When god close a door, rest assured he will open another door for you.
It took only two weeks for someone to try and rob me. A young man, desperate enough to try to rob food.
I could see the fear in his eyes, or at least I believe it was fear. Robotic eyes are hard to read. He was trembling so it was either fear or excitement.
I did not yell, nor did I put my hands down I smiled and invited him to eat at my table. No man should feel hunger when it is so easy to procure. He did not stop pointing his gun at me but tensed. He did not know what to do.
He yelled something in … Spanish? Italian? I'm not used to others languages.
A child, terrorized came in. Ha... an older brother trying to take care of his family.
He kept his gun up, I moved slowly and invited them to follow me. I had nothing of value and they needed to eat more than anything. The oldest sat at the table but kept me in his line of sight while the youngest, still full of fear looked around curiously and discreetly.
I am not a good cook, never was but I knew enough to feed them properly. They ate silently while I sat in the couch. I found this couch near a dumpster, it was old and used but the trashes of some are the treasures of others. I managed to buy a bible from a store. Said store also sold sex toys. I privately found it funny.
When they finished eating, I could see the youngest trying to stay awake. I told the oldest to put him in my bedroom, he frowned but did so and came back in the living room, to keep an eye on me.
He did not talk, so I did. I talked about my family, my life, anything. He did not listen at first but I could see a smile form on his face as minutes passed.
And so he told me his story.
A young man, Jose, grew up as the son of a prostitute or "dolls", he did not have a good home life. When his younger brother was born, a gang called the scavenger came a killed his mother to harvest her body.
He did as he could to take care of his brother but the street is not a nice place for teenagers and children. He managed to get some work from time to time but it was getting harder as an other gang, the valentinos, did not take kindly to anyone working without paying their due in their territory.
He was crying by the time his tale finished, so I lent him a shoulder to cry on. I did not understand what he endured, I never lived it but I could try and help.
I offered him the second floor to live in and a job as my shop guardian. An honest job for an honest life.
He wasn't trusting me fully but he accepted anyway. It was a chance for him to provide for his brother and have a better place to live. Anything was better than the street in night city.
After a week of living together, I could say they trusted me, or at least were starting to. Jose took his job as a guard seriously, he would sit in a corner of the shop with a clear view of anyone entering and his gun ready in his hand. His little brother, Sergio, helped me take care of the garden and put on the wares. From time to time, young people would come for food or clear water, my shop gained a reputation of helping the unfortunate. Thanks to the two I took in I guess.
When people heard I had a small church in "my" shop, more people came, some to pray, other to ask for help and advises. I believe it's called the butterfly effect? Or maybe it is just that no act of kindness remain unpunished.
Most called me "father" and I think it may be because of one of my client with French ancestry "mon père".
Every Sunday I would give a mass. It was short but I believe it helped.
After a while, I saw this old man, my age or more, come to the mass. He was a pious man, or stylish, always wearing a cross as a necklace. We talked a bit, He was called sebastian and I enjoyed our conversation.
Jose was joined by other young men and women, it was good to see him smile as the teenage man he was. They started a "group" and called them them "the familia". I found it amusing how he thought I did not know what he was doing. Little Sergio was slowly but surely coming out of his shell.
Our neighbors were mostly nice people and the older ladies found him adorable.
I had to make the garden bigger as more and more people were coming to buy and I now had two child to take care of and a few "friend" that often came to visit.
Chief among them, Alejandra Welles. She would often come with her son. Her son was hot headed, stubborn but loyal to a fault. Young Jackie more often than not would leave to talk with Jose. Alejandra would just stay and talk. She was a strong woman with a will even stronger.
She told me how her last husband hurt her and how young Jackie took care of him. I let her talk, vent her anger, her frustration about Jackie wishing to join the valentinos, her fear for his wellbeing.
Sebastian was the same. And now that I think about it a lot of people came to talk to me and vent their mistake and fear. I, I opened a confessional without meaning to?
Either way, it helped them, or I like to believe it did.
Sometime people need someone to just listen, to hear them. They don't need someone to tell them how to feel or react.
My shop became some kind of meeting place, I allowed people to walk around the garden to think and always let the fourth floor accessible to anyone.
When I closed my eyes I did not expect this but if I can help even one person, it would be worth it.