So... can I start out by saying that I totally love all you folks who read the first chapter and began sending me reviews and private messages and all kinds of love and encouragement behind this story. As I've told you all, I hope not to disappoint. Remember, my inbox is always open and I hope to hear from some or all of you again. :)
The Reactions
Sam was grateful that Mercedes could not see him eat, but the damned dog made him nervous, staring at him, cautiously the entire time that he was shoveling the meal into his mouth, hunched over his plate. Mercedes was enjoying a simple order of tots and an herbal tea, while running her fingers over what looked like blank pages to Sam. He never knew anyone blind before, but could have sworn that he heard somewhere that they had their own alphabet. She giggled and shook her head at something that she read with her hands, but did not comment on what was amusing.
After that, she decided it was best that Sam wash up and throw on something else. She thought she might have something around her shop, as she had several friends who left donations for the different charities she involved herself with. He found a pair of jeans and a t-shirt that could fit, but it made him more self conscious, as it revealed even more of his body art. "No fear!" She cheered, having been reading The Chronicles of Narnia… "We'll have you in something else, pretty soon."
When he emerged from the shower in the backroom, in which he would be bunking, there were customers in the place. He was shocked to see Mercedes easily navigating the place as she talked cheerily to people. He saw a blonde woman behind the counter, showing off a particular product, and it occurred to him that he didn't even know what kind of a place this was. It had all kinds of knickknacks, antiques and various items. "Can I help you," the blonde's rich voice asked him and he looked over to see that she had made her way next to him.
"Is Mercedes busy?" He asked, a bit alarmed by how pretty the woman was. She smiled at him and her blue eyes were twinkling, a little. God, she was amazing!
"She is. I'm her store manager. Perhaps I can help you, Sir," she said.
"She hired me earlier for…" the smile quickly left her face and he stopped talking. "Should I go find her?"
"No," she said. Her entire countenance had changed and her eyes were on his visible tattoos, "Do you have a sweater?"
"Mercedes and I were going to go buy something to…" She grabbed his arm and pulled him into the stock room, where she dug through some things until she found a roll of bandage in the first aid kit. "Please cover that filth so that you don't offend the customers. Then, I have a list of projects for you." She reached into her half-apron and withdrew a pad, which she held out to him. "If you have any questions, come to see me. I'm Miss Fabray. Our buyer and dealer, Santana, is also in the building today."
"So, it's the three of you who work here?"
"It's two of us who work here – Santana and I. Miss Jones is the owner. She pays us to do the work," Miss Fabray said and turned to head back to the floor.
"Oh, what kind of business is this?" He asked.
"Obviously, it's a gift shop," she said, then disappeared from the stock room. Sam sighed and looked at the list of projects. He didn't even know where most of these areas were, but he'd already rubbed that Fabray the wrong way, unintentionally and didn't want to ask her anything else. He shoved the notepad into his pocket and began to try to wrap his arms up with the beige bandage.
It wasn't very successful and he had no idea how long he had been at it when he heard Mercedes say, "One perk of being blind is that you never have to worry about seeing someone naked, which I am told is obviously embarrassing. Are you alright, in there?" she called towards the backroom (which was on the other side of the stock room.)
"I am actually right here, in the stock room. Miss Fabray wanted me to wrap my arms up so that the customers wouldn't see my tattoos, but I'm having no such luck." He chuckled at himself.
"We should really get going to the store for your new clothes, then." She headed out of the stock room and called, "Kissy, purse." The dog dutifully came and Sam followed her out of the shop. Her cell began to ring in her purse and she reached inside, to exactly the spot that she had to place it and answered it, "I'm stepping out for a moment, Quinn."
"Mercedes, I have to object," the blond said and Sam looked inside and saw her watching them from the counter. He realized that she was on the phone, though he didn't know what she was saying, "Mercedes, that guy was on the news. He was released on parole after serving only seven years for participating in beating a black family to death with other useless jerks."
