After All

That said, I don’t tell Alyssa what I have planned until she’s sliding into the passenger seat of my car. The only thing I said to her earlier was for her to dress down.

Of course, she totally overthought the word “down” just like she overthought “jogging” and “sailing.” She’s literally wearing a long-sleeved baseball t-shirt and overalls.

I don’t think I’ve seen a woman wear overalls in a non-ironic way since I was in high school.

“Alyssa,” I say carefully as I look her over, trying to hide a smile. “When you heard dress down, did you think going to pick corn at my grandpa’s farm?”

She looks down at herself, defensive. “What? This is in. This cost forty fucking dollars at H and M!”

“Well if it’s at H and M, then it’s got to make sense,” I say mockingly.

She crosses her arms in a huff. “Well it would help if I knew where we were going and what we were doing.”

“You’ll find out.”

The truth is, I don’t want to scare her off, not until we’re at least there. I know Alyssa will probably take it all in stride, but still. She also has the tendency to build crazy ideas in her head into full-grown entities. I wanted to take her by surprise.

But Alyssa is smart. And as soon as my car takes a right off of Cambie Street and down Hastings, she knows. No one deliberately comes here. It’s always by accident. And this is no accident.

I pull in to a parking garage and come to a stop and it’s only then that she looks at me with soft eyes. “We’re here, aren’t we?”

I nod. “Yup.”

I get out and open the trunk, taking out the plastic bag full of craft service items I took from yesterday. I know the soup kitchen does a really good job with tasty and nutritious meals, but I also know it never hurts to have extra, especially food that’s portable. And yes, easy to trade, but at least the person then has a choice of whether to choose the drugs over hunger.

Alyssa gives me a slight smile and then grabs my hand, holding it tight.

Shit. I know she’s nervous about all of this, that it’s taking her out of her element. But the fact that she’s here with me, that she’s willing to see where I’ve come from, it means the fucking world.

“Did you know that four people die here each day,” I tell her as we walk down the stairwell of the parking garage. It smells like piss and she’s already wrinkling up her nose. It’s only going to get worse for her going forward. “That one hundred people in BC died from drug overdoses last month? That ‘Welfare Wednesday’ this April resulted in 130 calls for overdoses just on that day alone?”

She shakes her head. “I knew it was bad. But I didn’t think it was that bad. I’m a little ashamed to admit it but when I see this stuff on the news, I just tune it out. It feels so…hopeless.”

“I know what you mean. I keep coming here and trying to help, volunteering, but it’s like yelling into the wind. I wish I could shake them all, show them what happened to my mom, show them who I am and that I’m an example that you can come out of this world and live but…”

“At least you’re doing something. Most people turn a blind eye.”

“And I don’t blame them. Because it’s hard. It’s hard to watch humanity self-destruct. The government has failed them. Our supposedly glorious health care system has waiting lists upon waiting lists for detox centers and rehabs, turning away people who actually want to get clean. There’s no place for these people to go, no way to get help. It’s a circle of death that never ends. Hell. There are even teams of Good Samaritans on the streets right now, finding those who have overdosed and saving them when health care workers can’t.”

I know I shouldn’t sound so morbid about the whole thing but when we exit the garage and out onto the street, the depravity hits us tenfold.

Just like every time, it’s like walking onto the set of a zombie film where the special effects are terrifyingly real. People are scattered everywhere, camped out against the buildings, wandering across the street and nearly getting hit by cars and buses. Some ask for money, some try and sell stolen goods, most just talk to themselves when they’re not talking to each other. Every single soul here in need of help.

I feel a lump forming in my throat, a debilitating sadness that cancels out all the fear. There’s so much I should be able to do and what I can won’t go far.

I stop there in the middle of the sidewalk and wonder what’s even the point.

But then Alyssa squeezes my hand, looks up at me with gentle determination and then starts handing out the food to the people.

I watch her for a few moments, humbled and awestruck by the sight of her being so kind, so compassionate, so brave as she meets and tries to talk to each and every poor soul she comes across. It’s not an easy thing to do. The majority of them light up when they see her, even if she doesn’t represent drugs, even if hunger is the last thing on their mind.

I know how they feel. That’s what she does to me.

She lights me up inside, puts the sun in my sky.

Fuck.

I might be completely in love with her.

No.

Not might.

I am completely in love with her.

No doubts, no performances, no lies.

Just truth.

I blink at her there, standing on the darkened street, surrounded by the hopeless and yet now I’m brimming with love and hope from the inside out.

After she hands an energy bar to an old woman, Alyssa straightens up and looks over at me questioningly. I can tell she’s still nervous about this whole thing, but she’s doing it anyway. And I know she really doesn’t want to do it alone.

You don’t ever have to be alone again.

I nod at her, my smile spreading to an outright grin that probably seems horribly out of place.

Then I snap out of it and go to her side.

Together we walk up the street, handing out food until our bags are almost empty.

Then I take her hand, warm and small in mine, and lead her into the building.

“This is where I grew up,” I tell her as we go up the stairs.

I take her all the way to the top floor and nod at the closed door down the hall. “That’s where I was raised. And this is where Jimmy is.”

I knock on his door. It’s closed for once. And again, I feel that rush of trepidation, that I’m going to find something awful behind that door and I’m going to find it with Alyssa by my side.

I almost start to shield her but then the door opens and Jimmy is on the other side.

“Tetty!” he says with his gap-toothed smile. Then he looks at Alyssa in surprise. “And who might you be?”

“Jimmy, this is my girlfriend Alyssa,” I tell him proudly. It doesn’t feel like a lie anymore, even if I’m the only one who thinks it.