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The Blue Coat Lady and the Little Black Book

A heroine's journey

By Ruby LecotPublished 3 years ago 12 min read
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The Blue Coat Lady and the Little Black Book
Photo by TOMOKO UJI on Unsplash

The Blue Coat Lady and the Little Black Book

Carrie couldn’t remember how long she’d been homeless. Was it 3 winters? 5? Like most street kids, she had beauty and bravery she could not see, skills she did not recognize, and blame and shame that never belonged to her.

She had survived hiding by restaurant vents at night, scrounging through outlet store dumpsters for food scraps and discarded clothes, and by constantly moving to avoid patterns a predator could predict. Homeless girls are only visible to the wrong people.

She should have been hateful and hard. Her life growing up was more of a horror show than the street, so she ran away one night as a bloody and terrified 13-year-old and never stopped running.

Maybe she would have turned bitter over time, but kindness was so strong in Carrie that she only needed one little spark to keep the flame going. That spark was Little Dog. Carrie first saw Little Dog one night near a dumpster, an emaciated puppy chewing on a tattered paper bag soaked in grease. As soon as he heard her his hackles went up, he bared his teeth and growled menacingly while he inched slowly backward.

“Don’t worry little dog, I’m not gonna to hurt you”, Carrie said wearily backing away, “Just tryna find some supper too”. It was a good dumpster. Carrie found a half-eaten hamburger, some rib bones, a broken cigarette that was still dry, and a half bottle of water along with some dry cardboard. That particular dumpster also had a great sleeping spot. From most angles you couldn’t see that it had space behind it. If you were small enough to wiggle in, you could lay on one side under the exhaust vent and fall asleep feeling warm and smelling food.

Carrie crawled into her safe place with the cardboard. Before she fell asleep, she used the stub of the broken pencil she had to sketch out a beautiful scene – the sliver of night sky visible over the dumpster, wispy clouds, and the few stars bright enough to shine through the city lights.

When Carrie woke in the morning to the sounds of traffic, she was terrified to realize that she couldn’t move her legs. She laughed out loud when she realized why. The scrawny pup had crawled in with her during the night and was curled up on her legs. Carrie spoke softly to the pup and after a time felt the dog slowly wiggling his way closer to her face. She did not move. She felt a tiny wet nose pushing its way under her hand and a warm tongue licking her face. Tentatively, she patted the skinny pup on the head, and felt his tail wagging a bit. He pushed his way in to snuggle by her neck, let out a big sigh and fell back to sleep. That was that.

Carrie and Little Dog were inseparable. They protected each other, found food together, and kept each other company. Little Dog watched adoringly as Carrie searched through dumpsters, sketched him on old pieces of cardboard, and found their new safe place to sleep each night. Little Dog was the first time Carrie had ever experienced kindness in return. He made her feel loved. He was her best and only friend.

Carrie was sitting out of sight in a park one late winter day sketching on the back of a garbage poster when she first saw her - when she first saw her coat, would be more accurate. A tall, elegant woman was strolling and smiling through the park in the most beautiful long powder blue wool coat Carrie had ever seen. The woman stopped to drop her take-out coffee cup into a garbage can and her open coat caught the approaching spring breeze like a flowing cape. She looked like an angel.

When she ever dared to let herself dream, Carrie saw a coat like that. She pictured herself living in a nice safe apartment with bright white walls (the kind she saw in discarded magazines), sketching and painting at a real canvas while Little Dog slept in the sun, with her own paintings colouring the walls, and going out to buy groceries wearing a beautiful coat just like that! She was mesmerized.

Over the next month, Carrie caught glimpses of the same woman in the beautiful blue coat at different times around the park as she walked and drank her take-out coffee. The park was Carrie’s favourite place to come and draw, so she tried to always hide. No predictable patterns. She would watch the blue coat lady walk around and eventually stop to drop her empty coffee cup into various garbage cans before disappearing and returning home to what must be some fabulous life.

