Out of the Rain by J. Malcolm Garcia

Author:J. Malcolm Garcia [J. Malcolm Garcia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: unemployment; recovery; addiction; literary; novel; poverty; housing justice; housing; Homeless Shelter; San Francisco; street lit; urban fiction; city life; fiction; literary fiction; urban books; novels; fiction books; literature; books fiction; realistic fiction books; urban; drugs; race; culture; mystery; essays; contemporary fiction; journalism; crime; americana; school; society; noir; sociology; writing; thriller; romance; drama; violence; 21st century; relationships; realistic fiction; suspense; love; crime fiction; internet; dark
ISBN: 9781644213872
Publisher: Seven Stories Press
Published: 2024-06-17T18:00:00+00:00

Katie

I clock in.

Hey, good-looking, Hank says.

He’s always hitting on me. He’s not handsy about it, just kind of flirty. Sometimes he’ll bump against me, but I don’t mind. I like him but not in that way. He knows. As long as he does, and he doesn’t get handsy, I’m OK with it.

He hands me a clipboard with a list of detox clients. It’s the first of the month. Everyone got their checks so most of our beds are empty. Beds. They’re actually exercise mats on the floor with a blanket and a sheet and a pillow. We had beds once, but clients pissed themselves and ruined the mattresses. So now we have mats.

Hank points out a guy on mat two. No name. A John Doe. Just came in, Hank says. Too drunk to do an intake. He doesn’t know him. Thought maybe I would. I take a look. Young. A pale red plaid shirt covers his thin chest. Strings of blond hair stick to his forehead. I don’t recognize him.

Hank wrote, “10:30 p.m.,” by the guy’s name, the time he checked him in. I start at eleven. I wonder if the guy had really been that drunk or if Hank just didn’t want to do the intake because it was so close to quitting time. Put him on a mat, leave the paperwork for me. He may dig on me but that don’t mean he’s not lazy. I give Hank a look

Don’t do me like that, Katie, he says. It ain’t about that. He was too drunk.

He goes on: One of our regulars, Walter Johns, asked for detox and told Hank that there was a man passed out on the sidewalk in front of Fresh Start. Walter didn’t know him. Hank did Walter’s intake and then went outside with a volunteer. The guy was laying on his back by a trash bin. Hank shouted at him and he kind of mumbled and rolled onto his side. Hank and the volunteer put on plastic gloves and lifted him up under the arms and half-carried, half-walked him inside. They put him on a mat to sleep it off.

Go over and look at him, Hank says. Maybe you know him.

I will. Can I have some coffee first?

Hank’s the super on the swing shift; I’m working the overnight shift. I’m in charge tonight because my super called in sick, so it’s just me and another guy, Joe, working. He’s what our boss, Tom, calls a paid intern. He’s a graduate student at the School of Social Work at San Francisco State University. In staff meetings, Tom talks about how we should all follow Joe’s example and go to school, get a college degree. I don’t know what Tom’s thinking. He’s not an alcoholic, that’s one thing. He started here years ago doing community service to work off parking tickets and got hired. He went back to school, graduated college. I was still a client then, but I remember staff complaining how Tom was getting promoted ahead of them because he had a degree and they didn’t.

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