Hopeless mission

So last night we were both at our computers engrossed in schoolwork (after midnight on a weekend no less) when the dog started yipping. She was sitting on a chair and facing the front door. We told her to be quiet and went back to our tasks. A minute later, there was a man at the doorway to the office.

He hadn't rung the bell or knocked, and this was one of the rare occasions when we didn't have the alarm set. He had walked in. He was looking for help, he said. He wanted blankets because the shelters were full and he was going to sleep outdoors in sheltered corner beside the entrance to the Ashton apartments. He was with his girlfriend.

"She has a wooden leg..." he said. I went to the door - which he had left wide open - and across the street I could see a shopping cart. Big blue plastic kind. And on the bottom level, where you'd put heavy flat things like bags of rice or kitty litter, there was a body all curled up. He'd been wheeling her around like that.

"It's warm in here," he said.

It's not the first time we've had uninvited guests. I came out of the bathroom downstairs once to find a woman looking at stuff in my livingroom. When I asked what she thought she was doing, she said "Just checking it out." That was in the summer and during the day, not the middle of the night in January. And there are a lot of people in our part of town who come from communities where no-one locks the door and you just walk in. It's not an invasion; it's just that boundaries are different in the towns these folks come from.

Our current visitor was a bit worse for drink. This made him behave like our arthritic one-eyed cat. He would open the door and sniff the air, turn back inside and say "It's nice and warm in here." And the door would still be wide open.

He'd left muddy shoeprints on the tiles in the music room. While my partner went to find spare blankets, I called the Hope Mission to see if they had any beds. I tried to get our visitor to stay put - and he probably thought my concern was for our stuff. Our house is full of interesting stuff - art and books and glass and ceramics. But I knew he wasn't likely to take any of the stuff. What would he do with it? No, I wanted him to stay put so I wouldn't have to spend more time cleaning the floor again. I'd just washed them all a few days ago.

The Hope Mission said they had plenty of mats and our visitors would be welcome. The Mission is only a few blocks away.

"You got something to eat?"

We had spent all day making sausages. We'd made two kinds: a pre-cooked kind with rice and assorted meats (goose, deer, turkey) and a raw kind. So my other half nuked some of the pre-cooked ones while I chatted to our visitor. He wasn't too happy with the phone call to the Hope Mission. I asked him how they found themselves in this situation.

"Don't ask about that," he said.

"You have a problem," I said, "and you want to make it MY problem, so I figure I have a right to ask." Hey, when you want something from a writer, there's a toll booth: cough up the story.

"So where are you from?" I asked.

"My mother."

A comedian.

"You got anything to eat?"

"We're getting you something. Sausages - we made them today. They're good - rice, meat. You'll like them."

"You got any socks?" he asked.

"On my feet." Two comedians. I went to see if my partner needed any help in the kitchen.

He wandered into the kitchen, tracking dirty snow through the livingroom and hallway. He didn't want the sausages. "They don't look right," meaning they don't look like the ones from the store. "You got anything else?" We didn't, really. We had used all the salad, had no fresh vegetables, and all our odds and ends of meat had gone into the sausages. We had dined on the leftover sausage meat.

"Pork...sausage...doesn't sound right."

"Maybe you should bring your friend in for a few minutes."

"She's got a wooden leg."

It wasn't a non-sequitur. The an building our deck started it last May and still hasn't come back with the railings, so the steps aren't safe for anyone who isn't confident of their balance.

We offered a ride to the Mission. He took the blankets instead. I understood this in a way - the shelters in town are segregated, so he wouldn't be sleeping with his girlfriend. So he took the beige comforter and an old red wool blanket that belonged to my partner's grandmother. He left before we could pack the sausages up.

He got his girlfriend out of the shopping cart and half carried her to the corner where they thought they might spend the night. He spread the blanket and comforter over them. My partner took them the sausages. All our visitor said was "You got any warmer blankets?"

My partner called the Hope Mission to see if their van could pick the couple up, but they only send the van if EMS asks for it. So my partner called the police and asked that they check on these folks. I washed the floors.

They did. After 5 a.m. A police car came and rousted the couple from their spot, making them pick up their blankets and move along. Just as the night was reaching its coldest.

Do I feel guilty? No. We provided good food, warm blankets. We found a bed for the night and offered transportation. Our uninvited guest wanted more. He felt completely comfortable walking into our home, asking for things, and then complaining that he wanted better. I wasn't looking for gratitude; it has always irked me that food and shelter aren't free. But he was rude, tracked dirt all over, lied about the shelters being full.

I still want to know the story, though.