Starring Me (24 page)
“You just woke up this morning and felt like restocking a homeless shelter’s food pantry?”
“No.” Addy laughed. “I was talking to Jonathon and he was telling me something he learned from Chad.”
“Chad Beacon?” Kara turned to face Addy. “Do tell.”
“You’re still thinking about him?”
“All the time.” Kara sighed.
Addy shot her a look before continuing. “Chad told Jonathon that he and his family have days when they go and serve others, doing lots of different things. They try to be Jesus to people. Jonathon loved that idea, so he went and helped a gardener at the White House one day.”
“Jesus helps gardeners?”
“Jesus loved others and put their needs above his own,” Addy said. “Listening to Jonathon talk about his day made me see that I don’t do that enough. I’m so wrapped up in my own world.”
“So you’re doing this to feel better?”
Addy shook her head. “I want to be more like Jesus.”
“So you’ll get, like, brownie points or something? ”
“No, we serve God because we love him,” Addy said. “Not because we’re trying to impress him.”
Kara considered that as Addy pulled into the shelter.
The girls arrived at Tampa Cares just before noon. Over a hundred homeless men, women, and children were sitting in a cafeteria eating their lunch.
“They don’t look like the homeless people on TV,” Kara whispered to Addy as they entered.
“What do you mean?”
“You know. Gray sweaters and white beards.”
“You watch way too much TV.” Addy laughed.
Kara glanced at the sea of faces. There were teenagers and young adults, some in fairly fashionable clothes. There were a few of the “TV homeless” too, with their garbage bags clutched in their laps. But overall, these were just people.
“A guy who works here told me a lot of the people here are homeless because they lost their jobs and their homes and didn’t have family or friends they could move in with,” Addy said.
“That’s terrible. I can’t imagine.”
Addy nudged her friend. “With the size of your family, you won’t ever have to worry about that.”
The girls found Ellen, the woman in charge of the food pantry, and got to work.
“I had no idea people sent so much junk to food pantries.” Kara handed yet another can of expired cranberry sauce to Addy.
“Look at this.” Addy held up a half-empty box of potato flakes.
The pantry was full of crates, some stacked with canned foods, others boxed foods, some with paper goods. Nothing looked very appetizing. As the girls sorted through the last crate for their shift, a woman just a few years older than them entered the building.
“Are you working the next shift?” Kara smiled at the woman.
“Not exactly.” The woman smiled back, revealing yellowed teeth. Upon closer inspection, Kara noted that the woman’s T-shirt was worn and her jeans were a size too big and about a decade out of date. “I was wondering if I could get some food.” The woman’s eyes watered, and Kara looked at Addy.
“I’m sorry.” The woman hung her head. “I don’t want to bother you. It’s just that I didn’t know where to go. And I’m so hungry. A friend told me I could come here.” The woman began crying, and Kara held her breath.
Addy walked over to the woman and touched her shoulder. “Of course you can get some food. But let’s go into the cafeteria. They’re between lunch and dinner, but I’m sure we can find something good for you there.”
“I’m Jalina.” The woman held her hand out to Addy. “Thank you.”
“My name is Addy.” She grasped Jalina’s hand and held it in both of hers. “I’m happy to be able to help.”
Addy guided Jalina to the cafeteria, where she was able to get her a hot meal. Addy and Kara sat with Jalina and watched as she ate her meal quickly, barely stopping to take a drink.
“Are you from Tampa, Jalina?” Addy asked.
Jalina looked up from her plate. “No. I’m kind of from all over, you know? I was born in Pensacola, moved all around the panhandle. I haven’t always been . . .” She paused. “I had a home and a family.”
“What happened?” Addy leaned in, her voice kind.
“Drugs.” The woman shrugged. “I started when I was fourteen. My parents told me I couldn’t come home if I didn’t get clean.” Jalina fought tears. “So I didn’t go home. Spent ten years doing everything I could to make money so I could buy more drugs. Made one stupid choice after another.”
“And your family?” Kara asked, finally speaking.
Tears fell down Jalina’s face. She couldn’t speak.
“You haven’t spoken to them?” Addy’s voice was soft.
Jalina shook her head, wiping her tears with a napkin.
“Would you like to?” Addy asked.
“No, I can’t,” Jalina said. “You don’t understand. When I left, they told me I can’t ever come back.”
Addy scooted her chair closer to Jalina. “Have you ever read any of the Bible?”
“Not really,” Jalina said.
“Jesus once told a story about a young man who asked for his inheritance early, then went out and spent it on all kinds of things. Worthless things. He wasted all the money his parents gave him.”
“Mmm-hmm,” Jalina said. “That’s me, right? I know.”
Kara looked at Addy.
What is she doing? Trying to make the poor girl feel worse?
“This guy got so low he was eating food the farmer threw out to the pigs.”
Jalina looked at the food on her plate and all three girls laughed.
“So what happened? Did the guy die out there with the pigs?”
“No.” Addy smiled at Jalina. “He finally got up the courage to go home.”
Jalina pushed her empty plate toward the center of the table. “I bet he got told what’s what.”
“Actually,” Addy said, “his father had been waiting for him every day, hoping he’d come home.”
“What?”
“Yes.” Addy’s smile was brighter. “He was prepared to beg for his father’s forgiveness. The man was going to ask his father if he could be a family servant. But when he got to his house, his father hugged him and called to the others to prepare a feast to celebrate his coming home.”
Jalina bit her lip. “That’s a true story?”
“It’s a parable that Jesus told.”
“A parable?”
“It’s a story that teaches a lesson,” Addy said.
“But what if I don’t have a dad like that?”
“You do.” Addy gazed deep into Jalina’s eyes.
“You mean God?”
