to follow the rules."
"Do the rules say we have to go to a motel full of drug dealing and prostitution?"
"You don’t know what you’re talking about. You haven’t been there."
"I have," Hector said forcefully. "You sent me there last week. The girls were turning tricks with the doors to their rooms wide open. Junkies were getting high all over the place. It’s no place for kids."
<
br /> Ms. Weller was getting desperate to get rid of them, "You people don’t appreciate what we’re trying to do for you. If you don’t like the services we provide, feel free to go."
Beth refused to be diverted, "We’re here because we had family emergencies. We need help, but we’re not going somewhere that will endanger our children. Now are you going to help us?"
"I don’t like your attitude."
"I don’t mean any disrespect, but that’s not the issue. Will you help us?"
"I’ll have to check with my supervisor and let you know."
"When do you think that will happen?
"I’ll let you know."
As Beth and the others walked back to their enclave in the chairs, Kiesha said bitterly, "That witch won’t help us."
Beth wasn’t discouraged, "We knew that would happen. Right now, she thinks our demands are over. I don’t see any point in talking to her again. I suggest that after lunch we go to the Office of Homeless Services and ask to see the commissioner. If he won’t see us, we’ll sit-in until they send us to the King Charles hotel."
"I’m with you," Peter said. Kiesha and Hector echoed him. Feeling united with a common purpose, they moved closer together on the bench so they could talk without being overheard. The guard frowned at them for daring to move on the sacred objects but didn’t say anything. Ms. Weller studiously ignored them. The other clients sat in abject apathy, staring sightlessly at the mottled walls, waiting passively for however the system would dispose of them.
Miss Lily was the only exception to the general dejection. She walked to them diffidently, "I want to thank you all for takin’ my kids. I know you’re figurin’ some way to get out of here."
Beth smiled. "What makes you think that, Miss Lily?"
"I been watchin you. You all are too smart to let them treat you like trash. Me and the kids want to help you."
Kiesha made room on the bench. "Why don’t you sit here, Miss Lily."
"Thank you, chile.
"Hector leaned over, "Your kids are real nice youngsters. We were glad to take them to the park. Now we’re getting ready to refuse to go where they’re trying to send us. We may get arrested, but we’re not giving in. Do you want to deal with that?"
"I’ll do whatever has to be done for my kids."
"Are you sure you’re up to it physically?" Peter asked tactfully.
Miss Lily laughed, "You mean can a fat, old lady keep up with you?"
Peter was embarrassed, "I didn’t mean to insult you."
"I know that. You’d be surprised how well I manage."
Beth saw that the others liked Miss Lily as much as she did, so she said, "We’re going to the Department of Homeless Services and tell them we won’t go to a motel. Then we’ll ask them to send us to the King Charles hotel. We won’t take no for an answer."
"They wanted to send me and the kids to some motel here in the Bronx, but I wouldn’t take the kids there. Is this hotel safe?"
"Hector took me there the other day," Peter answered. "It didn’t look bad."
"It’s got to be better than that motel in Queens they sent me to," Hector added. "At least we didn’t see any drug dealing or prostitutes."
"We’d like to go with you, if you’ll have us," Miss Lily said.
Kiesha looked around at the others, "Are we agreed that Miss Lily and her kids will come with us?"
Everyone said, "Yes," and Beth welcomed her officially, "We’re glad to have you with us, Miss Lily. We’ll probably get arrested together."
Miss Lily beamed like a bronze Buddha, "I got arrested at a civil rights demonstration when I was a little girl, in Alabama. This seems pretty important to me."
Beth teased her, "Now that we know you’re a jailbird, why don’t you tell us about yourself."
Miss Lily leaned forward confidingly. "I was born in Selma, Alabama. My daddy was a bus driver for the city and he was crippled on the picket line by strikebreakers, during a municipal workers strike. The city wouldn’t give him any benefits, so we lost our house and moved in with his brother. Daddy never recovered. He got pneumonia and died a few months later. His brother left town and we couldn’t stay there anymore. We came north and stayed with some cousins in Harlem. I went to school but had to leave and go to work before I graduated from high school. I worked in a record store on 125th street and met a boy there. We dated for a long time, but momma hated him and she always bad-mouthed him. Then she had a heart attack and died. I didn’t want to live with my cousins after that, so me and my boyfriend got married and we had a little girl. Things was real nice for a while, then he got involved with some bad people and got arrested for robbery. Someone stabbed him to death in prison and I was left to bring up my little girl, Monique."
