Maddie's Place

Maddie stood in the tiny studio apartment. It was empty. She called out, "hello?"

"Hello," a faint echo returned her call.

She walked around slowly, examining every detail, the chipped window sill in the kitchen, the freshly cleaned stove and fridge, the smell of fresh paint. She turned to the building manager and nodded, "I hope cash is okay, I haven't been to the bank yet." She pulled a wad of bills from her bag, counting slowly.

He nodded, "they say cash is king," he smiled widely, took the money and handed her the keys to her new place.

173 Mitchell Street, apartment 4. It sounded good, Maddie thought, A nice address. She poked her head out the window and waved to the 2 young men waiting by an old blue truck. They waved back and began bringing in her belongings.

It didn't take long. Her worldy possessions consisted of a tattered plaid couch, a mattress, two folding chairs, a card table and a couple of garbage bags full of clothing, toiletries and a few linens. She offered a couple of bills to one of the men. He waved it off and left her to get settled.

Maddie sat on the sofa, tucking her slender legs underneath her. This felt good, she thought, her very first apartment. She was overcome with excitement. Trembling, from the inside out, tears began to stream down her face as she thought about how far she'd come.

Ten months ago, her life was so different. Homeless, and hungry, she found herself behind Jennie's Bakery, digging through the dumpster for something, anything, that might be edible. She snatched a piece of german chocolate cake, still sitting in a plastic take out container and stuffed half of it in her mouth. It was the first thing she'd eaten all day, and it tasted like heaven.

She was still chewing when she was caught. A large, tall, woman, with unusually broad shoulders hollered, "hey, what are you doing!"

She couldn't answer, her mouth was full. She dropped the cake and ran, the woman calling after her. She didn't get far, the woman chased her into an alley. Maddie giggled softly as she remembered. She still had no idea how a woman that size could run so fast.

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

Maddie stared wide-eyed at the massive woman. She reached into her pocket for a weapon. She didn't have anything, she was just hoping the motion would be enough to make this beast of a female back off. "I'm not stealin', it was in the garbage," she yelled.

The woman took a step toward her and lowered her voice, "are you hungry?" she asked.

Maddie stared hard at the woman, "no, I'm not hungry, I do my grocery shopping in garbages, I prefer the smell and taste," she thought to herself at the stupid question.

As if reading her mind, the large lady chuckled, "sorry, that's a dumb question, of course you're hungry." She looked Maddie up and down. Her skirt and thin jacket were barely able to hold to her thin frame. Her auburn hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail. She was pretty, or she could be, if she were tidied up. She looked, to the woman, to be 25, maybe 27, but it was hard to tell. Life on the streets, she knew, could add years to a face in a matter of months. "Why don't you come back and I'll make you a sandwhich?" she offered, "something proper to eat."

"Maddie backed into the brick wall behind her, "I don't take hand outs, I'm no bum!" She straightened herself to her full 5'7" to demonstrate her residual pride despite her circumstances.

The woman's brown eyes danced, as if she were amused, "of course not." She shrugged her wide shoulders, "can't sell 'em tomorrow, you can wait till I toss 'em in the dumpster, if that suits ya," she turned away, then looked back over her shoulder, "I'm Jennie, by the way."

There was something in the woman's voice, a kindness. Maddie shuffled from one foot to the other, "I'm Maddie," she replied, "but, like I said, I ain't no bum."

Jennie smiled, "yeah, me either," she turned back to face her.

Maddie peered at Jennie, wondering what she meant by that. She knew she wasn't a bum, she was THE Jennie, from Jennie's Bakery, the most successful bakery in town.

Jennie continued, "20 years ago, I was on the street. Had noone, nothing." She took a couple of steps toward Maddie, "come on back for something to eat, and I'll tell you about it." She could see something in the disheveled girl, something very familiar.

"How you know I'm not gonna rob you, or kill you?" Maddie demanded.

Jennie took another step, "because, you'd have done that already."

The woman had a point, and Maddie had to admit, a decent meal would be a welcome treat. She felt almost sick from the sugar rush the cake, on an empty stomach had given her. "Okay," she agreed, but I still ain't no bum."

