My shoe slammed into the puddle, grimy water spraying from the force of my footfall. I didn’t really need to worry about getting wet, having long since passed the point where it mattered. The cool rain blanketed my body, an early morning reprieve from the unseasonable heat that was sure to follow.
I listened to the rhythmic sloshing of my soles hitting the pavement, aching limbs finally beginning to loosen up as I ran down the wet street. From my muscles to my mind, every part of me was tense.
Sleepless nights were always a bitch. Today would be yet another day fueled exclusively by coffee and hope. Adam always supplied me with both, a hot mug and a warm smile. I wished I knew how he did it, how he stayed so serene even as our world was falling apart.
Well, my world. He still had his family, a wife and children who would love him no matter what happened this week.
I guess that was his secret, then.
Love.
How obnoxiously cliché.
I took a deep breath and ducked into a side street, yet another detour that would add time to my run. As tired as I was, I wanted to be exhausted. To be numb, past the point of caring, past the point of thinking any more about things outside my control.
By the time I made it to a row of run-down apartment complexes, the wind had picked up and was driving directly into my face. Half blind, I listened to the roar of thunder just overhead.
Like everything else in my life for the past several months, the weather was worse than I’d expected it to be. Back in the fall, rumors about our funding being cut had hit us like a ton of bricks. I’d never been particularly naive, but I had never dreamed the city would be so callous about shutting us down. Every single day, I saw the people we helped. The poverty, the struggling families, the street refugees who wanted nothing to do with drugs or gangs and had only one place to go.
Had only one place to go—past tense, thanks to the petty bureaucrats who’d decided to pay for another round of corporate tax cuts by slashing our budget. We’d fought tooth and nail, but after months of lobbying, begging, and praying, we’d only succeeded in turning the center into a pathetic charity case. Adam and I were faced with the worst possible outcome. We couldn’t even afford the rent anymore, and the only thing left was to begin emptying the building. Between moving all the heavy equipment to a storage locker and figuring out what to do with decades of old records, the job was as physically tiring as it was emotionally exhausting.
Suddenly feeling the chill in my very bones, I picked up the pace. The rec center was the last place I wanted to be right now, but at least it was warm and dry. I took a shortcut through a nearby alley, and soon the old building loomed in front of me.
I shivered.
Of course, I’d find some other place to work. A new town, a new group of disadvantaged youths to try helping. No matter where I went, I’d find people who needed me. It’s not like hurt and need were rare commodities; they were all over.
But knowing I’d be needed elsewhere didn’t help me feel better about the fact I had to abandon people who needed me here.
In the last few hundred feet, the rain picked up yet again, drenching me to the bone. I bolted across the parking lot, past Adam’s car and through the metal detector mounted by the front door of the center. My clothes were painted to my skin, a soggy mess, as I walked down the main hall.
My running shoes squelched with every step on the tile floor, the wet sound a stark contrast to the silence all around me. I’d been here early more than once, but today, there was absolutely nothing going on. No squabbles, no brawls, no fights. No laughing, no gossip, no music. There wasn’t a single sound, just old plaster walls slowly crumbling.
We were already done here, really. Friday couldn’t come fast enough.
Adam was already in his office, his door open. As I passed, he gestured at me to come inside, but all I could muster was a quick hello. I didn’t want to be rude, but we both needed some time alone. With a wave back in his direction, I continued down the hall.
A large ping-pong table was folded up and propped against the wall, with a few boxes of tattered Marvel comics to the side. Further down the hall, our old donated PCs were sitting on the floor, wrapped in dirty grey cords. In a haphazard pile lay a dozen badminton rackets, full of holes, and the set of worn-down team vests I’d managed to find sponsors for years ago had been unceremoniously dumped into an old paper bag.
I took a deep breath and sighed. Everything had to go, and my heart was probably going to go along with it.
I pushed the heavy swinging doors to the nondescript room we’d been using as a gym, cursing maintenance one last time for never fixing them. We’d almost lost more than our share of sullen, shy teens who had been determined to take a stuck door as an omen that they shouldn’t be here.