2021-12-01 - Hopeful Christmas Planning

The Gazette has mentioned the HOPE community centre on Spruce Street three times. Once was to announce its opening -- a short piece on page twenty-something, because no one really wants to read about the homeless people of Gray Harbor, nor be made to feel guilty for not doing anything about them. Twice to refer to it as the International HOPE Foundation, and thank you, Cassidy Bennet, for giving a reporter the idea that such a thing exists in the first place. The centre's humble looks are certainly not those of an internationally acclaimed charity -- which is apt, given that it isn't one. A handful of local folks who donate time and elbow grease, nothing more -- and nothing less.

And of course the clientele is colourful. Two such regulars occupy the front room -- once the 'shop' part of the butcher's shop that the place used to be -- each with a plastic mug of horrible instant coffee. One is Ravn Abildgaard, easily recognised in his usual black leather jacket; the other is a man in his sixties with a silver crew cut -- he is handsome in a rugged kind of way, but the impression is ruined slightly by his T-shirt: It rips off the Ghostbusters circle logo but with a fat mermaid instead, and the words THEY ARE REAL printed beneath. It's not so much that Denny from the Boardwalk is a local homeless guy; it's more than he's a local loon known to accost tourists all summer long, warning them about carnivorous sirens trying to lure people to sea in order to eat them.

The two men appear to be discussing a flyer for a local sea cruise; Captain Cris Long's Whale Safari and Fishing Trips, branding with the slogan that Dead Fish Tell No Tales. It sports a picture of a very tanned, very blond, and very muscular man, holding up a dead marlin with the kind of smile that goes plink! for a sound effect (on the man, not on the fish). For some reason, Denny seems to think Ravn ought to do something about it.

It had been a brief conversation, and while Benjamin had contemplated waiting for Ravn’s call, a brief thought about the fact it was a charity and the fact Ravn said they did most of the work themselves made Benjamin decide it was best to just poke his head in instead.

So here he was, poking his head in, quite literally the first thing through to door for a look around before he steps into the main entrance proper. He has himself a look around, eyes seeming to follow certain landmarks and supports that would likely be invisible to others, he had a binder sized planner tucked under one arm and he was in clean business casual. His fingers could be seen twitching as he thinks, maybe counting out footage or tonnage or something.

It’s probably no surprise he seemed to be unconsciously shining in that moment as well, as he got a sense for the space and what forces affected it, what it was made up of.

But finally he spots Ravn and that smiles crawls onto his face, raising a hand in a wave.

The place honestly looks like volunteer work. It's not shoddy -- some of the volunteers clearly do know what they are doing -- but the place has that random and somewhat chaotic aesthetic of somewhere no one really is in charge, and if Daisy Gordon from Posy Lane wants to do stencils of adorable puppies and sunflowers over that entire wall over there, then let her, at least it means the wall gets painted. Not that all of the murals, stencils, and paintings that decorate the place rather randomly are bad. A number of them are surprisingly high quality -- some of the volunteers have to be artists with some credit to their names.

Ravn lifts a gloved hand in a lazy wave to the contractor, no doubt recognising him from the day before. Then he looks back to the flier and to the older man and suggests, "We could go talk to him together in the morning, Denny."

The older man grunts. Then he grabs the flier and pockets it before storming off towards the back room. "Tomorrow is too late!"

Ravn winces and then shakes his head, a little apologetic. "Sorry about that, Mr Martin. Denny feels very strongly on this issue, but no one on the marina really pays him a lot of attention. It's a shame because he's right. Coffee? It's barely worthy of being used to clean industrial dumpsters but it contains caffeine."

Once upon a time, Erin mentioned wanting to help. Then things happened and she never made it in. Now she does though, and she's dressed as if she had just finished a shift at the hospital without taking the time to go home and change. Teal blue scrubs seem to complement her complexion well, pristine white name brand shoes on her feet and her ID from the hospital hanging on a lanyard, but turned around so only the back of it shows. She wears a white thermal shirt beneath the scrubs top. Her steps are light, quiet at her approach. Not that she's trying to sneak up on anyone or anything. But she does approach. "Good morning," (ish). It's a greeting anyway. Could be afternoon or evening. Her shifts keep everything crazy. "It looks like someone is decorating for a homecoming dance in here." A wry look from her at the ordered chaos.

“Ben’s fine.” The contractor is quick to correct, because while his last name was on the side of the truck, the contractor preferred business on a first name basis in his little town. And with a boyish grin to boot, it’s hard to fault that correction for rude, “But you’re gonna have to repeat yours to me, because I wasn’t totally sure I got it right the first time.” Because he hadn’t, the transgression probably qualifying him for a list of some sort, somewhere.

