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Kristal
Kristal
Kristal
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Kristal

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Kristal, a homeless teenager, arrives in a strange city, where she encounters Donna, a program assistant at a homeless center. Donna encourages Kristal to be her friend, and the two begin a tentative relationship. Kristal turns to her friend when she becomes ill and Donna takes her to a clinic, where they discover that the teenager has gonorrhea. Donna brings Kristal to the hospital and over time, the two young women become closer. With Donna's help, Kristal is placed in a foster home. When Donna invites Kristal to the homeless center for a Christmas celebration, she learns that the teenager is pregnant, and Kristal asks Donna to be her "auntie."
Kristal is placed in a home for pregnant teenagers, but she regularly runs away to be with her homeless friends on the street. Donna then discovers that Kristal is being physically abused by her boyfriend and urges Kristal to become more independent. Badly beaten by the father of her child, Kristal ends in the hospital, but through a series of contacts, the two young women become closer and closer. Donna becomes optimistic that Kristal is getting her act together until two detectives show up at the homeless center and Donna learns the sad news about her young friend.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherJohn Savage
Release dateMar 25, 2015
ISBN9781311463517
Kristal
Author

John Savage

John Savage, an ordained United Methodist minister, is president of L.E.A.D. consultants in Ohio, a leadership, education, and development training firm with more than 2,400 trainers throughout 13 countries.

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    Kristal - John Savage

    Kristal: A Novel

    John F. Savage

    Published by John F. Savage at Smashwords

    Copyright 2015 John F. Savage

    Kristal is a work of fiction. Any relationship to

    people living or dead is purely coincidental.

    TABLE OF CONTENTS

    Chapter 1 Tuesday, May 20

    Chapter 2 Tuesday, September 15 (One year earlier)

    Chapter 3 Thursday, September 22 (One week later)

    Chapter 4 Monday, October 12 (About three weeks later)

    Chapter 5 Tuesday, October 13 (The next day)

    Chapter 6 Wednesday, October 21 (Eight days later)

    Chapter 7 Thursdeay, October 22 (The next day)

    Chapter 8 Thanksgiving and Christmas (Two months later)

    Chapter 9 Thursday, January 7 (Almost two weeks later)

    Chapter 10 Saturday, Febuary 13 (Five weeks later)

    Chapter 11 Wednesday, March 17 (Almost a month later)

    Chapter 12 Tuesday, April 13 (Almost a month later)

    Chapter 13 Saturday, April 25 (Almost two weeks later)

    Chapter 14 Saturday, May 9 (Two weeks later)

    Chapter 15 Tuesday, May 20 (The day the story begins)

    1

    Tuesday, May 20

    It was starting to get warm early that May morning as Donna turned the corner of Front Street and headed for work. The clock in front of the First National Bank flashed the time – 8:11 a.m. – and the temperature – 76 degrees.

    As Donna approached the run-down building where she worked on Front Street, she saw a woman sitting on the sidewalk, her large backside spread on the sidewalk and her back resting on the brick wall of the building. Next to her was a shopping cart with all her worldly possessions stuffed into garbage bags. Donna stopped to chat.

    Morning, Rosie, Donna greeted her.

    Mornin’ Sweet-pea, the woman replied.

    Did you have a good night?

    Not bad. Had better, had worse.

    Where did you sleep?

    Up at Dolan. Dolan Park was a popular place for homeless people to spend the night when the weather began to get warm.

    Looks like it’s going to be a hot one, Donna said. We’ll be open in a few minutes.

    OK, honey. Rosie smiled.

    Donna approached the door of the building. She picked up an empty wine bottle and a couple of discarded syringes that were on the sidewalk near the door. The building was an old brick structure that had once been used as a warehouse. The bricks had been covered by several layers of grey paint that had begun to peel off. To the right of the large wooden door was a small sign in gold lettering, The Gathering Place under the street number of the building, 161 Front Street.

    The Gathering Place – more commonly known simply as The Place – was a drop-in center for people who needed it – the homeless, the lonely, the indigent. It wasn’t a homeless shelter because it didn’t provide any overnight accommodations. What it did provide was a place for people to come during the day for companionship, good meals, free clothing, a mailing address, and help with their problems.

    For many homeless people – and even for people who lived alone and didn’t have anyone to talk to – The Place was somewhere to visit, to meet friends, to get a free meal. Migrant families on their way through town often stopped there for food and some new clothes.

    As Donna took the key out of her jeans pocket, she was approached by a tall, sandy-haired man with a tattered plaid shirt and dirty pants. What time you open? he asked.

    Usual time, Tex. Eight-thirty. It won’t be long.

    Hope not, Tex smiled. I need some coffee bad.

    Donna turned the key and pushed open the heavy wooden door. She entered the dark, stuffy hallway and closed the door. She walked down the hall, past the clothes room and the quiet room, the men’s and ladies’ rooms off the hallway. Upstairs was an office, a storage room, and a small apartment.

    Donna was a 22 year old woman, just out of college. Her short brown hair framed a pretty face that always seemed to have bright smile. Her slight frame generated a bundle of constant energy.

    Donna continued down the hallway into the main room, a large room filled with tables and chairs where guests at The Place sat and ate, played cards and dominoes, or just talked. Its high ceiling gave the room a feeling of openness. Sunshine streamed in from the three large windows at the far end that overlooked the river, filling the room with brilliant early-morning brightness.

    Along the right-hand side of the main room was the kitchen, which was separated from the main room by a serving area where guests lined up for the free meals that was served daily.

    A familiar voice boomed from the kitchen. Good morning, Pixie.

    Ben was already at work, flipping pancakes on a large griddle.

    Good morning, Ben, Donna replied. How’s it going? She flashed him her usual million dollar smile.

