Page 95 of Seasons of Love
4
ELLIS
Tyler’s soup kitchen isn’t hard to find.
I park by the church he mentioned and walk around to the back. It’s late afternoon, but unlike the Stillwater I’ve come to know, this part of town looks sad, unattended, and forgotten in the dusky colors of the sunset.
There are few trees, no flowers, no life. I’m pretty sure the grass is dead, and people must have walked on it so often they’ve created their own clear paths because you can see the dry soil underneath.
I’ve seen worse, much worse. But I didn’t think I’d see this in what seems like such a close-knit community and small town like Stillwater.
The way everyone supported the kids’ Spring Fair after a fire in one of the school buildings destroyed everything we’d been working on was the kind of stuff you see in Hallmark movies.
That Stillwater doesn’t match this one. Why aren’t people getting together to improve this area?
“Ellis, hey, glad you could make it.”
I see Tyler coming from behind a rusty white van that looks like the last time it saw better days was a few decades ago.
“Hey, I’m happy to help. Where do you want me?”
“Can you grab those two boxes from the back? They’re big but light. Just rolls.”
I do as he says and then follow him inside the building. We go straight into a kitchen, where there’s a group of people busy around three stoves, chatting animatedly.
They don’t notice as we walk behind them. Tyler puts his box down and then sets mine on top of his.
“Ready for intros?” he whispers as if I’m about to be induced into a super-secret society.
“Feed me to the wolves,” I joke.
“Not quite, but,” he says, looking me up and down, “you’re easy on the eye, so I’d stay away from Emy. She’s a flirt, but she keeps her hands to herself.”
“So why do I need to stay away from her?”
“Do you have a particular interest in earthworms, fig wasps, or Star Wars fan fic?”
“No?”
“That’s why.”
Okay…
He turns to the group, and I take a second to process what he just said before Tyler makes the introductions.
“Hey, team, this is Ellis. He’s a teacher at the elementary school, and he’s helping us today. Be gentle,” he warns, and they all laugh. “From left to right, that’s Anne, Bob, Cathy, Dave, and Emy.”
I smile and raise my hand in a collective hi.
“He likes to keep us in alphabetical order so he doesn’t forget our names,” Bob says. They all laugh again and return to the stoves where they’re preparing the food.
“He’s not wrong,” Tyler says. “Come with me.”
We walk through a set of double doors that leads straight to a hall with faded parquet flooring.
“This used to be a sports facility?” I ask.
“Yeah, a long time ago. Since they built the new high school years ago, this building became too far away and impractical. The kids didn’t have enough time to walk back to school between PE and the other classes.”
