MELODY (Book 1) ✓

chapter 2 ( Some Hope)

The shelter had made it clear about the rules when I'd first joined their program:
Hunt for a job. Keep your job. Stay out of trouble. Don't break curfew. That's how you keep your room in 'Hope House' and stay on their three years transitional program. No job means no program. No program means no place for you. You get discharged, and you're totally on your own.

Being on my own after aging out of foster care wasn't exactly fun. I'd been trying hard to manage my own life for months. I'd never had to do this before. Social services, foster homes, and my caseworker used to manage my life for me since I was four.

Now the shelter partially did the same with much less interference. You're given the chance to have free meals and a bed at night, until you get work, save money, go to school or just rent your own place and get the hell out of there. That was the idea of a 'youth transition program' any way: help you move gradually from being a ward of the state to being an independent adult.

Well, here's this little thing I discovered: Adulthood was overrated. Childhood and adolescence as a foster kid weren't that jolly either. So to sum it up: life sucks.

"I have no idea what to do," I finally admitted, wiping my tears and holding myself as I looked at Lisa.

She had this look of pity I often loathed all my life, but I knew at least she was sincere. She had a sixteen year old daughter, a few years younger than me. It was the mother in her that took pity on me, I guess.

Growing up without a real mother taught me to appreciate her compassion. Any genuine kind of affection, really. Real affection was rare in my life, so I almost threw myself in her arms and blubbered like a baby.

"I'll try to talk to him. Maybe when he..." Lisa said.

"No, Lisa, please," I interrupted with a strained voice, shaking my head. I looked at my hands in my lap, "I don't want you to get into trouble. "

I got up feeling so drained. I honestly didn't want to go back to the shelter now and spend all day, doing nothing but being the subject of the residents' gossip. It would be obvious I lost my job.

She stared at me with a soft motherly look."Don't be so sad, chica. You'll find better work."

"Thank you," I mumbled. It was touching how she wanted to comfort me when I really needed it.

"Wait a minute." She tapped at my shoulder, her eyes suddenly bright "I saw this 'Help Wanted' poster in this little café on 75th and Broadway..." She gave me the address. It was about a 30 minute walk from here.

"I don't know. Does it say 'clumsy waitress wanted'?" I tried to smile.

"Just go find out, chica, you're going to be fine," Lisa encouraged, squeezing my arm.

"Thank you. I'll try," I murmured, and then leaned to hug her. I thought she wouldn't mind. I didn't normally do this with anyone, but I needed it.

She laughed and wrapped her arms tightly around me. "Don't forget me when you're rich and famous, Okay?"

"Never," I said, trying to swallow back the fresh tears as I embraced Lisa.

God, why am I always a mess? Please stop being so emotional!

"Buena chica. Now get your paycheck from this bozo and any bonus you can get your hands on." She winked mischievously.

"Bonus?"

"He made you pay for a wrong order. Take something instead." She pursed her lips, thoughtfully. "Maybe a free meal. It's lunch hour already. "

"Oh no, I really shouldn't..." I shook my head, my eyes wide.

"Yes, you should! He was mean!  He fired you at lunch time. At least take some pastries. They go to waste any way." She waved her hand dismissively.

I frowned, chewing my lip. My former boss, Mr. Valente, allowed us to have free meals only on the premises, and only from the food that sells the least, so he didn't have to throw it away. The problem was that I was no longer a worker here. It felt like stealing.

"Come on, it feels good to get even," Lisa went on. "You'll just take back what he cut down from your check. Nothing wrong with that."

She didn't give me a minute to reply. She suddenly gripped my shoulders, telling me to "stay right here," and disappeared outside.

Reluctantly, I waited for her, biting my thumb. Her words about 'getting even' ringing in my head and I felt guilty for considering it. Injustice is frustrating, but I wasn't sure we had the right to enforce justice ourselves.

A minute later, I started fidgeting. I seriously thought for a moment to just get out of here without even getting my wages. Just then, Lisa reappeared with a triumphant smile on her round face, sneaking in with a large paper bag in her hand.

"Take it," she insisted, pushing the bag towards me. "Go get your paycheck, chica, and give me a hug I gotta go back to work."

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