“What’s he talking about?” The contractor wonders about the retreating Denny, claimed to be correct. His attention slips to the entering woman, and one couldn’t really fault it, considering Erin, even in scrubs. “Hey, Ms Addington.” Simple greeting, easy smile, casual chuckle at the joke. It was a noted reversal on his first name giving, but when the name tugs your purse strings in the way it does for Benjamin, you give a little respect.

"Ravn," the man of that name repeats, not exactly a stickler for formalities either. "Hello, Erin -- please tell me you're in scrubs because you're on your way home, and not because you expect a medical emergency to happen any moment?"

He smiles and heads for a cupboard which turns out to contain a curious collection of plastic mugs all of which have just one trait in common: Not two are from the same set. They end up on the table along with a jar of cheap instant coffee and creamer, and an electrical kettle which presumably contains hot water. "It's not the fanciest coffee shop in town but then, I wouldn't want us to compete with Eleanor Roen anyhow. Pull up a chair, take a break?"

"Tell them about the mermaids!" is the only comment from the back room.

Ravn makes one of those little apologetic smiles that come with yes, my pal is rather weird but he's also kinda got a point. "Mermaids, right. Denny's dedicated his life to warning people about the carnivorous sirens in the bay. Contrary to common belief he's not insane. I've seen them as well."

"So, the first thing you do need is a coffee maker. I'll donate that." Teasing mostly about the instant coffee that he goes over to make. "Commercial kind or a regular kitchen kind. The difference is I can operate one but not the other. I got pretty adept at making coffee when I worked at Joey's Gym. I don't think Ellie would begrudge you a good coffee maker." Erin smiles, smoothing a hand over her scrubs, "On my way home. Had the really early shift."

There's a smile given over to Ben, a dip of her head before she gently corrects, "Please, call me Erin. My grandmother is the main Addington around here." Everyone had heard of Margaret. Mostly. "I imagine you are all staying pretty busy after the storm of the century?" An encouraging smile for him to share more about his work, if he is so inclined.

The mention of the mermaids draws her back to what Ravn is doing though. "I mean.. it's possible. Right?" She does move over to have a seat whether she was in that invitation or not. It beat standing around. "Is there anything you need around here though? I had offered to come before but then life got sort of hectic."

“Fine, Erin.” He’s quick to take that correction and offer a warm smile in return, appreciating the distinction just as he’d made it. Ben’s fine to follow behind and take a load off at the table, but just slow enough Erin sits first. Chivalry or chauvinism, one sometimes wonders. There’s a flat expression when the talk comes to mermaids, brows lowered. Apparently Ben didn’t really like giving voice to the weirdness and horrors, so he just remains silent on the matter.

“Yeah, Martin’s definitely scrambling. Still kind of-” He pauses, brows pinching as he tries to think and find the words, “-missing... People. Just gone. One of them, my folk don’t even remember. We’ve hired a couple guys, and I just hired a new receptionist, but we’re stretched with all the work we’re putting on the high school.”

And as for coffee? “I’m sure I’ve had worse.” He assures Ravn with an amicable grin, and would offer a hand out to accept once offered.

Coffee -- or what passes for it -- is distributed. "Things are finally winding down on our end," Ravn says and glances about the rather chaotic front room. "We have more or less managed to find solutions for everyone who had to shelter from the hurricane at the high school. The hardest were a couple of families whose properties washed into the Chehalis River -- people with local jobs can't just pick up and go visit their cousins in Indiana until insurance decides whether to pay out or try for some force majeure loophole."

He chuckles. "I don't think anyone's going to refuse a proper coffee machine, either. Part of the reason the place looks like it does is the open door policy though. Most folks who come here are pretty decent. A lot of them are taking night classes or they're in therapy groups. A number are homeless guys needing somewhere they can shower or borrow a computer. But every once in a while there's bound to be some asshole walking in, and when he does, there needs to be not much worth stealing. Kind of trying to be not worth the effort of breaking in."

That explains the geriatric computer over there, too. Old enough to be considered dead weight by the kids, not old enough to be a vintage C64 or something.

He's in no rush to push the mermaid agenda, though. Much to the disappointment, obviously, of the man in the next room who is absolutely not making certain everyone can hear him stomping around. 'Mermaid Denny' hasn't become a bit of a local legend for nothing.

Erin has never been super big into the women's liberation movement, so either way, the seating order doesn't seem to bother her. If he lingers a little for her to be seated first, and it's obvious, she'll turn a grateful smile his way, acknowledging it for what it was. With the topic of missing memories and missing people, a speculative look is given to the both of them. "I imagine there is so much work to do. At least it's helping the local job market with all of the new hires."