Beth was moved by the tale of suffering. "You’ve had a tough time. What happened to your daughter?"
"She was the sweetest girl in the world and smart as a whip. I wanted her to go to college, but she got involved with this fast talkin’ boy who got her pregnant. He moved in with us and they had two more kids. He always had money, but when I asked Monique if he was dealin’ drugs, she said he won it gamblin’. He was always respectful, and he didn’t hurt her, or even yell at the kids, so I didn’t make no fuss. I told Monique that I would watch the kids, if she would go to college. Then he upped and disappeared for a while. He came back five or six months later, and he was all messed up and usin’ drugs, but he said the things she wanted to hear. He was real lovin’ to her all the time and cooked for us and listened to her problems. Then he took off again and this time she was heartbroke. A few weeks later she started coughin’ and we took her to the doctor. We found out that no good man gave my baby tuberculosis and AIDS."
The looked at her pityingly, as tears ran down her cheeks. Kiesha whispered gently, "What happened to her?"
"She kept getting sicker and sicker, until she couldn’t even mind the kids anymore. I had to quit my job and go on welfare to take care of her and the kids. She got thinner and thinner and was in and out of the hospital. She just wasted away right in front of us. I had to keep the kids apart from her so they didn’t give each other anythin’. It was hard on them. They didn’t understand that their momma was dyin’ and they were too young for me to explain things. Then one night she must have stopped breathin’, cause when I brought her some tea in the morning she was gone. She just went quiet like and I didn’t even get to kiss her goodbye."
Miss Lily started crying again and Beth put her arms around her. "It’s horrible to lose a loved one like that. The children are lucky that you’re such a strong woman."
"Chile, I gets my strength from the lord."
Kiesha was outraged, "What happened to that animal? I bet you wish he burns in hell."
"At first my heart was full of hate," Miss Lily said, "then the lord helped me remember that the kids needed me. I threw that devil out of my soul and prayed that he wouldn’t victimize some other young girl, who just wanted to live in the fast lane."
Hector shook his head, "I could never forgive someone like that. I’d kill him."
"That wouldn’t bring my daughter back, and it would take away the only one who cares about her kids. If anythin’ happened to me, they’d have to go to foster care. I couldn’t abide that. I want them to end up better than their mother did. It’s been tough since the landlord evicted us so he could get more rent, but I know we’ll endure somehow."
"I don’t know if I could survive something like that," Kiesha said musingly.
Miss Lily looked at her serenely, "You’d have to for your kids sake. You could do it, chile."
Beth was beginning to realize that most of her perceptions of homelessness were completely wrong. She had always assumed without giving it much thought that the homeless were drug addicts, or mentally ill. Now the plight of her new friends showed her that bad luck, or more complicated reasons was a dreadful factor in determining what happened to people. In their different ways, each of her new friends had been trapped by circumstances b
eyond their control. They weren’t dysfunctional. They had all tried to do their best for their children and they were devoted caregivers. Like the poor and marginal income earners anywhere, they had no cushion in time of disaster. They all had struggled bravely against terrible odds and lost, but they weren't beaten. They still had pride, purpose and an overwhelming determination to protect their children. Beth knew that her situation was different. The fire may have made them homeless, but if they could manage for a while, and if Peter could keep his job, they could get out of their predicament. Their friends had a more difficult road ahead and she resolved to help them to the best of her ability.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
On the way to the subway station they reviewed what they would do at the Department of Homeless Services. People stared at them and the plastic bags they carried that contained their worldly goods. They got on the train at 149th street, took it into Manhattan and walked the rest of the way to the Homeless Services office on Beaver street. The security guard in the lobby was gossiping with the newsstand attendant and didn’t notice them as they got the floor of the executive offices from the directory. They rode the elevator up without anyone questioning them. They got off on their floor and walked down the hall to the commissioner’s office. Again, no one stopped or questioned them. They went into the reception area and the eyes of the secretary at the reception desk bulged at the invasion of Goths and Huns.
She was a well-dressed, young black woman and asked frostily, "May I help you?"
Beth smiled politely, "Yes. We’d like to see the commissioner, please."
"Do you have an appointment?"
"No. But it’s very important that we see him."
The secretary said patronizingly, "The commissioner is extremely busy and doesn’t see anyone without an appointment. I’ll give you his assistant’s phone number and you can call him for an appointment."
