Errant Thoughts Story, Part 29

Susan paused in front of the Job Services building, drew a deep breath and squared her shoulders before entering for the last time. After this week, she would have exhausted the available time on unemployment benefits. So many times she had wished there was a way not to come back to this depressing building that reinforced her feelings of failure, but she needed the money too much to give up on the process.

Today she had an appointment with her case-worker; basically, a pep-talk on keeping on with the job search and all the ways they could still help, except without any money. As she waited in line to let them know she was there, a familiar voice drew her attention across the room. In amazement, she spotted Diane, former co-worker and best friend, turning in job applications. Sensing her gaze, Diane looked up, flushed and shifted so her back was towards Susan.

Mind whirling with conjecture, Susan barely heard a word during her meeting and walked home in a daze. There was no time to go to the library and search for news of her old company before she would have to start Iris's supper. Grinding her teeth in frustrated curiosity, she ran upstairs for a quick shower. It wasn't until she headed back down that she laughed out loud at the realization that Diane had done her an unwitting favor by providing a distraction from her thoughts about the looming loss of most of their combined incomes at the same time.

Meanwhile, Dave finished his afternoon work at the church and went straight to the home of one of the elderly parishioners where he had been helping garden all summer. Most of the gardens had produced bumper crops, but the August heatwave and diminished stamina of the aged gardeners meant that without help, much of the bounty would have gone to waste. This evening he was helping Mr. Haskell with more salsa. Together they had already put up dozens of jars, but the plants were still in full production and Dave had learned that most of these older people considered food waste to be a sin.

Fortunately, between his youth and a summer of constant physical work, Dave had all the stamina needed to spend his evenings in hot, steamy kitchens, following directions and learning everything he could about canning. "Mr. Haskell, what are you going to do with all this salsa? There must be enough to keep you eating it everyday for years."

"Ah ha! That would be telling," waggling his bushy eyebrows expressively, he relented. "Oh, all right, I'll tell you. Everyone knows I make the best salsa so I let it slip I'd have plenty to trade. That way, nobody else bothers making any and cans the foods I don't have. For example, Joe Coutts has a grandson with a farm. He gets all the sweet corn he wants and was ready to can enough for everyone. That's easier to can so I can trade one jar of salsa for three of his corn if it was a good year."

"Sweet corn? I wonder if he would like some help with that."

Mr Haskell nodded in approval, "I'll ask him. By the way, I talked to Hank and he's agreed to pick up all your jars as you make the next food boxes delivery."

Dave sighed happily; he was being paid in jars of preserved food and had worried about how to get them all home safely. The jars of pickles alone would be a big job to move.

The older man's mood shifted and he sounded morose when he said, "I'm worried, Dave. The time might come when the church won't have food to hand out and a lot of people never had to scrimp and save every penny before. I wish I had planted some winter squash or pumpkins."

"I know at least two gardens with pumpkins. And the church is growing acorn squash. Don't worry about that, at least." Even as he spoke the reassurances, a knot of dread tightened in Dave's gut at the thought of any of these good people going hungry.

Part 30