Mercedes paused and felt a catch in her throat, but continued walking and told her store manager, "We'll discuss things later." She hung up and put her phone away. It was broad daylight, they were out in the public, she had her dog and she knew exactly where she was going. He wouldn't be able to do her any harm if he even wanted to. "So, Sam Evans, tell me about yourself," she said. "It can be like a post hire interview. What were you inside for?"
He put his head down and answered, "Accessory to murder. I was sixteen at the time and with older guys who all had criminal records, already. I was charged as an adult, and sentenced to fifty years, up for parole in five." He took a deep breath and said, "I was there, but I hardly participated. I know that's still not good. They had a son, about my age and I hit him a couple of times, but I didn't kill him and I didn't hit anyone else. I got into fights a lot. I liked to fight. Beating up on people who couldn't defend themselves wasn't really my thing."
"How many people did your friends kill?" She asked.
"It was a family of five," he said as he shoved his hands into his pockets. "The youngest girl was just a kid. She couldn't have been any older than six or seven. I wanted them to let her go, but after a while, I thought – she'd be better off, after all of that, just dying. I know, that isn't really my choice to make and it wasn't that night, either." He sighed and said, "I can never take back the fact that I was a part of something like that. All that I can do now is work towards having a different future."
Mercedes said, "Well, Sam Evans – that is quite a past to get over. Have you ever read the book of Acts, in the Bible?"
"I read the Bible from cover to cover, when I was inside – but I don't have it memorized, or anything," he answered, truthfully.
"In the book of Acts, the guy who ends up turning into the apostle Paul is this complete douche named Saul. He's riding all over the land, getting decrees and stuff to round Christians up and arrest them, and persecute them and put them to death. Then, he sees Jesus on the way to do this and Jesus blinds him and makes him see the err of his ways. But, through the process, God sends a Christian to help Saul and to nurse him until he's able to do what God has for him to do." Sam stared at her as her smile brightened, "And of course, I would remember the story about the temporarily blind guy, but I say that just to say this, Sam… If there has really been a change in you, I'm just going to follow the Christian example and help nurse you into the man that God has for you to be."
They paused at the corner of a street and she continued, "The Christians had no idea that this guy was really changed. They just trusted God to take care of them as they did what was best for him, until he had the chance to prove himself as a child of God." Sam pressed his hand to the small of her back to prompt her to walk, which temporarily silenced her, but she finished her thought, "I am going to trust in God to work in you and in the meantime, do what I can to help you out."
"Thank you, Mercedes," he said, sincerely.
Sam looked at the outside of the building and saw The Magic Mirror in bold letters. She took him to a place that specialized in custom clothing and fabric. It was like a clothes store, formals place, but also with interior design stuff and Sam had never seen anything like it, but it looked fancy. Mercedes dragged him out into an open area and listened around for a familiar voice. "Cedes!" a voice called. Sam turned to face the woman it belonged to, and saw not a woman, but a male… a homo male, clearly.
Mercedes hugged and kissed her friend in greeting and immediately said, "I need a makeover for a new friend," and gestured to Sam. Sam uncomfortably nodded his head and tried not to cringe when the guy held out his hand to shake. The gentleman noticed, but continued, at any rate. "Well, she's brought you to the right place! I am Kurt Hummel. I'll assist you in finding the new you. When you look in the mirror, you will be the fairest of them all."
"I just need clothes that fit and will cover up the tats. I don't need anything fancy," Sam said.
Mercedes laughed and told him, "I was just joking about taking it out of your first check, Sam. I can do it in installments, if you can't accept a nice gift. You don't want to just wear anything, especially if you plan on actually trying to find a better job than what I have to offer. Kurt is the most fashionable person in town." Sam looked at Kurt's outfit, from head to toe and determined that he didn't need Kurt's "fashion."