Jennie agreed, and led her back to the bakery. They chatted, cautiously at first, then more amicably. Maddie learned that Jennie's past had been much like the life she was experiencing, a failed relationship, a job that disappeared with the faltering economy and then, the roof over her very head.

As they sat inside Jennie's shop, Maddie devoured 3 entire sandwiches, 2 roast beef and an egg salad. She ate until she could eat no more. It seemed a ridiculous waste to allow good food to be discarded. She pointed to the dozen or so sandwiches that remained, "can I take those back with me?" she asked, almost ashamed.

"You staying at the shelter?" Jennie asked.

Maddie shook her head emphatically, "nope, no way!" She tried that once and felt so unsafe, it was better to try her luck on the street. "I'm over at the tent city. At the end of 14th, just past the railway tracks."

Jennie pushed a grey strand behind her ear, "I thought they shut that down?" She stood up, looking frantically around her bakery, "tell ya what," she offered, "you can take the sandwiches, and the rest of the things I haven't tossed, as log as you agree to take a couple cases of water too."

Maddie agreed and stood up to leave.

Jennie offered her a ride to the tent city, "you can't carry the water and all the food," she reasoned.

"Okay, " Maddie acquiesced, " but you stop out of sight." She didn't want her fellow campers to see her being dropped off. She wasn't sure why, it just seemed to be a faux pas. Her co-residents were great people, some of the most decent, honest, down to earth people she'd ever met, she just couldn't arrive in a car she was sure would be fancy.

Jennie nodded. She knew what the girl before her was thinking. "I'll stop right before the tracks."

Maddie nodded with approval.

Jennie scratched her chin. There was a single, long curly dark hair protruding from it, "you ever work in a kitchen?" she asked.

Maddie sat back down, "you want me to do dishes or something? she asked, "to cover this?"

Jennie shook her head, her pudgy post-menopausal cheeks slightly swaying with the motion, "no, not really." She looked Maddie over closely. She knew the signs and she didn't look like an active addict, she looked like someone who had gotten the middle finger from life, partly through her own choices, partly due to circumstances beyond her control. She looked like a prettier, younger version of her former self. She inhaled deeply, "but, I need a dishwasher, and prep cook," she explained, "nothing glamourous, washing dishes, chopping veggies, making sandwiches."

Maddie's eyes widened, "how much?"

"Minimum wage at first," Jennie advised, "then, we see how it goes. If you do a decent job, I could see you maybe learning to bake."

"I can bake," Maddie replied, "I can cook anything. I practically raised my 5 brothers and sisters." It wasn't a lie, she did, until she married the first boy that could take her from her mother's home and her abusive boyfriend.

Jennie sat silently.

"I told you," Maddie reminded, "I don't take hand outs." She continued, "I never worked in a business kitchen, but I've done cleaning, customer service, and done a lot of cooking and cleaning at home."

"Not much different in a commercial kitchen," Jennie eyed her hopefully, "pay is every week." She paused momentarily, her face shifted suddenly, with worry, "you have a bank account?"

Maddie snorted, "I'm homeless, not stupid. What time do you want me?"

"3 - 11, Thursday through Sunday to start," Jennie said, "weekends are the busiest times."

Maddie nodded, and for the next several months, she walked the 3 miles from the tent city to the bakery every Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday. She worked hard and took every leftover she could carry back to the tent city with her. There was a code, you get, you share. Share and share alike. When she was down, others shared with her, she loved being able to return the favour.

Then, a couple weeks ago, Jennie told her about a friend of hers, James something or other, that rented out apartments. Nothing fancy, clean, neat studios at a reasonable rate. She set up a meeting and Maddie decided to move in.

She could almost pinch herself. Who'd have thought, after everything, abuse, a bitter divorce, job loss and 3 years on the street, she'd be back on her feet, with a job she loved and now, a home of her own, her own roof. "Maddie's place," she thought to herself. It had a nice ring, "let's go over to Maddie's place, Maddie's over at her place, doing stuff." It was almost surreal, and to think it all started with a slice of chocolate cake she'd lifted from the dumpster.