“That was the point of that story, Jalina. To teach us that God is waiting for his children, and he will welcome us no matter what we’ve done.”
Jalina reached for a napkin. “God can’t love me. I’ve done too many terrible things.”
“God doesn’t love you because you are lovable,” Addy said. “He loves you because he is love.”
“Really?” Jalina’s eyes watered. “God really loves me? ”
“He does. And he’s waiting for you.”
Ellen walked over. “Well, ladies, how’s the meal? ”
“It’s not pig slop,” Jalina said.
Kara laughed, a deep belly laugh. Jalina and Addy joined her and Ellen looked on, her face blank.
“Sorry.” Kara took a deep breath. “No offense. Addy was just telling Jalina a story about a guy who ate pig slop.”
“The prodigal son?” Ellen asked.
“Yes.” Addy nodded.
“I love that story,” Ellen said. “I was just like him.”
Kara saw Jalina look at Ellen, taking in her white smile and shiny black hair. “You?”
“I sure was.” Ellen sat down. “I’d be happy to tell you about it.”
Kara knew that was their signal to leave. She said goodbye to Jalina, hugging her lightly, then looked back as she left the cafeteria. The young woman was listening to Ellen, nodding and crying as they walked out to Addy’s car.
“I have never seen you be so quiet.” Addy buckled her seat belt and looked at Kara.
“I didn’t know what to say. But you were like a little preacher girl. That missionary DNA keeps on coming up, doesn’t it?”
Addy laughed. “It isn’t a genetic disease.”
“No, it was good.” Kara stared out the window. “You gave that woman hope.”
“God gave her hope. But he allowed me to be part of it. That was great.”
“That was pretty great.” Kara looked at Addy. “And the prodigal son. I’ve heard people talk about that story, but I didn’t know it was about God.”
Addy didn’t speak.
“The Bible really says God loves people like that?”
“He really does love people like that,” Addy said. “All people. Drug addicts. Homeless people. Even people who don’t believe in him.”
“Oh, I see.” Kara leaned her head against the window. “I’m lumped in with the drug addicts.”
“And homeless people.” Addy grinned.
“Actually, that’s not such bad company.” Kara thought about Jalina, the hope in her eyes when Addy talked about God’s love. “Can we do that again?”
“We sure can.”
A
live audience.” Kara clapped her hands. “Awesome.”
“You’d better be careful not to look at the people in the audience like you look at those cameras.” Anna Grace smiled venom in Kara’s direction.
“Still not working, Anna Grace.” Kara walked past the blonde. “When will you learn that I am immune to your southern intimidation?”
“I’m not trying to intimidate you.” Anna Grace’s smile faded. “I’m trying to help you out. Every time I watch you, you’re looking right at the cameras. It looks very unprofessional.”
“And Kylie plays with her hands. Zoey blinks too much. Jillian’s voice is high pitched,” Kara said. “You have a criticism for everybody here.”
“I notice things, okay?” Anna Grace placed her hands on her slender hips. “And Ashley agrees with me. So maybe you’d better listen too.”
Ava joined Anna Grace and Kara. “Ashley nodded once when you said something about me needing to pull my hair back. Don’t go try to turn that into you being her favorite.”
“You’re taking her side now?” Anna Grace waved a hand in Kara’s direction.
“No.” Ava walked from the living room into the kitchen. “I’m on my side. I’ll have time for friendships after this audition is over. Until then, it’s war.”
Flora walked into the kitchen just in time to hear Ava’s last comment.
“May I offer a piece of advice, Ava?” Flora asked.
“Hmm, let me think.” Ava looked at Flora, taking in her floor-length mustard yellow sarong, her blue-black hair, and her crutches, covered at the ends with mismatched scraps of fabric. “No. Don’t think I want any advice from you.”
Ava walked off toward her room. Anna Grace waited a few seconds and then walked down the same hallway to her room.
Kara sat on a stool at the bar. “I’ll hear the advice, Flora.”
“Thank you, dear.” Flora leaned her crutches against the kitchen wall and hobbled over to the table. “I was going to tell her a quote by C. S. Lewis. He says, ‘Friendship is unnecessary.’”
“What?” Kara sat up.
Flora held up a small hand. “‘Like philosophy, like art . . . It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that gives value to survival.’”
“Okay.” Kara exhaled. “I get it. Friendship brings beauty to life.”
“Well said.” Flora smiled. “The right kind of friendship, that is.”
“I don’t think there’s any kind of friendship going on here.”
“Unfortunately, I have to agree with that assessment. And it seems that behavior like this is to be expected if you are in the entertainment industry.”
“I’ve been thinking about that too. I love acting, Flora. More than anything. But I don’t know if I’m cut out to be around all these attitudes all the time. I like my drama onstage. Not off.”
“Are you second-guessing your career choice?” Flora motioned for Kara to join her at the table.
Kara sat next to Flora and sighed. “I don’t know. I’ve never doubted that this is what I wanted. And when I’m performing . . . it’s great. I’m so happy. But then I’m done and the girls are all catty or critical. I’m worried this is what it’ll be like. I don’t know who else is on this show we’re auditioning for. What if the other actors are like Ava and Anna Grace? ”
Flora nodded. “Those are good questions to be asking.”
Kara stared at the table. “If I get this part, I’ll be working most of the school year. My schoolwork will be supervised by a teacher on set. My costar will be my classmate. I’ll be spending most of my time with him.”
“That’s true,” Flora said.
“It could be miserable.”
“Have you asked God what he thinks about this situation? ”
Kara looked at Flora. “I don’t even think I believe in him. How can I ask him what to do?”
“You don’t
think
you believe in him?”
“I don’t know.” Kara leaned back in the kitchen chair. “I’m beginning to wonder.”