In the cool
early hours
of a Thursday
in September
I find my way
into Big Sky
for a couple
of doughnuts
and a cup.
Just next door
is the Goodwill
employment offices.
There they find
sheltered employment
for adults and youth
with developmental
challenges.
As I park,
hoisting myself
from the driver’s
seat;
I notice her
trying the locked door
to those offices.
Thinking nothing of it,
I continue into the coffee
shop and begin breakfast.
Soon, she is shadowing
the Big Sky entryway,
eyes as big as
hubcaps.
Dressed as modestly
as possible in her
bright green hoodie
and ankle-length denim
skirt, she stares at
us all.
Her eyes are wide with
nervousness and a searching,
a yearning for faces known
and familiar, safety.
Settling for the security
of the donut-shop’s doorway
and the sunbeam therein,
she hovers still.
Her eyes come to rest upon me.
Having been in similar
situations for what is
too-quickly becoming a
half-century, I recognize
what this girl’s thoughts
must’ve turned to.
“There’s someone like me.”
“He’s different, and thusly
the same. He’s safe here.
I will be as well.”
With her owl-eyes she looks
me up and down, focused on
my outward-turned right foot
and the crutches leaning on the
chair opposite mine.
I smile.
So does she.
I wink.
When this happens,
her face flushes to
the color of roses
and her large eyes
sparkle like emeralds.
The doorway continues
to serve as her haven from
the unfamiliar, but she’s
relaxed a little.
Full of pastry,
coffee, and the desire
to finish the task,
I make my way outside.
Rising from my seat,
gathering my crutches,
I step toward the young
lady seeking solace in
the sunbeams.
Leaning in,
I cannot help but notice
that she is quivering
with apprehension.
I say quietly:
“You have really pretty eyes.”
Her unease dissipates immediately.
Her spectacular emerald eyes relax
and she smiles with her whole self
and says:
“I know.”
*
-JBClaywell
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