Meeting Herleva

       Katie had never seen so many people in one place in all her life. She held onto Brian’s hand so tightly that he suddenly cried out in pain.

    “Sorry!” Katie whispered at him, and he quickly looked at her face.  “No problem. It’s a mob scene in here, I know.”

       Katie was suddenly aware of an overpowering smell of – was it flowers?  There was a whish of someone’s skirt, and a large woman whisked past them, her arms outstretched.  Brian whispered into her ear, “One of mom’s volunteers.”

       “Long time no see!” warbled the big woman.

       “Barbara? Omigod –  I love your hair! I’m really, seriously envious!.”

       The woman called Barbara smiled and shook her head from side to side. As she did this, her hair moved as if it were composed of a single sheet of fabric. Katie watched in fascination: -- how did it do that? Brian tugged on her hand.

       “Come on before they notice us!” he whispered.

       They moved through what seemed to be a wall of people. So many smells, so many voices. Katie felt a little dizzy.

       “Let’s go see if we can find Henry, he’ll be in the dining hall.

       Brian pulled Katie through the crowd into another room, also packed with people. Nearly all of them were sitting down, though, and they looked different from the people in the first room. Some of them looked angry, some looked sad, and many looked as if they felt nothing particular at all. Most of them were sitting at long tables. Brian stood at the door scanning faces. “There he is!” he said.

       Henry was a scary-looking man with a bushy white beard and very little hair. He was wearing a grey sweatshirt with the sleeves rolled up, and his forearms were elaborately decorated with pictures of flowers, beautiful ladies and hearts with tiny swords going through them. Katie stared, fascinated.

       “Hey, Henry!” called Brian. Henry had been sitting in a chair against the wall, and Katie was sure he was asleep. He looked up when he heard Brian’s voice.

   “Hi, kid.”  His voice was gruff and low. “You serving again?” He grinned at Brian.

       “Um, well, no, not this time,’ said Brian. He turned to Katie, “I spilled some stuff last time…” he began to explain.

   Henry laughed. “Some stuff? Two loaded trays, it was! All over Mrs Foster’s shoes!”

   Brian smiled ruefully. “…and my mom says there are enough volunteers today, so this time we’re just here for the lunch.”

    Henry looked at him and raised an eyebrow. “You’re that hungry?”  He laughed. “Well, maybe you are. Never could get enough food back when I was your age, any kind of food. That was during the great Depression. You ever learn about that in school?” Katie studied Henry’s stringy, sun-reddened neck and bald freckled pate. Imagine him ever having been their age! 

        Henry cleared his throat and changed the subject. “How’re those bully-boys? Still bothering you?”

       Brian smiled. “Not so much now. You scared ‘em good, Henry.”

        “Lots of new faces today,” said Henry.  Kids too. I’d introduce you – ” he indicated a group of women sitting against the wall – “but...” – he made a quick motion for Brian to come closer, and then continued in a whisper, “They’re not real sociable.”

       Katie looked to see who he was talking about and suddenly met the eyes of a girl about her own age. The girl’s clothes were even worse than hers – just a mess of rags, practically. Her black hair was a frizzy and her skin was a dark brown color. She was sitting between two large blonde women, one old and one youngish. They both looked extremely ill-tempered.

        The girl stared back rudely. “What’re you looking at?” she hissed. Katie looked away, shocked by the girl’s rudeness.   

       Brian gave the girl a big smile. “I’m Brian,” he said, “And these are my friends Henry and Katie. What’s your name?”

       The girl looked at Brian in mock disbelief. “What’s it to you, stupid?”

       Brian shrugged. He did not seem the least bit fazed.  

       The girl continued to stare at Brian and Katie. She let out a grunt that was partly a laugh, then shook her head.  “Did your mommies bring you here to get you to eat your spinach? See what these poor people have to eat? Aren’t you glad we’re not poor? Maybe they’ll buy you some real food later.” The girl scuffed her dirty sneakers on the floor and wiped her nose on the back of her hand, staring at them defiantly. 

       All of a sudden there was a tremendous clatter as people came into the room with metal trolleys, and a wonderful smell began to fill the room. A man in a suit walked importantly up to the front of the room and stood behind a lectern. As the people with the food began to distribute it, the man introduced himself and began to talk. Katie soon lost interest. The people who had received their food were, for the most part, eating it and paying no attention whatsoever to the speaker. She and Brian found two chairs against the wall, next to the blonde women and the rude girl, who was now ignoring them.

       When their food arrived, Katie stared. It was like nothing she had ever seen. Even the dishes were exotic:  smooth, round, white plates and bowls.

       Katie picked up her spoon – it was cold to the touch and smaller than the wooden spoons they used at home – and began to eat. Balancing the tray on her knees was hard at first, but once Katie tasted the food, all the inconvenience and strangeness of the situation melted away. It was heavenly. There was a brown slab the same color as her mother’s roots, and chewy – but it tasted divine. Next to it was a cream-colored mound of something soft and fluffy that melted in her mouth; warm brown liquid spilled from its crater and ran all over her plate, but she sopped up every drop with the bread. The best thing, though, was a juicy, chewy nectar-flavored mound. Scraping the last morsels from her plate, Katie was nearly breathless with pleasure. Only when she had finished the last bite did she look up and see that Brian and the rude girl were staring at her.

