Jack had just exhausted the figurative gold mine of sapiens-in-snapshot achievements, and was excited to maybe finally get his questions answered, when he heard his doorbell ring. At this time of day, it was almost certainly solicitors, and he was planning on just ignoring them, but then they rang the bell again. And again, and again. Seriously?
Thoroughly annoyed at whoever was answer-blocking him, got off his bed and stomped towards the front door. If this wasn't a solicitor offering a god damn free blow job, he was going to be doing some yelling.
Not bothering to look through the peephole to see who it was, he just jerked the door open. Standing on his doorstep was a young woman with frizzy reddish-brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, wearing baggy black denim jeans and a gray hoody large enough to qualify as a short dress. She was looking down with slightly hunched shoulders and flinched when Jack yanked the door open.
"Madison? What was she doing here?" He'd known her since sixth grade, and she was the only person he considered as a friend. They spent a lot of time together during the school year, but her home life was complicated. Like him, she was an orphan, but unlike him, she had living relatives, and had ended up living with her aunt and uncle. They were weird; controlling, and permissive in strange ways. They hardly ever let her out of the house except for school and didn't let her have a cell phone. But at the same time they give her a laptop and Internet access, never seeming to care what she did with either. So, he was surprised to see her on his front porch.
"Um, hi?" she said, timidly. She was unusually subdued.
It was at that moment he noticed she was also wearing a backpack and had a small roller suitcase next to her. "What happened? Are you okay?"
"Maybe? Can we, um talk inside?"
"Sure, okay." He stepped back, holding the door open, and waved her inside.
She picked up the roller case and hunched her shoulders as she squeezed past him, stopping just at the edge separating the hardwood foyer from the carpeted living room.
He close the door, then walked past her to stand closer to the middle of the living room.
"So, what happened? I thought your wardens never let you out." Calling her aunt and uncle her wardens was a morbid inside joke between them.
Still looking at the floor, she took a deep breath, paused, then let it out. Then she did it again. It seemed like she wanted to say something but was having trouble building up the courage. He opened his mouth to say something, not sure what, when she took another deep breath and spoke.
"I left. I had to! I just couldn't take it anymore. They were getting worse and worse, and I just knew if I didn't leave, they would do something awful! So, left. I came here because Fran said I could. And I'll be eighteen in a few months, so it should be fine. Please don't make me leave." Everything came out in a rush, and the last was said with such desperation that Jack almost walked over and gave her a hug. The only reason he didn't was because she had made it clear very early in their friendship that she did not like being touched.
He really wanted to know what she meant by "they would do something awful". Who was "they"? Her aunt and uncle, her cousins? And what awful thing? And when had she talked to Fran?
"Fran told you? When?" He wasn't comfortable asking her about the "something awful", but he had no qualms asking her about whatever Fran was supposed to have told her.
"During graduation. I wanted to talk to her one last time, before, you know..." she paused, probably worried how he would react to her referencing Fran's recent death.
"I understand. Go on." He did. He wasn't going to get mad at her for bringing it up. And he certainly couldn't fault her for wanting to talk to Fran one last time. The few times she had been allowed to come visit him over the summer breaks, she and Fran had seemed to get along just fine.
"So, um...when I talked to her, she asked me if everything was alright. I said things were fine, but I don't think she believed me. She, um...she said if I couldn't take it any more, I should come stay with you. She said you wouldn't kick me out. She also said if you looked hesitant, that I should remind you of the shelter. What did she mean by that?"
At the end she had looked up and was looking at him, with a look of desperation, and hope and confusion.
The shelter. The woman's shelter. During Fran's last days, they had discussed what to do with her clothes and some other possessions. In the end, she had declared that she wanted him to donate all her stuff to a specific woman's shelter that was unaffiliated with any religious organization.
So, if Fran was telling Madison to mention the shelter, then it was possible that the "something awful" was physical, or maybe even sexual abuse. He felt a rage building inside him. If they were abusing her, then they would pay.
"Did they do something? Do we need to call the police?" he asked, almost growled.
"What? No. No police! They...they didn't do anything illegal. Not yet, anyway."
The way she said it left him wondering if that was true, that they had done nothing illegal. But he wouldn't force the matter. And he had no reason to think she was lying about talking to Fran, not after mentioning the shelter. So...
"Okay, you can stay. The other bedroom is mostly empty, so you can use that. We'll need to go buy you an air mattress, though. Unless you like sleeping on the floor." He said the last jokingly, trying to lighten the mood.
"Um...I can just sleep on the couch. There's no need to spend..."
