#26: Second Shift.

Update on Isaiah:
Last week I wrote about my friend Isaiah who was in jail in New Hampshire and wanted me to post bail. I found out from his lawyer that he would be released on probation in a week. When I had a video chat with him, he said he still wanted me to bail him out because he was worried he’d have to stay in NH when released. I told him to talk to his lawyer about that. But I actually hope that’s true. Knowing what (little) I know about the system over there, I think it’s more likely he’ll be connected immediately to services, shelter, and Suboxone there than if he were released and had to get reconnected to services here.

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Danny¹ is one of my favorite new friends. Whenever I walk by he seems happy to see me. Even If I’m across the street he waves and yells hi. At first, I thought he was only trying to get my attention so I'd go over and give him money, but I soon learned he was happy just to shoot the breeze. He’s kind of like the street version of a Wal-Mart greeter. Sometimes I give him a few bucks, sometimes not. If I do, it feels like an afterthought for both of us.

Danny‘s from another part of the state. Although the details are, as always, a little unclear, he and his wife came here when they qualified for the motel voucher program—either before, during, and/or after Covid. Sometimes you qualify but have to go quite a long way to find a place with rooms. That’s what happened to them. So they ended up in Brattleboro.

At first, he says, they stayed in a tent somewhere behind the shelter until there was room for them inside. They’re still there, although Danny was just evicted for a week because he was caught handing something to someone else. Which is one way the shelter tries to manage drug dealing. Danny says it was a lighter. I’m pretty sure it came with something that one might want to light.² Danny looks about my age but could be 15-20 years younger. He has about as many (few) teeth as most addicts. He strikes me as more of a pothead but told me he’s been successfully on Suboxone for two years. Either way, he probably doesn’t brush or floss that often.

His wife is still at the shelter, which is good because she’s on a walker. Danny’s staying either outside in some entryway or in an empty apartment with an ever-changing assortment of other people. I’ve heard it’s kind of like a college dorm room designed by Brueghel, with people and clothes and food cartons everywhere. Danny doesn’t complain. He even cadged his own room and got a master lock to protect his stuff. Still, when he went up to visit his wife one day, someone (he knows it was this guy Dick) kicked the door in and took some things. There’s some honor among thieves on the street, but, from what I’ve heard, not a whole lot. Dick doesn’t have any at all. He even steals from tip jars, something that most of my friends frown upon since they know the people serving them are one paycheck away from joining them. One time my friend Jake did it but felt so bad he returned the money.

Street Economics 101.

Danny’s glad he’s “down south” here because he was hanging out with the “wrong crowd” where he came from. He told me that thanks to his daddy he can do any kind of work. Carpentry. Paperhanging. And he does manage to pick up a job here and there. Although, like so many other people I talk to, he says he doesn’t have an ID. Yesterday, he told me he’s getting it on Tuesday³ and plans to get a job either washing dishes or working up at the food distributor. They’re now paying starting salaries of $17-$22 an hour (which is significantly more than you get washing dishes.) That sounds like a lot. But if his wife is on a walker and can’t work, they’d be living on his $800 a week. Still sounds decent. A one-bedroom in our town, if you can find one, is typically about $1200, putting him just above the recommended housing %. The first and last month's rent and security deposit might be a stretch but I’m pretty confident he’ll be off the street by Spring. I’ll keep you posted.

As the winter has gone on, Danny has added layers of coats, the latest with a furry hood, so now you can barely see his face, which gives him a certain elf-like appearance. He’s usually pretty upbeat, but he was kinda mad today because the person he claims was supposed to drive him to the DMV was sick and couldn’t take him. Still, even when Danny’s kinda mad it’s like he’s challenging the universe to an arm-wrestling contest. There’s a lot of righteousness but not a lot of self. Reminds me a little of Moe in the Three Stooges when he’d say to Curly, “Why I oughtta…” The anger appears to be a combination of real and feigned on a foundation of fondness.

The first time I gave Danny money, he put it in his pocket and we talked for a while. When I was ready to leave, I asked him how long he’d be staying outside that night, and he said until he got $10 more. I said, well gee, I just gave you $10. His face lit up and he thanked me profusely before turning and taking off down the street like he’d just finished a second shift at the factory. I called after him. “Hey Danny, make sure it’s a $10.” (I wasn’t positive that’s what I pulled from my pocket.) He stopped, took it out, and checked. His face lit up and he yelled thanks again before continuing down the street. The end of another workday.

1. As usual, I’ve changed the person’s name and a few details.

2. Actually, on further “research,” I learned that he had passed that lighter to someone in a bathroom that was full of smoke…

3. I’m not sure why he waited so long to get it. Or, whether he really is getting it or just said that to convince me he was serious about getting a job.