Accepting the coffee, even if instant, she offers a smile and a softly spoken, "Thank you, Ravn. I appreciate this." Falling silent though as she hears about those who had it rough. With a sympathetic look, she murmurs, "At least you've managed solutions. Most would be hopeless without your cause." As for the stealing, she laughs a little. "I guess L brackets and bolting down the coffee machine would at least deter a thief. Somewhat."

After a few moments, she lifts her cup and takes a sip before saying conversationally. "I also admit to having ulterior motives in coming to see you." This said to Ravn of course, she hadn't known Ben would be here.

Benjamin listens. It was true he was a local and dialed in at least to the local businesses, but the charity had sort of escaped him. The explanation seems to affect him, and he looks around for a moment, contemplating what Ravn had said. Erin’s assertion was definitely true so he shrugs, nods in agreement, and a slight smile as he recognizes an effective handy solution from the woman. Not something he’d attribute to an Addington.

“You know-“ he starts, having a thought, “If you’ve got people coming through down on their luck?” It’s phrased like a question, but is just a lead in, “We are really busy. Construction doesn’t always care about someone’s history. If you think someone’s got the will and just needs a job, send ‘em to me.”

He falls silent though, seemed Erin had an important matter to discuss.

"That's the original idea of the place," Ravn tells Benjamin with a grin. "On the job training. Whether to work up money for getting back on your feet before moving on, or getting something to put on a C.V. So yeah, I'll definitely be making a note of that offer. The amount of people who end up in Gray Harbor for reasons they can barely explain is staggering. Hell, I'm one of them -- I was going to Portland."

The Dane quirks a copper eyebrow at Erin, curiosity piqued. "Ulterior motives sounds like the back of a questionable romance cover," he replies, amused. "Little did she know that the evil baron had ulterior motives . . . Tell me what's up, Erin. It's been almost ten days since the last disaster, we're bound for one."

"Oh that's a great idea too." Erin offers to Benjamin, a smile accompanying her agreement, "Putting people to work that genuinely want to try and help themselves. I am sure there are plenty of them." Another thoughtful look towards the construction guy. "Maybe if you have business cards, leave some by the coffee pot? When I get one, of course." Apparently she still fully intends to.

Ravn's observation draws out genuine laughter from the Addington, it lightens her dark eyes with amusement. "Questionable romance cover? Have you been checking out the books on my bedside table again? I have to get my romance somewhere!" The teasing is returned fully, but not so flirty. Erin is disastrous at flirting, something she seems to realize. "Subterfuge, something I am not amazing at. I'll try though." Leaning in, she mock whispers. "See, a year back, I hosted a Feed the Hungry event in town. The building was damaged in the storm. I was wondering if this place would be a good place to host it. Or even available." Adding with a lopsided smile. "Or if you would even be interested in co-hosting it with me? We would need all of the volunteers we could get. I already have food donations promised from the local stores. And the tree and decorations to put up an angel tree so the kids could have gifts also. We'd start the angel tree now so the parents can come get the gifts before the event."

A guileless look is given to Benjamin then, "And would you be interested in volunteering your time to help serve the food also? If Ravn is agreeable to allowing the event?" A look between them as she finishes her spiel. There's a quiet hesitation, the hope in her expression. This is something important to her after all.

Benjamin’s eyebrows lift. The last flirtation he’d seen sent Ravn’s direction had gone a certain way, and the good-hearted jokes from Erin seemed close to the same. He lets his eyes comically slip between the two, but he was grinning, and blossomed into a laugh when she’d stage-whispered. The mention of business cards had Benjamin leaning slightly forward, his wallet retrieved and a card pulled from it. Strangely, he sets it near his binder without comment for a moment. He was listening and didn’t want to interrupt.

“Oh, uh...” Put on the spot by Erin, the contractor seems to wrestle with a way to respond, then seems perfectly happy to agree, “Y-yeah! Sure. For a good cause, right?” Not getting on an Addington’s good side, for sure. Or simply Erin’s specifically. No ulterior motives. Ever. “I mean, if HOPE helps host it, of course.” He realizes his agreement hinges on Ravn’s and corrects.

Ravn smiles at the idea as it is presented and then nods. "First things first. The HOPE centre isn't mine. Sure, I volunteer here and I do most of the administrative work because I have the time -- but it's not my baby alone. I love this idea, and you sure as hell don't need my permission to do it. It's the kind of thing the centre is for and you're as much part of the community as anyone. I'm definitely on board to help with it." A lot of local businesses will be too, no doubt; Benjamin's not the only local who recognises the benefits of staying on the good side of the local leading family, after all.