       “I guess you were pretty hungry, huh?” said Brian. “Anyway, you spilled some gravy.” He pointed.

    Katie looked, and saw with dismay a long, brown stain that ran down the front of her dress. She was appalled. She had never worn this dress before today: it had probably been in the last bag of clothes her mother had brought home. Katie did not know where these clothes came from, but when she outgrew things, her mother would bring home a large bag of clothes, clothes that were rather old and worn, but still serviceable. This one was a beige dress with a collar that was almost white and – up until now – without any obvious stains.

       “Oh dear,” she said, “this is my nicest thing. My mother will be so angry…”.  Her voice trailed off, as she finished the sentence. What she’d said was silly.  Her mother would not be angry about the dress; she probably wouldn’t even notice the stain. But she had learned from Brian that “My mother will be so angry” was the sort of thing you said when you got your backpack caught on a fence and ripped it, or stepped into a mud puddle with new white sneakers.

       The rude girl was still staring at her. Her own tray was virtually untouched.

       “You want my food?” she said. Katie could not believe her ears.

       “Oh – yes! I mean…are you sure? You aren’t –  hungry?”

       The girl shook her head. She continued to stare at Katie. “No, no – we’ll be passing a dumpster on the way home…” She exchanged trays with Katie.

       Katie managed to finish all of the girl’s food, but it took her a little longer, as she was now quite full. As she ate, she listened to Brian and the girl talking.

       “So I guess…are you all homeless too…?

       “No, my mom works here. Katie’s my friend.”

       “Oh, okay. But her – is she homeless?” She pointed her chin at Katie.

       “No, she has a place to live…”

       The girl continued to stare at them.  “You go to school?”

       “Yeah,” said Brian. “Fairgrove. How about you?”

       “Did, but I don’t now.…” her voice trailed off.  She gestured at the younger of the blonde women, who had traded places with her earlier. “That’s my mom.”

       “Where’d you go to school before?”

       “California.”

       “Cool!” said Brian, impressed. The girl shrugged.

       “How was that, then?”

       “Okay.”  She was staring at Katie, frowning.

       Brian tried again. “Where’d you stay in California?”

       “Foster home.”

       “Must be great not having to go to school” said Brian a little desperately.

       “Yeah” said the girl, with no enthusiasm.

       Volunteers were now collecting empty trays.  The woman who took their trays lifted her eyebrow at Brian when she saw how little he had eaten, but beamed approvingly at the two trays Katie had all but licked clean.

       ”That’s what I call an appetite. But after all, you’re growing girls! Would you like some more?”

       “No,” replied the brown girl ungraciously.  There was an uncomfortable pause, then the eldest of the large blonde women who had been quarreling suddenly turned to the girl and bellowed out “You mind your manners!”  It was odd, thought Katie, that two people with such terrible manners should make such a show over correcting someone else’s.

       One of the volunteers suddenly stopped in front of Brian and smiled. “Hello!” she said brightly. “Brian, right?’  Brian nodded, but when the tray-collectors had left, he heaved a dramatic sigh of relief.

       “Glad she’s gone.”

       Henry grinned. “Why?”

       “She’s obnoxious. Besides, her kid’s in my class. He’s a total jerk.

       “One of the bully boys?” asked Henry.

       “No, he’s just a jerk. He’s the kind of kid that, if you screw up, like if you drop the ball in volleyball or don’t catch it when you’re supposed to, he’ll come up and clap you on the back if he’s on the other team and say ‘Nice goin’ man,’ or ‘Brian! We owe you!’ But if he’s on your team, he never lets you forget it.” Brian scowled.

       Henry laughed. “Me, when I was a kid, I just beat kids like that up and I never had any trouble with them afterwards.”

       “Yeah, well, number one I’m a wimp, and number two, my mom wouldn’t let me even if I could.”

       “Kid like that, scruples are wasted on him,” said Henry. “You take my advice:  beat the pulp out of him. You’ll feel better even if his manners don’t improve. And who says you’re a wimp?”

       “Well, he does, for one.”

       The brown girl had followed their conversation with interest and looked like she was about to say something when her mother and her older companion suddenly stood up and announced that they were leaving. Wordlessly, the girl stood up and waited for her mother to get her belongings – several blankets and some extremely filthy clothes stuffed into a torn canvas bag. Katie studied the girl. She didn’t look a bit like her mother, either: although the girl was tall, dark and large-boned with a wild tangle of black hair, the mother was short with sunburned pink skin and a mess of tired blonde hair.

      After the girl and women left, Brian’s mother came out of the kitchen to collect them.

       “Well,” she asked when they were outside, “how was it?” She grinned. “Bet you’re hungry.

       “I am,” replied Brian, “but Katie isn’t. She ate two trays of food.”

       Brian’s mother turned around to look at Katie in surprise.

       “Did you really?”

       “Yes,” said Katie shyly. Why did Brian make such a big fuss over it?

       Brian’s mother shook her head. “Well! You must be one heck of an easy kid to raise!” She looked at Brian speculatively. “Think maybe Katie’s mom could knock some sense into you? Get you to eat two tray’s worth of our grub?” Brian scowled and his mother laughed.

       Katie was perplexed. “I didn’t eat the food because I thought I ought to. I ate it because it tasted good.”