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McCoy
invited him into a small but well-organized office. Once they were
seated, the formalities got underway with the customary intake of
information, which outlined the do’s and dont’s for residents at
the shelter. Despite his estranged relationship with his parents
and two sisters, he always gave his mother’s name and number for
contact in the event of an emergency, basically his demise.
    “Breakfast will be served from seven to
eight-thirty. You’re expected to be out searching for work by nine,
except on the weekends. That’s your free time. Dinner will be
served at six-thirty….residents can stay here for up to ninety
days. If you need additional time, you can discuss it with your
case worker who will be assigned to you.”
    Landon nodded. “Thank you for your
generosity. I hope not to be here that long. I’ve got to keep
moving—”
    “I don’t know where you came from or what
circumstances caused the state you’re in,” Brother McCoy seemed to
study him, “but you first have to reconcile the past so that God
can restore anything you’ve lost. Restoration comes after
repentance. Ask God for it.”
    Maybe, it was exhaustion or irritation, but
Landon had heard enough about God for one day. He became indignant.
“What makes you think I haven’t?”
    He shrugged. “I say this to all the men who
come through those doors. Second, third, and fourth chances aren’t
a given. Only when you fix whatever was broken in the past can you
move on, or else you might slip back in the same circumstances.
Take it personal if it applies.”
    “Sorry.” Landon rubbed his head. He had
jumped to conclusions. “Long day. My past is the past. Sometimes,
instead of patching a favorite shirt, you have to replace it with a
new, better one.”
    “Ahh.” Brother McCoy grinned and nodded. “A
man with wisdom, and if he lacks any, let him ask of God who gives
it liberally without making the asker ashamed. That’s James
1:5.”
    He was starting to sound like his
grandfather. Landon feigned a yawn, hoping Brother McCoy would take
the hint. The only thing he wanted was a shower and a bed free of
lice and bed bugs. Maybe, they could bump heads in the morning. “I
really do appreciate you allowing me to stay here, and I will abide
by your rules.”
    Closing his file, Brother McCoy stood. “Then
we’ll get along fine. Come on, I’m sure you are tired.” Landon
grabbed his suitcase and followed him up a narrow passageway. They
were almost at the end of the hall when Brother McCoy tapped
lightly on the door before inserting a key to open it. “You’re on
the second floor and share a room with Grady Bacon.”
    With a name like Grady, Landon wasn’t
expecting to see a man under sixty, but his roommate appeared to be
barely a teenager outfitted in a dingy muscle man T-shirt. He
hadn’t made a move to answer the knock. Glancing up from his cell
phone, Grady acknowledged him with a nod. Brother McCoy made quick
introductions, then left.
    Landon rested his suitcase on the twin bed
that resembled a cot, but higher, then sat himself.
    “So, what you in for?”
    “Excuse me?” Landon was not interested in a
meet and greet.
    “Did you get put out…?” Grady rambled off
possible scenarios.
    With his elbows on his knees and his
shoulders slumped, Landon half-heartedly answered, “All of the
above.”
    Grady reached over and offered him a fist.
Landon obliged to bump it with his. He didn’t want to be in close
quarters in a hostile environment. Without asking, Grady told more
about himself than Landon cared to know: Twenty-one, just got his
GED, three children and recently unemployed. “Mac’s been good to
me. He got me on at Wal-Mart. I don’t want to be locked up for two
years because I didn’t pay child support. It’s only a
misdemeanor.”
    “No, a Class C Felony,” Landon corrected.
    “Whatever. I’m cool. It’s minimum wage, but
I’ve got to start somewhere.” He flexed his muscles.
    Somewhere, Landon mused.