Hearing the laugh from the contractor, Erin gives Benjamin a smile that borders on an actual grin before her eyes drop to the card he had withdrawn. With that, of course, an idea comes and she glances around to see if there's.. "Is there a bulletin board for things like help wanted or different advertisements? Business cards to be put on display?" Maybe there was, but with the ordered chaos, she had missed it in looking around. "If there is, good idea. If not, I can add one to my list?" Not that she's seen making an actual list.

With the agreement of the both of them, she straightens from her slight lean forward and smiles with pure delight. "I realize it may not be your baby alone, Ravn, but there should be at least some commiseration between some of the volunteers here. I will organize it and if either of you have anything you'd like to do specifically, please do. Maybe get some more businesses in to donate things?" A thoughtful look before she adds, "Maybe we could get someone to play Santa and deliver the gifts at the dinner. It could be fun. Or it could be chaos." Either is very possible in this town.

Benjamin had agreed also and after the mini-planning party she settles her dark-eyed gaze on him again but this time the smile she wears holds enthusiasm and warmth. "I do appreciate your generosity in volunteering. Would you like to help organize it as well? I'm open to ideas and suggestions." A shift of her eyes to include Ravn. "From both of you."

Fun or Chaos gets a good-natured snort from Benjamin, knowing just what she meant by that. He swings his look to Ravn about the bulletin board idea, and just listens. The humble way Ravn plays it off gets a soft grin from the contractor, appreciative of someone who just wants to help without the glory in it. He might have taken Ravn to be something else before today. Erin’s question with that smile puts Benji back in the headlights however, and fool that he was, (Come on, look at all those Presence dots), he agrees.

“Yyyeah, sure.” Pause, thought secondary, “I’ve never helped run a charity event before, though, so you’ll have to give me a few pointers? Or at least go over how you did it last time?” Another brief pause, “Which doesn’t have to be today, either, I know you just got off shift.”

"The bulletin board is in the next room," Ravn murmurs.

"And it's staying in here!" comes the voice of 'Mermaid' Denny, from the other side of the door. The local loon certainly isn't eavesdropping, nope. Fortunately for the centre, he's also very good with power tools.

"Aaand I'll add your cards to it," the Dane says with a slightly exasperated smile. The most hilarious part of coordinating volunteer work is the volunteers. Hilarious to anyone who doesn't have to actually do it, anyhow. Then he leans back on his chair and looks to Erin as well. "You've done this before. Seems kind of silly to try to steal your thunder -- why don't you spearhead this project, and the rest of us will help out as best we can? Also, there's bound to be press attention and frankly, the Gazette loves the Addington name -- they're going to list you as the person in charge no matter what the actual case. Ever since the ADA for some reason tried to convince a reporter that this is a big, international operation there's a certain reporter who's on a mission to prove that it's true."

He cants his head a little. "Might be I should sniff around a little, see if we can get some of the people on board who are good at dealing with fun and chaos." He knows what that means, too.

Ravn's modesty isn't lost on Erin either but she's not convinced. "I think everyone knows the time and effort you put into this place. You put so much heart into it, how could anyone think of it as anything other than your baby?" The words are spoken with an equal measure of compliment and understanding. "Keeping out of the spotlight though, sometimes that's harder to do. Especially when you've accomplished so much." With a wry twist of her lips she adds, "Or completely made a mess of something. The reporters will always spin a story the way they see fit, no matter what the truth is. Whatever sells newspapers." Not so much pessimism, but living in the spot light so long, she's come to understand a lot about the media.

That being said, she looks grateful for the offered assistance. "Would you mind giving me a card?" His business card, she indicates the one he had withdrawn before. "I am sure I could use a search engine to find your contact information, but you're here. I'm here." With laughter in her eyes, she dips a hand in her own pocket and takes out a pencil and paper. No business cards for her! She scribbles down her name, Erin, and her cell phone number after it. Twice. Tearing it off the mini notebook, she rips it in half and slides one half to each of them. There. Her business cards! "Of course I don't mind telling you how it went last time, but I really would like additional ideas too. Maybe we could meet up soon and discuss it?"

The voice from the back has her attention straying in that direction briefly. "If you can recruit him for anything, that would be great too. Maybe distract him from.. things." The coffee is sipped again, appreciating the offering of it and not wanting it to go to waste. "Anything you can do to help would be greatly appreciated. Whether it be collecting food donations, gifts for the kids or anything. Even volunteer working would help immensely."

