announced she would contact some shelters out in Norristown and see what was available. From her matter-of-fact manner and sudden haste in searching for accommodations, Ebby sensed something was wrong. She hoped Alessa hadn’t overheard her heated argument with Ryan the night before but suspected she had. She handed Alessa a pamphlet for shelters in Montgomery County, run by the Salvation Army.
“Thanks, Ebby,” Alessa said gratefully. “I’m sure I can find a shelter and will probably be able to leave your place today.”
Ebby was overwhelmed by sadness as she left for work that morning. She knew Alessa wouldn’t be there when she returned home.
By noon, Alessa had called the few shelters on the pamphlet and learned that they were full. The shelters in the city were now out of bounds for her because her staying in any of them might put the lives of the residents and the staff in jeopardy.
Alessa called Ebby at the Eliza Shirley Shelter. “I found a shelter in Norristown that has room for me,” she lied. “I’m taking a bus there at one thirty this afternoon. I’ll call you once I get settled.”
When asked for detailed information about the place, Alessa picked a name from the pamphlet she had been given and read out the particulars. Happy that Alessa had found a safe haven and a little relieved as well that Ryan would stop riding her, Ebby prayed the girl would remain safe and asked her to call when she could. She added that she would like to continue being her therapist, even if it meant talking with her over the phone until it was safe for Alessa to visit her again.
Alessa agreed to that and promised to call later. She thanked Ebby for everything she had done for her. “You’re the kind of woman I hope to be when I grow up,” Alessa said. “What I love most about you is that you never treated me like I was a piece of trash. You made me feel like a normal person. That means everything to me.”
“You are a normal person, Alessa,” Ebby said. “You’re a normal person who endured and overcame abnormal conditions. Call me when you’ve settled in.”
By one thirty that afternoon, Alessa was at the bus stop. She was about to head back to the city of Philadelphia. She wasn’t going to Norristown like she had told Ebby. As she stepped onto the bus that would take her to the Thirtieth Street Train Station, she didn’t know where she would eventually end up. She planned to get to the station before deciding on another destination. Maybe, she thought, she could live somewhere that was warm all year.
Once inside the station, Alessa observed all the activity and chaos around her. Everyone there seemed to have a direction to follow, a destination to head for. Alessa kept sitting on one of the benches inside the enormous station, oblivious to the passing of time. Before she knew it, hours had gone by.
Hungry, Alessa found her way to a fast-food restaurant and ordered a burger and fries. Then she returned to the bench where she’d been sitting earlier and ate her dinner. As the station emptied of its busy commuters, Alessa noticed the scattering of people who, like her, hadn’t moved. The later it grew, the fewer the number of people loitering in the station. Alessa figured that the people who had remained behind had nowhere to go. They are probably homeless, too, she thought. She was relieved not to be alone, but as the hustle and bustle of the day died away, darkness descended on her like a shroud.
By 11 p.m., security guards were making their rounds, rousing those left on the benches and sending them back into the street. Alessa followed the small stream of homeless people trooping out of the station. Once outdoors, they all dispersed, heading in different directions. Alessa stood there, paralyzed, not knowing where to go. The dread settling in the pit of her stomach was so acute that tears rolled down her face. Through her blurred vision, she saw a teenage girl approaching her.
“Hey, you all right?” the girl asked, concerned.
For a fleeting moment, Alessa was unsure of whether she should trust her. Then knowing she had nothing to lose, she dove in. “Well, I’m . . . I’m . . . I don’t have anywhere to sleep tonight and I’m not sure where to go,” she blurted out.
The teen extended her hand. “I’m Sara. It’s going to be okay. There’s a group of us that stick together. None of us have anywhere to go either. We stay under a bridge a couple of blocks from here. You can come with me if you want to.”
