Free Taking In Strays by Kracken Page A

that had caused him to enter into prostitution.
    “I’m not a prostitute!” Donny argued hotly.
    Dan leaned in close, expression concerned. “You’ve lost everything after being on top of the world. It’s okay to be angry. It’s not okay to be self destructive. Maybe this isn’t about prostitution, but it is possible that you might be making bad sexual choices that could hurt your rehabilitation. You need to talk about that.”
    Donny could only nod, jaw tightening on his emotions. He tapped a finger on the housing request form. “How long will this take?”
    “Families get priority, of course,” Dan replied, sitting back and putting his forms away into his satchel. “There’s a long waiting list for low income housing. It’s best to try for group homes or homeless shelters. Group housing is a more stable environment. Homeless shelters are first come, first serve. If the weather outside is bad, things get crowded.”
    “So, you can’t tell me how long this will take?” Donny summed up with a sigh.
    “Not really. Government moves at a snail’s pace and with a lot of paper work,” Dan admitted sourly.
    Donny was quiet while he filled out a work experience form. Since he’d never worked a day in his life, he could only leave blank spaces and list things that he had learned over the course of being a rich man’s son. It was woefully inadequate. When Dan slid the paper toward himself and read it, he sighed.
    “I’m afraid that I’m going to have to send you on job interviews that you may not approve of,” Dan told him bluntly. “Unskilled employment opportunities usually consist of hard labor and menial task positions.” He shuffled through a stack of notes and then pulled out a few and slid them towards Donny.
    Donny took them. He blew his nose on a tissue as he read them. Dan was correct in assuming that he wouldn’t like any of them. Donny couldn’t see himself on a road crew digging through concrete or crawling into dark places to lay pipes. He also couldn’t contemplate sorting refuse at an incinerator site.
    “What’s this one?” Donny asked, waving one note at Dan. “Fish house worker? Is that a restaurant?”
    Dan took the note, read it, and then nodded. “There’s a lot of dirty work in a fish house restaurant, Donny. It can be grueling and nasty.”
    “My dad always said, ‘Bottom to top as quick as you can.’ , to some of his aides. I used to think of it as a bad sex joke, but I suppose you start at the bottom, make a good impression, and get to the top job as quick as you can,” Donny mused. “I could be cutting up fish one day, busing tables next week, and owning the place next month.”
    Dan was cautious to say, “Donny, realistically, I don’t think that kind of thinking is good for you, right now. It might give you false expectations.”
    “Setting myself up for failure, you mean?” Donny replied glumly. He stacked his dishes neatly and then reached across the table to take Dan’s dishes as well. “I don’t think I have false expectations about anything right now, Dan. I’m just trying to put a good face on it, okay?”
    “Okay,” Dan replied. He stood and took the stacked dishes to the sink. “I’ll wash these,” he told Donny. “You go and rest. The sooner you get over this flu, the better. I’ll call the fish house and put in your application, but you can’t show up sick when you’re expected to handle food.”
    “Thanks,” Donny replied as he stood and hitched up his loose pants. “You’re a great guy, you know that?”
    Dan looked uncomfortable with the praise as he turned on the water in the sink, added dish soap, and took up a wash sponge. “I do what I can.”
    Donny hesitated, not sure that he had said enough. He owed Dan and Peter his life. He said at last, emotions running high and making his voice rough, “I don’t think I’ve ever had someone in my life help me like you two have. You don’t expect anything in return.”
    “Maybe I