    Just fine, Ben smiled back. Your sorry-ass Red Sox lost again last night.

    Did they? What was the score?

    The Mariners whipped them 7 – 4. They’re going to get killed this year. My boys in Cleveland are going to see to that!

    I’m not worried, Donna laughed. It’s early. It’s only May. You know my Red Sox are going to bounce back and win the pennant again. You’ll see.

    Yeah, keep hopin’ girl, Ben said. They’ll be lucky to stay out of last place this year. Want some coffee before the troops arrive?

    No thanks, Donna replied. She was never much of a coffee drinker, even though everyone raved about the coffee that Ben made.

    Everyone recognized Ben Wilcox as the heart and soul of The Gathering Place. The guests and staff realized what he meant to all of them. Ben had become hooked on drugs as a young man when he was fighting in Desert Storm, the first Iraq war. When he returned home, he turned to booze, held odd jobs here and there, did some time in jail for minor offenses, and lived his life on the streets. Then he moved into a homeless shelter for veterans, where the staff helped him clean up his act. He went into rehab and kicked drugs. Quitting the booze was a lot harder, but he attended Alcoholics Anonymous and finally managed to dry out. Ben went to work at The Gathering Place three years ago, after he had become clean and sober.

    As chief cook and bottle-washer, Ben’s home was the tiny apartment on the second floor. Ben knew the demons that most of the people at The Gathering Place were facing every day, and with his well-muscled six foot four inch frame, Ben was well able to handle any fights or disagreements that arose from time to time among the guests. Plus his time as a cook in the army had helped him become the perfect chef for the people who showed up every day for free meals.

    Donna was one of two program assistants at The Gathering Place. The other was Mark Donaldson, a student at Valparaiso University who had taken a year off from his studies to work with the homeless. This was Mark’s day off.

    Do you need any help in the kitchen? Donna asked Ben.

    No thanks, Ben told her. I’m all set. Why don’t you straighten out the main room and check on the clothes room. Some dudes were in there yesterday and they may have left a mess. I didn’t have a chance to check it before I closed up last night.

    Donna arranged the tables and chairs and was walking toward the clothing room when she heard a loud banging on the door.

    Dammit! Ben grumbled. They know we don’t open until 8:30. Can’t they wait another five minutes?

    Relax, Donna told him. I’ll see who’s there. She walked down the dark hallway and looked through the peephole in the door. She saw two men standing on the sidewalk. Both were well dressed, a tall one in a suit and tie and a shorter one in a sports jacket with an button-down sports shirt. They were obviously not part of the group who had begun to gather in anticipation of a free breakfast.

    Donna opened the door. Good morning, gentlemen, she said. Can I help you?

    The tall man spoke. I’m Sergeant Moran and this is Detective Robbins, he said. We’re with the local police department and we’re looking for Donna Sawyer.

    That’s me, Donna told them. How can I help you?

    Do you know Linda Kristaletti? Detective Robbins asked.

    Yes, I do, Donna replied. She calls herself Kristal, and she’s a friend of mine. Why?

    Well, said Sergeant Moran. We need to ask you a few questions. The people on the sidewalk began to gather around them, curious as to what was going on. Is there any place we can talk privately? the Sergeant asked.

    Sure, said Donna. Let’s go inside. As she opened the door, she thought "Good Lord, what has Kristal done now?" As they walked down the dark hallway and into the main room, Donna thought about the turbulent year that she had spent with Kristal and wondered why the police were interested in her.

    Please sit down, Detective Robbins said to Donna.

    OK, said Donna, but we open at 8:30. That’s when the guests arrive. I can only talk until then. So, she continued, why do you need to talk to be about Kristal? Is she in some kind of trouble?

    2

    Tuesday, September 15

    (Nine months earlier)

    Tuesday was a rotten day. The day before, a September cold front had swept through the city, with sheets of rain that poured from low dark clouds. The Place was packed with people trying to stay warm and dry.

    Donna was playing dominoes with Sam and Popeye, two of the regulars at the Place. Dominoes – which guests called Bones – was a very popular pastime among those who frequented The Place. She had quickly learned the game from Popeye shortly after she had begun to work at The Place. Popeye’s huge arms and bald head earned him his nickname. A man who had spent many years as a merchant seaman, Popeye had taken Donna under his wing and taught her the game. Popeye was the acknowledged Bones champion of The Place, and Donna had proven to be an excellent pupil. She caught on quickly and had already beaten some of the regulars.

    Donna looked up from the table to see a young woman standing at the end of the hallway leading into the main room, surveying the scene. She was a very pretty girl who Donna guessed was about 19 or 20 years old. She had deep- blue eyes and white skin that had a delicate porcelain quality to it. The stranger was about three inches taller than Donna. Her tan jacket, her jeans, and her sneakers were all soaking wet. Strands of soaking blond hair stuck to her forehead and cheeks.

    Donna excused herself from the game of dominoes and walked across the room to greet the young woman. When the girl saw Donna coming toward her, she quickly turned to go.

    Wait up, Donna said to her. Welcome to The Gathering Place.

    What? the girl answered.

    I said welcome to The Gathering Place. You’re soaking wet. Do you want a towel to dry off?

    No, I’m OK, the girl replied. She looked around casually. What is this dump? she asked as cold and unpleasant as the weather outside.

    This is no dump, Donna told her. This is The Gathering Place, where folks come for companionship, a free meal, clean clothes, and help when they need it. My name is Donna. Can I help you?

    Still looks like a dump to me. The hostility was still in the girl’s voice. I’m Kristal. That’s Kristal with a K.

    Welcome, Kristal with a K, Donna smiled. "I’m Donna with a D. Do

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