Capturing Them

Chapter Fifty Four - Christmas Special

"Hello, Mr Blackbourne, Axel, thank you for offering your services again this year," a lady says, making her way towards us. She's wearing a white apron that's stained, with her hair in a messy bun and her face is clear of make up.

"Thank you for letting us help out. You know we enjoy doing so," Axel says.

"The more people to help out the merrier." She picks up a box from a nearby table. "Here are some aprons for you all. We'll be opening the doors in ten minutes." Her eyes go to Gabriel. "The sound system is set up in the corner by the tree and Uncle has already dropped of the food, a lot of it might I add."

"Perfect. Thanks, Alicia."

Alicia walks off with a smile and goes through a door, disappearing from our sight. My eyes go back to the tree. "Who are the presents from?" I ask.

"They're from of us—most of them anyway," Corey says, putting on an apron. Picking up another apron from the box, Corey holds it out to me and I take it from him with a smile.

When Alicia returns, she explains to us that we'll be serving the food. Each plate will have turkey with all the trimmings and that water, tea or coffee is available to chose for a beverage. When I ask why they're serving a dinner so early, the reply I get is because more will arrive by afternoon and each person is only entitled to one dinner.

When the doors open, I watch as the homeless start taking seats. A mother with two young children, an older man with haunted eyes, and a young boy that has bruises on his face. It hurts to see this.

Gabriel heads off to start playing some Christmas music through the speakers and I follow everyone else's lead. I hand out plates of food and ask what drink they would prefer. With each person I make contact with, I imagine what brought them to the here and now.

I reach the man with the haunted eyes. "Hi, sir, here is your food," I place the plate on the table—a plastic one mind you—and place his plastic knife and fork next to it. "What drink would you like?" I ask.

"Whiskey?" He asks, his eyes lifting to look up at my face.

"I'm sorry, the only drinks we offer are water, tea, or coffee."

"I know, Chica, I can hope though. Coffee please, black." I smile and go and collect him his coffee. When I return, I place it on the table. "Thanks. What's a young girl like yourself doing in a place like this?"

"Oh, I'm just helping out," I say. There's a seat free next to him so I sit down, thankful when he doesn't push me away. "What's a gentleman like yourself doing living like this?" I blurt out the question without thinking. I slap a palm to my head. "Oh, I'm sorry. Months ago I never spoke a word and now all I do is talk and blurt out things I probably shouldn't."

The man chuckles. "No problem, Chica." He pauses to take a drink of his coffee. His eyes, the colour of a grey blue ocean, focus on me. "War. It messed me up big time."

This man served our country and this is the life he lives? "I'm sorry," I whisper.

"Don't be sorry, Chica. Shit happens, right?"

The need to help him comes at me strong, but I don't know how. How do I help him and everyone else here? They don't deserve this life.

I get up from my seat and place my hand on the man's shoulder. I don't miss his flinch. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Child," he mumbles.

I walk away with a heavy heart and get on with serving out the plates. After a few minutes, Raven comes up to me and wraps an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into him. I clutch on to his apron and squeeze my eyes closed, keeping the tears at bay.