"Don't worry!" Kurt said, noticing Sam's expression, right away. "You'll never look like me." He gave him a wincing smile and explained, "I fit the fashion to the individual. This…" he ran a single, elegant hand down the length of his own outfit, "Is me." He placed his hands behind his back and said, "And I shall help you find whoever you are." He turned away to quickly retrieve a clipboard and some measuring tape. "I exist to make other s the most beautiful them that they can be. First, we'll just take your measurements…"
"Sam?" Mercedes said and he looked down to see that he had grabbed her tightly and pressed her closely in front of him, like a shield. Her eyes were darting side to side in confusion. Was something dangerous there? Was she being threatened? Was he? He backed away, slightly, but didn't let go. It took her a moment, but when no clear danger sounded and she noticed that Kurt was not coming any closer, she guessed it. "God, Sam. Calm down. You aren't even his type and he's happily involved, anyway."
Kurt shrugged his shoulders and said, "It's a common heterosexual misconception that every homosexual wants you. I assure you, I do this all day long and no one comes out of it gay. Doesn't rub off, Mr. Sam." He came forward with the measuring tape and Sam stepped back again and pulled Mercedes with him.
He whispered, "I appreciate everything that you're trying to do for me, and if I have to, I'll pay you back for lunch, but I can't let some fag put his hands on me."
"Not at all a homophobic slur," Kurt said, and slammed the measuring tape into Mercedes hand, "Tina will be done with her customer in a moment."
"Apologize for saying that," Mercedes ordered.
"For saying that I don't want a man touching me?" Sam asked, his face distorted.
"Had you said that, it still would've been ignorant, but not nearly as hateful," she said. "You called him out of his name, and one of the ugliest names that ignorant people have to call people like him to try to make themselves seem better."
"Oh, I'm sorry," Sam said, honestly. "I didn't mean to say that. I just don't know any queer people. I'm not familiar with…" Noticing their faces, he asked, "Was that wrong, too?"
"I've heard it said with affection, but coming from you, it didn't compute that way," Kurt said. "How about we just drop labels and titles? It would be completely unprofessional of me to call you a redneck, would it not? You're a man. I'm a man. I just happen to be a man who likes men, and that has nothing to do with our transaction. I'm trying to help Mercedes help you look like a decent human being, instead of the person that she brought in with her." Kurt wanted to call him something ugly, but he hated the thought of stooping to that bastard's level. Oh great! Tina was done! "Tina!" He called as she almost nearly passed them up.
She smiled at him and raised her eyebrows at Sam. Kurt frowned. He knew that look. Tina had no intention of getting involved in whatever she saw before her. "Mercedes, you look amazing today!" She cheered and greeted her with a hug. "But, I think you brought the trash in with you," Tina whispered. Of course, they heard her.
"Tina," both Kurt and Mercedes said.
Tina shrugged with a smile and began to leave them. Mercedes asked, "Could you just do his measurements for us." Mercedes poked her full lips out in a pout and waved the measuring tape around I the air.
"I could. But I won't." She answered and continued to the counter near them to begin to enter something into the computer.
"Tina…" Mercedes tried, but Tina cut her off.
"I reserve the right to refuse anyone service, and I am exercising that right," she said.
Mercedes went to the counter, with Kissy and offered to Tina, "I know that he probably looks a bit rough, but his past is in the past and he's trying to get his life back on track…"
"Really? Then why isn't he letting Kurt take his measurements? Mercedes, he isn't the first man that I've seen like him. They don't change. They never do. They can't, in fact. It is as ingrained in them to be who they are as it is for us to be who we are. Besides, why should my touching him be any different?" Then, to Sam, she asked, "I mean, all of us are inferior to you and trying to take your country, right?"
"No…" Sam said. He approached the counter and Tina reached beneath it. He paused. She was either reaching for a weapon or an alarm. Either way, he kept his distance. "I wouldn't want any man touching me, right now. Mercedes…" When he came to Mercedes, Tina groaned and left for the counter on the far side of the store. He explained, "I've just come out of prison. I don't want to go into detail, but… look, thanks for trying to help."
