OK, it’s November so the theme is going to be, big surprise, Thanksgiving. Here’s the first offering in my Month of Thanksgiving stories.

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It’s A Good Life

Melinda Evans hustled out of the Co-op market, her shopping bags full of locally grown free range turkey, two dozen eggs, and organic potatoes, carrots and heavy cream. It was the last of her shopping for Thanksgiving dinner.

She crossed the street at the corner. On the other side, she passed a man bundled in shabby clothing sitting on a piece of cardboard around the corner from the bank entrance. His position put him in the shade but out of the chill November wind. He had a cracked plastic bowl in front of him with a few coins and a lonely dollar bill in it.

Melinda shook her head. She’d grown up in this town and there were never beggars on the street when she was younger. She glanced down the street to the old police station. It was a restaurant now. This guy would never have dared to set up right on Main Street when the station was here. She sniffed. Probably drunk, too, she thought, and it’s only 10:30 in the morning.

He pulled his feet in as she went by.

At the car she piled her bags into the back of her Jeep, thinking about the man on the corner. After she shut the cargo door, she pulled her coat tighter around her. Even in the sun the wind cut right through her.

She got in and started the car. The heater was already on and began blowing hot air out of the vents. She held her hands in the flow of warm air, rubbing them together. I wonder where that man sleeps? she thought. Does he have a way to cook meals?Is there somewhere in town for him to buy dinner on Thanksgiving? Oh, yeah, the Mt. Carmel church does a free dinner. She felt a little better as she put the car in gear and backed out of the parking spot.

She drove past the man on her way out of town. His arms were wrapped tightly around his body, trying to stay warm. The sight nagged at her until at the city limits sign she made up her mind. She made the next right and circled around the block, then drove back to the parking lot. She pulled her purse out of the back seat and got out of the car.

The man, younger than she expected now that she really looked at him, peered up at her from under the brim of a ball cap.

“Here,” she said as she held out a ten dollar bill. “For Thanksgiving.”

Looking wary, the man pulled his hand out from under his armpit and took the offered bill. “Thank you.”

Melinda hesitated there in front of him. This didn’t seem like enough. “Do you have a place to stay where it’s warm?”

He put the money in his pants pocket then tucked his hand back under his arm. “Yes’m. The old YMCA has a room for me.”

She nodded. At least he was out of the weather.

“That’s what the money is for,” he glanced at the bowl. “To pay my rent.”

A gust of wind blew around the corner of the building. She pulled her coat tighter. There wasn’t anything else she could do here. “Have a good Thanksgiving then,” she said and turned away.

On the ride home she thought about her life. How comfortable she and her family were. She had a nice home, food on the table, warm clothes. It’s not right, she thought. I have everything I need and others have so little.

She unpacked the food and put it all in the fridge, the man on the corner still in her mind. The telephone on the wall drew her attention. She stood in front of the counter, staring at it, drumming her fingers until she made a decision. Opening the drawer, she pulled out the phone book.

Melinda ran her finger down the page until she found the number. She dialed and waited for an answer. “Hello? I’m Melinda Evans. I’d like to volunteer to help at the Thanksgiving dinner.”

The End

680 Words

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