“Oh, this card was already yours,” Benjamin just meant to pass it maybe when Ravn was out of earshot, for reasons. But, called out, Benji does hand that over and take the reciprocal sheet of paper. He withdraws his phone and inputs the info. Taking the opportunity to sip his coffee as well. And not seeming to mind it, surprisingly. Not exactly a refined palette.

“Hey, like I said, total newbie,” Benjamin says with a joking chuckle, “So I’ll try, it just might not all be new.” Again there’s that ever so slight pause as he considers the correct approach, “Then maybe I can buy you dinner while we swap them?” Yup, there it is. Shots fired. Absolutely incorrigible Benji.

"Believe me, I know reporters," Ravn murmurs. "Spotlight is the last thing I want. It was pretty damned bad when the Veil managed to convince everyone that I was a Swedish celebrity chef. When they smell blood they're relentless. Had a few experiences back home too. Ignacio de Santos is the official HOPE spokesperson, not me. And if I have anything to say about it, it stays that way."

The exchange between Benjamin and Erin prompt a knowing grin; perhaps the Dane is not quite as oblivious to certain behaviour as he lets on. Whichever's the case, he seems to approve.

He glances at the door to the back room -- knowing full well someone's glued to it on the other side. "I think you will find it very difficult to keep Denny away. There are a lot of people who need to be warned about the mermaids after all."

There's a warning implicit in that; some of the people who use this place, who need this place, are what society politely refers to as eccentric.

"Oh!" Erin drops her eyes to the card again, accepting it from him and looking it over. After a moment, when he does the same, she inputs it into her phone. Both business and personal number if both are listed, along with his name. "I'm sure you can come up with a lot of interesting ideas. We'll make the planning of it fun." He mentions dinner and it takes a moment for her to realize the implications of that. An uncertain smile is offered, studying him just a moment before it blossoms into a fuller one. "I would like that. Just tell me when and where?" Not assuming he meant coming by her house to get her or anything.

Reporters bring her back from wherever it is she had drifted off to, Erin understands and offers an unspoken supportive look. Of course she had heard the rumors but kept out of the relaying and questioning of them at the time too. Finally, she reaches a hand over, but doesn't quite touch him. Meant to be a gesture of comfort, she just places it nearby on the table. "Sometimes Gray Harbor can be a haven from the storm but mostly, it is the storm itself. Just know you're always welcome to come over and get away from things. I've got a great garden and a nice view of the beach. It's what friends are for after all." She glances towards the mermaid man.. or the room he is in and she nods in understanding. "That's what we are here for. The people who use this place for its intended purpose."

Withdrawing her hand, she smiles back at Benjamin. "Just let me know a good time. I'll be looking forward to it." If she caught the knowing look from Ravn, she wisely doesn't bring attention to it.

There was always a chance Erin had taken it the wrong way, the innocent way, the ’Maybe I can beat the books’ kind of way. Benjamin watched for it, but there was something about how she seemed uncertain to certain, how she ’would like that’, the way her smile grew that made his grow right back. Seemed he thought that was a success.

Speaking of phones, his goes off, drooping his smile briefly as he looks down at it, reading a text message. It disappears fully thereafter brows dropping in concern, then frustration as his eyes briefly shut. The smile reappears once more, for Erin first, then a polite one for Ravn.

“Well, so much for inspecting the place. Sorry, seems there’s a worse beam crack than we thought on the school, I need to go have a look and reassess it.” Probably some incident involving some buffalo, he pushes to stand and grabs his binder, “Great to see you,” to Ravn, to Erin, a more boyish grin, “And I’ll be texting you.”

Benjamin turns toward the door, walking backward a few steps with that strangely accurate sense of space he has as he waves, then pushes out into the cold.

Ravn doesn't look very surprised; it's Gray Harbor -- the local Mr Fixit is probably the man most in demand in the entire town, right after the healers. Heaven knows he's needed the latter often enough. Wouldn't be here still, if not for a few of them. "At least business is good?"

Then he gets up as well, and as the door closes behind the contractor, he offers Erin a small smile. "Beginning of a beautiful friendship, eh? Take him up on that dinner, he seems like a nice guy. Community-minded too -- saw him do that definitely totally casual walk past close yesterday when I accidentally managed to startle a girl in the street. You know the one -- the 'is this guy giving you trouble' one."

Apparently a willingness to step in to defuse a situation earns a gold star in the book of Ravn Abildgaard.

"How about we stick our heads together sometime, make some plans? I like this idea very much. I'll be very surprised if you don't end with half the town shiny people signing on," the Dane suggests.

This is how things get started. And knowing this town, it's also where later, everyone will look back and think, that's when the trouble started.