One morning after a long night of icy spring rain, Carrie and a soppy Little Dog had to find some sun to get rid of the wet night chill. Carrie found a secluded spot in the park protected from the wind with a bright patch of sun. She had brought a chunk of cardboard with her, and was pencil sketching around herself and Little Dog while waiting for the sun to warm and dry them.

“So you’re the artist!” said a woman’s voice, scaring Carrie so bad she jumped. Little Dog immediately jumped up snarling and barking, standing between Carrie and the threat. Carrie turned around to see the blue coat lady, slowly squatting down with one palm facing Little Dog to pick up her hat nearby which had blown off in the breeze. The blue coat lady backed away and said, “I won’t hurt you mister dog, I know you take your job seriously, and you’re a good protector”. The lady’s calm voice seemed to ease Little Dog a bit, and he stopped barking, but he showed the blue coat lady he meant business by growling every few seconds. “I won’t bother you” said the blue coat lady, “I just always wondered who was leaving the incredible sketches in the garbage. It’s you, isn’t it?” Carrie was frozen and could barely will herself to nod. The woman smiled softly. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”, she asked.

“C-c-c-c-Carrie” stuttered the homeless girl. Instantly the memory flooding in - the last time anyone had spoken her name. She suddenly had a clear image of her drunk asshole step-father, and could still smell the stale whisky. He was slurring and screaming, “Get me my gun, you stuttering useless piece of shit! No one c-c-c-Care-eees if you die.” He hurled his empty bottle, causing the scars that now etched her face.

“Well, Carrie” said the woman, interrupting the flashback, “I want you to know that you’re an amazing artist. There is so much beauty in you.”. Carrie looked down and did not look up again until the blue coat lady had awkwardly walked away. “Stupid spoiled white witch”, thought Carrie as her face burned red. But the blue coat lady’s words haunted her. She hated it. What did the lady mean by “so much beauty in you”, and why couldn’t she get those stupid words out of her head?? What did the lady mean by beauty? It couldn’t be her scarred and dirty face. It was the first time anyone had spoken to Carrie since she ran away from home, and it just affirmed why she stayed away from everyone - if you let them in your head, they would mess you up.

Carrie didn’t go near the park for a month. Finally, she figured the blue coat lady would have long since forgotten her, so she snuck back to the park in the late afternoon one day. She and Little Dog were trying to cut across a path quickly by darting out from some shrubs, but ended up getting pushed down the path by a large group of joggers flying by. The path had high hedges on each side, and Carrie had no choice but to stumble step quickly down the path with her head down, trying desperately to get to a break in the hedges so she could get off the main path. Just as she hit her, Carrie saw the flash of blue material come into view in front of her feet and tried to lift her head. Her nose smarted and her eyes watered. She had walked full speed into the back of the blue coat lady. Carrie couldn’t move. Little Dog barked and snarled, but then seemed to recognize the woman and sat down with his tail wagging. “Traitor”, Carrie thought.

“I…I’ve been looking for you”, stammered the blue coat lady. Her summer coat was also long and sky blue, but her face was now beet red, and she spluttered awkwardly, “I just want you to know that you deserve a good life. We all do.”. Carrie met the woman’s gaze, and saw that her eyes were watery too. The lady tried to continue, “I have… I want…. I uh…” The woman looked down at the path, and suddenly turned on her heel and fled. Carrie watched her retreat for a few moments and then looked down towards Little Dog to remind him of his treachery. That was when she noticed the little black book. It was right in front of her feet, and she knew it wasn’t there when she ran into the blue coat lady. Carrie picked it up and opened the first page. Handwritten there was a quote from someone named Cheryl Richardson. It read, “There are no coincidences. Every event we experience and every person we meet has intentionally been put in our path to help raise our level of consciousness.” In the same handwriting below the quote were the words, “You are worthy, you are beautiful, you are talented, you are so much braver than you know”. Carrie realized it must be the blue coat lady’s diary, and she ran down the path to catch her, but the blue coat was nowhere to be found.