He interrupted her. "It's not a problem. They are not that expensive, way cheaper than an actual mattress. A week's worth of lattes from Stetle Brew would cost more."
She chuckled at his reference to the famous coffee chain known for their expensive coffee. "Okay. Thanks."
"Come on, I'll show you the room." Then he led her down the hall and opened the door to the former office/storage room. It had an empty desk in one corner and a small pile of boxes in the other. Seeing the boxes, Jack was reminded that he still needed to take Fran's things and donate them to the woman's shelter. While we wanted to just go to his room and dive into his soul space, he also didn't want to leave Madison alone. Still, he needed to go get her an air mattress, and he might as well make the donation trip while he was at it.
"So...I was thinking," he paused, "since I have to go out to buy an air mattress, I figured I might as well take care of donating Fran's things as well."
She nodded. "That makes sense." Then she pointed at the small pile of boxes in the corner, "are those it?"
"Yeah, that's most of it. But I still have a few of Fran's things I need to pack. I...was not looking forward to it. So, I've been putting it off."
"Do you want help?"
"Yes!" he blurted. He really didn't want to deal with the emotions that would almost certainly get dredged up as he was packing her remaining clothes. "Do you mind if you do it by yourself?"
She shook her head. "No, I don't mind."
"Great, let me grab a box. The sooner you're done, the sooner I can get going and get back."
Jack loaded the last of the boxes into the Gray Nissan Sentra he had inherited from Fran, then closed the passenger door. He'd filled the trunk, back seats, and the front passenger seat, managing to cram everything he planned to donate into the car. The car was so full that he could barely see out the back window through the rearview mirror, but at least he would only have to make one trip. He found the thought of giving away any of Fran's things unpleasant, but he intended to carry out her last wishes, and this was one of them.
He turned to Madison, who had helped load the boxes, "Are you sure you're okay to be here by yourself? It feels kinda rude to leave so soon after you just got here."
She sighed, "It's fine Jack. Really. Besides, it will be nice for once to be able to take a shower wi...in peace and quiet."
It sounded like she was going to say something else, then changed her mind. With? Without? Without what? Without her uncle or cousin creeping on her? He really wanted to know what was going on there that caused her to flee, but he wasn't going to ask. If she wanted him to know,
she'd tell him.
"Okay, I don't think I'll be able to avoid evening rush hour, so It will probably take me at least three, maybe four hours."
"It's fine Jack. And thanks for letting me stay."
"Hey. What are friends for?"
He got in the driver's seat and pressed the button on the garage door opener. As he backed out of the garage, Madison waved once, then turned and walked back into the house. Pushing the button to closed the garage door, he backed out onto the street. He hoped he could avoid the worst of rush hour. He was tempted to try and activate Parallel Self, so he could play with snapshots while he drove, but he wasn't certain how it worked and didn't want risk crashing.
The women's shelter was a small three story building that had originally been a hotel. When Jack walked into the lobby, he noticed an older woman behind the reception desk and two women standing in front of the desk. One was a younger woman that couldn't be older than twenty, and the other was of indeterminate age, not young, not old, with shoulders hunched.
As Jack approached the desk, he noticed that the woman with hunched shoulders turned to hide her face and hunched her shoulders even further. He wasn't certain, but figured the woman with hunched shoulders was staying at the shelter and the younger woman was a volunteer.
Stopping at the desk, he said tentatively, "Hi, I'm Jack. I talked to Melody about donating some stuff. She said I could drop it off with you?"
The older woman behind the desk frowned slightly before saying, "Melody didn't mention anything to me about receiving a donation." She paused, then started, "Let me-"
But before she could continue, the young woman interjected disdainfully, "Well, don't you just feel special, swaggering in here like you're god's gift to woman? Like we should be grateful to you for gracing us with your largess." Then she hmphed and continued, "We don't need your man things. Get lost!"
Still emotionally raw from his loss and not entirely comfortable parting with Fran's possessions, he felt rage building inside him. This girl, he'd subconsciously downgraded her from woman, was shitting all over his memory of Fran, over her choices, over her possessions.
The woman behind the desk gave the girl a look of admonishment. At the same time, Jack turned to the girl and said, "They are not my things. They are my mother's things, and one of her dying wishes was for her possessions to be donated to this shelter. So, please, by all means, continue shitting on my dead mother." He thought about making a template of her, so he could...he squashed the thought.
The girl looked like she would rather double down than admit she overstepped, but before she could mouth off, the woman behind the desk said, "Fran? Is your mother Fran?"