"If you walk away right now, I may not be so nice tomorrow." She still had the measuring tape in her hands. "I'll do it," she said. "Kurt?"
"I'm still here, Love." Kurt walked Mercedes through measuring Sam, but when it was time to get his inseam, he froze and held his breath. Mercedes seemed oblivious to the proximity of her hands and the affect it was having, but Kurt had no trouble in noticing the glorious erection. If Sam was someone else, he might have been absolutely gorgeous. Kurt frowned. Such a waste. She finished up as Kurt wrote down the last measurements, pointed across the building, then said, "The bathroom is in the back, if you need to be excused." Sam nodded once and rushed off.
"What. The. Hell, Mercedes?" Kurt asked as soon as he was out of earshot.
She answered, "I felt bad for him. He was starving and dirty and homeless."
"Was? Mercedes… tell me that homophobic racist is not going to be staying with you!"
"Not exactly," she said. "He'll be in the backroom of the shop."
"That is literally downstairs of where you sleep, and it is also with access to all of the merchandise that you own. Mercy!" Kurt pleaded, but her mind was made up.
"I have insurance on everything in the place, and he will be locked out of my apartment. This is almost literally equivalent of letting someone sleep in your garage…"
"What the hell, Mercedes?" Tina asked as she walked up to them. "Where did he go?"
Kurt waved a hand said, "He copped a field and went to go rub one out, real quick." Mercedes made a disbelieving face, at no one in particular.
Tina looked disgusted, "Mercedes, what is it with you and taking in these strays?" Tina folded her arms and added, "This time, your priorities are completely out of whack. The guy is a terrorist, Mercedes. People like him terrorize people like us – like all of us. Like all of your friends. Mike and I – the Asians, Blaine and Kurt, the gays, Santana – the Latina, Puck – the Jew. Hell, the only friend you have that might not be in danger is Quinn, and he'd probably consider her a race-traitor."
"Tina, I understand. I know that you think that because I can't see him that I don't understand, but trust me, I understand. I hear people say more about me than you'll ever hear them say about you. It's not like us to leave people out, though."
"At least put him up at Emma's Bed and Breafast." Kurt said.
Tina snapped, "Where the hell is she currently putting him up?"
"The backroom," Kurt said.
Tina argued, dramatically, "Mercedes, hell no! What if he sneaks upstairs and rapes you in your sleep? Women of color are objects to men like that."
"Even if he wanted to, he won't be able to. My apartment will be locked, and Cluster is always on duty. Sam's been very gentle and polite the entire time I've been around him."
"Sure, right now – he needs some help, but as far as he's concerned, you owe it to him to help him out and once he's back on his feet, he will not think anything of you. You aren't even a real person to him, Mercedes."
"That isn't true," she heard Sam say. He appeared to the others from behind a clothes rack, explaining, "I had trouble finding my way back, but I was back in time enough to hear you say that. Tina, I can't make you trust me, but I am going to prove to you that I am not the person that I look like."
With a shake of her head, Tina let him know, "You don't have to prove anything to me. Just know this – whatever your intentions, if you hurt this woman, she has plenty of friends. We will be watching out for her." She gathered up her items once more and clacked away on frustrated heels.
Mercedes already had something to do planned, so she had to leave him at the Magic Mirror after a while, but promised that she would be at the shop when he came back. Sam stared at himself in the mirror of the store, wearing a pair of nice dark jeans and a slightly tight fitting turtleneck. Kurt told him it brought the green out in his eyes – which just made his skin crawl to hear. But, he ordered several of them in a variety of colors, and other such shirts and tops to cover himself up, gracefully. Kurt would deliver the remainder of Sam's clothes to Mercedes' place. Sam left to return to the place that he would now be able to call work.