Carrie looked for over an hour, but eventually gave up and found a safe place for the night. In the growing dusk, curiosity got the better of her, and she opened the blue coat lady’s diary once again. On every page, there were handwritten notes like, “One day you will see how talented you are. Until then, please trust.”, and the words that had haunted her since she heard them, “There is so much beauty in you”. Carrie slammed the book shut and a business card slid out halfway from the book. Carrie opened the marked page and nearly shouted when she saw the hundred dollar bill tucked in next to the little card. She turned the page and found a fifty dollar bill, then another hundred, and another. Carrie could barely remember how to count that high. In total, there was $20,000 thousand dollars tucked in the little black book. She counted again to be sure. Carrie didn’t sleep at all that night.

There’s only one thing more vulnerable than a girl alone on the street, and that’s a girl alone on the street with money. Carrie grabbed the first plastic bag she could find and dug a hole under a tree (Little Dog happily helped) in the park out of site. After she buried the book and the money, she stood up and noticed the business card from the book had fallen on the ground. The card read, “Trinity Youth Shelter. No Home? No ID? We can help”, along with the address.

For weeks Carrie looked for the blue coat lady but saw no trace. As she walked along, risking being seen, she thought about what it would be like to have that kind of money. She had seen ads for apartments in old newspapers. That money would pay for an apartment for a whole year! But you needed ID to rent a place - she remembered that from her useless mother and stepfather, who kept losing theirs.

After a month, Carrie realized the blue coat lady was not coming back. She worked up her courage for a few days and went to the youth shelter. She answered as few questions as possible to get the job done, and split. Men were watching her everywhere, and that’s why a homeless girl needs to stay invisible. Once she got her ID, Carrie dug up the little black book and went to a furnished apartment for rent that asked for cash up front. It was older than old, but it had security, it was clean, and the walls had been freshly painted white. It was so strange and terrifying for Carrie that she slept on the floor for the first few weeks. Little Dog quickly moved to the bed, and eventually she did too.

The next year was a blur of events and emotions - Carrie adjusting to living in a house, learning to cook, using a toilet again, showering, buying groceries, realizing she needed to get a job, her first interview, her fifth anxious interview and finally getting a call back. Her first day of work as a shampoo girl at the hair salon led to her first paycheck and the first time she bought a paintbrush and paint. Her first session at the free trauma clinic that her co-worker recommended after she felt safe enough to share her story. Her first piece of art, her tenth, and all the paintings that now adorned the white walls of her apartment. The day Little Dog collapsed and died in her arms in the morning sun, and she threw the little black book at the wall in anguish. It fell open to a quote that said, “When the ones who really love us leave us, it’s because they know we are strong enough to make it on our own”. The day the youth shelter counsellor came in for a haircut and recognized Carrie. They talked about Carrie’s transition from homelessness and her artwork, and the new gallery showcasing work of people who had experienced homelessness.

Now here she stood at the gallery, terrified, at the opening of her first show. As instructed, Carrie stood across from the entrance, welcoming guests and wishing she could disappear. She felt so vulnerable. Guests were gasping, and talking loudly, some were crying. Everyone applauded. Then a man asked to buy a painting. Carrie looked at the floor, but a little smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. The patrons understood what her paintings were saying, and they liked it.

Carrie looked up and locked eyes with a lady who was frozen at the entrance, staring back at her. The blue coat lady looked above Carrie for a second and locked eyes with Carrie again, tears now streaming down her face. She smiled, blew Carrie a kiss, bowed slightly and slipped out the door. Carrie ran after her, but again somehow the bright blue coat had disappeared without a trace. Carrie soon stopped - she needed to get back to her own art show. As she walked in the entrance, her eyes understood fully now the blue coat lady’s reaction. Show-cased on the main wall inside the entrance was Carrie’s feature piece - a 4x6 foot painting of the lady in the park the first day she had seen her – tall and elegant, stopped and dropping a coffee cup in the trash with the spring breeze billowing her sky blue wool coat like a cape. She looked like an angel.

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