"Yes," he replied, turning back to look at the older woman. "Yes, she is...was my mother."
She turned to the girl and, while pointing at the woman with hunched shoulders, said, "Take her to room five and help her get settled." Then turning to Jack, she said, "I'm so sorry for your loss." Then she then continued, "Melody did call. She failed to mention your name, but did tell me a bit about Fran and the help she has provided this shelter in the past."
This was news to Jack. Both Fran and Jacob had mentioned a few times that they believed any good deeds should speak for themselves and didn't need an advertisement. So, here was proof that they followed their own advice.
The older woman continued, "We all appreciate you taking the time to bring her donation to us. Do you want any help?"
"No," he said, "I can handle it. Where do you want me to put the boxes?"
"I'll show you when you bring in the first box."
He nodded, then turned and went outside to fetch the first box. When he returned, the older woman came out from behind her desk and gestured for Jack to follow her down a hall that led off the left side of the lobby.
As he followed her, she turned to him and said, "Please don't be too angry with the girl. She didn't know."
Still angry, he said, "And, what if I was donating things I purchased myself? Would you still be apologizing for her?"
She stopped walking and turned to face him. "As much as I hate to say it, we have had a few unpleasant experiences in the past with male donors. And because of those unpleasant experiences, we have had to institute a policy of only accepting donations from women, or women-owned businesses. It isn't out of discrimination, but out of necessity that we made that policy. It has made it harder to support this shelter, but it has allowed us to remain independent and, more importantly, it has increased the security for all the women who shelter here."
He wondered what had happened that forced them to turn away donations from men. He also noticed that she was not using the girl's name, just referring to her as "girl". He suspected it was for security reasons.
She continued, "If it had been your donation, I would have thanked you for your kind intentions, but politely declined, due to our policy. I would have also apologized for the girl's rudeness."
He sighed, "Okay, I think I understand. I didn't know about your policy. Thanks' for not..."
"It's okay. It's not really your donation, anyway. And, it's Fran's donation and you're just delivering it. So, it's not a problem." She winked at him, which helped take the sting out of her "not your donation" claim.
He nodded, and she turned and resumed walking down the hallway.
Jack pulled into his garage, happy to be done driving for the day. His earlier prediction of it taking between three to four hours had proved wrong. He left around one, and it was now just after four. Traffic had been worse than usual for that time of day, but not as bad as it could have been.
He grabbed the air mattress off the front passenger seat and headed into the house. The door to the garage was in the kitchen, and as he passed through it on the way living room, he noticed a plate and glass sitting on the kitchen table. He was a little embarrassed to realize he hadn't considered if Madison was hungry when she had arrived. He also realized he was starving. His last meal had been breakfast. As he headed for the hallway led to the bedrooms, he decided he was going to order pizza for dinner.
As he entered the hallway, a stunning young woman walked out of the room he'd given to Madison. She had hair the same color as Madison's, but it was loose and arrayed around her head like a frizzy halo. She was wearing a thin camisole and cotton shorts, and her athletic figure was on full display.
His first thought on seeing the woman was, Nipples! She was clearly not wearing a bra and the camisole material was thin enough that he could see a faint outline of her areolas framing two sharp points, tenting the fabric of her top. His second thought was mild irritation that Madison would invite someone over without asking him first. Then his eyes focused on her face and dropped the air mattress in shock as he realized who she was.
"Madison?!" He had no idea she was this hot. She'd always worn baggy clothes and now he was begging to understand why. There was no way guys would leave her alone if she showed off this figure.
"Eep!" she squeaked, then dashed back into her room, slamming the door behind her. "Just a second!" she yelled through the door. "Is that the air mattress?"
"Um...Yes?" he replied. Still confused by what he was seeing. When did she get hot?
A few seconds later, she opened her door and stepped back out into the hallway, this time wearing baggy sweatpants and a large t-shirt. He could still see more of her chest than he ever had before, but it was still less revealing than what many girls at school had worn regularly.
She walked over to Jack, bent over and picked up the air mattress, then turned and headed back towards her room. As she walked away, she called over her shoulder, "I'm hungry. Can we order pizza?"
"Um...sure? Yes! I was just thinking the same thing."
He turned and headed towards the living room. The image of her in her thin camisole and cotton shorts was etched into his brain, and his pants were still tight. As he sat on the couch, he rearranged himself so he was more comfortable, and less obvious, then opened the pizza store app on his phone. At the same time, he turned on the T.V. and opened the WebTube app. He needed to distract himself and hoped his earlier arousal would subside before Madison came out of her room.