Archiwum
- Index
- 02 opengl 3.2 szablon aplikacji OpenGL
- John DeChancie Castle 02 Castle for Rent
- Jay D. Blakeny The Sword, the Ring, and the Chalice 02 The Ring
- Celmer Michelle Królewskie zwišzki 02 Ksišżę i sekretarka (Goršcy Romans 893)
- Margit Sandemo Cykl Saga o czarnoksiężniku (02) Blask twoich oczu
- 115. Sherryl Woods Bogaci kawalerowie 02 Randka z przeznaczeniem
- Diana Palmer Big Spur,Texas 02 Passion Flower
- Johanna Lindsey Viking Family Tree 02 Hearts Aflame
- Carroll_Jonathan_ _Vincent_Ettrich_TOM_02_ _Szklana_zupa
- Christie_Agatha_ _Poirot_prowadzi_sledztwo_(SCAN dal_1128)
- zanotowane.pl
- doc.pisz.pl
- pdf.pisz.pl
- lafemka.pev.pl
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was working the reception desk today, and Mondays were always tough. More things seemed to happen
over the weekend than during the week-confrontations of all sorts, exploding out of pressure cookers
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that had been on low boil for weeks or months or even years. He could never understand it. Why such
things were so often done on a weekend was a mystery to him. He always thought a Friday would do
just as well, but maybe Weekends for the battered and abused wire bridges to the new beginnings that
Mondays finally required.
By the rime Ross reached the lobby, the voices had died away. Ire paused in the doorway and peeked
out guardedly. Della was bent close to a teenage girl who had collapsed in a chair to one side of the
reception desk and begun to cry. A younger girl was clinging tightly to one arm, tears streaking her face.
Della's hand was resting lightly on the older girl s shoulder, and she was speaking softly in her ear. Della
was a large woman with big hair, skin the color of milk chocolate, and a series of dresses that seemed to
come only in primary colors. She had both a law, gentle voice and a formidable stare, and she was adept
at bringing either to bear as the situation demanded. In this instance, she seemed to have abandoned the
latter in favor of the former, and already the older girl s sobs were fading. A handful of women and
children occupied chairs in other parts of the room. A few were looking over with a mix of curiosity and
sympathy. New arrivals, applying for a bed. When they saw Ross, the women went back to work on
their application forms and the children shifted their attention to him. He gave them a smile, and one little
girl smiled back.
There, now, you take your time, look it all over, fill out what you can, I ll help you with the rest Della
finished, straightening, taking her hand from the older girl s shoulder. That s right. I ll be right over here,
you just come on up when you re ready.
She moved back behind the desk, giving Ross a glance and a shrug and settling herself into place with a
sigh. Like all the frontdesk people, she was a trained professional with experience working intake. Della
had been at Fresh Start for something like five years, almost from its inception, according to Ray
Hapgood, so she had pretty much seen and heard it all.
Ross moved over to stand beside her, and she gave him a suspicious frown for his trouble.
You at loose ends, Mr. Speechwriter? Need something more to do, maybe?
I m depressed, and I need one of your smiles, he answered with a wink.
Shoo, what office you running for? she gave him a look, then gestured with her head. Little lady over
there, she s seventeen, says she s pregnant, says the father doesn t want her or the baby, doesn t want
nothing to do with none of it. Gangbanger or some such, just eighteen himself Other girl is her sister. Been
living wherever, the both of them. Runaways, street kids, babies making babies. Told her we could get
them a bed, but she had to see a doctor and if there were parents, they had to be notified. Course, she
doesn t want that, doesn t trust doctors, hates her parents, such as they are. Good Lord Almighty!
Ross nodded. You explain the reason for all this?
Della gave him the glare. Course I explained it! What you think I m doing here, anyway -just taking up
space? Who s been here longer, you or me?
Ross winced. Sorry I asked.
She punched him lightly on the arm. No, you ain t.
He glanced around the room. How many new beds have come in today?
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Seven. Not counting these. Delta shook her head ruefully. This keeps up, we re going to have to start
putting them up in your office, having them sleep on your floor. You mind stepping over a few babies and
mothers while you work-assuming you actually do any work while you re sitting back there?
He shrugged. Wall-to-wall homeless. Maybe I can put some of them to work writing for me. They
probably have better ideas about all this than I do.
They probably do. Delta was not going to cut him any slack. You on your way to somewhere or did
you just come out here to get underfoot?
I m on my way to get some coffee. Do you want some?
No, I don t. I got too much work to do. Unlike some I know. She returned to the paperwork on her
desk, dismissing him. Then she added, Course, if you brought me some-cream and sugar, please-I
guess Id drink it all right.
He went back down the hall to the elevator and pressed the button. The staff s coffee room was in the
basement along with a kitchen, storage roams for food and supplies, maintenance equipment, and the
water heaters and furnace. Space was at a premium. Fresh Start sheltered anywhere from a hundred and
fifty to two hundred women and children at any given time, all of them homeless, most of them abused.
Administrative offices and a firstaid room occupied the ground floor of the six-story building, and the top
five floors had been converted into a mix of dormitories and bedrooms. The second floor also housed a
dining hall that could seat up to a hundred people, which worked fine if everyone are in shifts. Just next
door, in the adjacent building, was Pass/Go, the alternative school for the children housed at Fresh Start.
The school served upward of sixty or seventy children most of the time. The Pass/Go staff numbered
twelve, the Fresh Start staff fifteen. Volunteers filled in the gaps.
No signs marked the location of the buildings or gave evidence of the nature of the work conducted
within. The buildings were drab and unremarkable and occupied space just east of Occidental Park in the
Pioneer Square district of Seattle. The International District lay just to the south above the Kingdome.
Downtown, with its hotels and skyscrapers and shopping, lay a dozen blocks north. Elliott Bay and the
waterfront lay west. Clients were plentiful; you could find them on the streets nearby, if you took the time
to look.
Fresh Start and Pass/Go were nonprofit corporations funded by Seattle Public Schools, various
charitable foundations, and private donations. Both organizations were the brainchild of one main--Simon
Lawrence.
John Ross looked down at his feet. Simon Lawrence. The Wizard of Oz. The man he was supposed to
kill in exactly two days, according to his dreams.
The elevator doors opened and he stepped in. There were stairs, but he still walked with difficulty, his
resignation from the
Word s service notwithstanding. He supposed he always would. It didn t seem fair he should remain
crippled after terminating his position, given that he had become crippled by accepting it, but he guessed
the Word didn t see matters that way- Life, after all, wasn t especially fair.
He smiled. He could joke about it now. His new life allowed for joking. He wasn t at the forefront of the
war against the creatures of the Void, wasn t striving any loner to prevent the destruction of humanity.
That was in the past, in a time when there was little to smile about and a great deal to fear. He had served
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