Junior Year Box Set полностью

I’ll give Mr. Orange credit; he had an answer for every one of her concerns. He had an appraiser show a similar project two counties over and how home values weren’t affected. Mr. Orange even had a neighbor tell them that no one even realized the people in the homes were homeless.

He talked about the different types of homeless people, and the kind intended for this type of home was what he called rapid re-housing. Basically, it was for families that had just lost their place to live and needed something for a week to a couple of months. It wasn’t intended for the chronic homeless that seemed to be the biggest concern.

Mr. Orange then explained why he was asking for a nonconforming-use change, and not a straight-up zoning change. If the zoning for the land were changed, it would be possible to put in apartments or even a motel, according to the code. I think he had them ninety percent there, but the neighbors still had that ‘Not In My Back Yard,’ or NIMBY, mentality. It was finally my turn to talk. I wish someone would have told me what to say.

“I’m David Dawson,” I said.

“We know who you are,” Wolf called out, which got a chuckle.

“Boy, I don’t envy the Zoning Board. If this is the kind of problem that comes before you, I wouldn’t want your job. I also appreciate the concerns of the neighbors. Change can be scary. The issue, though, is we do have a homeless problem in our area.

“My first thought when Mr. Orange told me of his plans to put this in a neighborhood was that I was against it. I was like you in thinking it would be better to push it to some other area or out of town. Then Mr. Orange explained that the people needed public transportation to get to work.

“I never thought of homeless people working. I always thought they were bums that bothered you asking for money. The people he’s trying to help are the mothers with children who are escaping an abusive marriage. The family whose principal wage earner was in an accident, that then got behind in their bills and was kicked out of their apartment. It’s the kid who was in foster care until she was 18, and then the system kicked her out on the street. Mr. Orange is trying to prevent them from falling into the chronic homeless category. He’s trying to help these people get into a stable place long enough to get their life back on track.

“I don’t think any of us want to see those types of people suffer. We, as a society, need to have big-enough hearts and compassion to do what we can. I think every one of you would agree with that,” I said as I looked around the room.

“What I would ask you all to do is to get to know Mr. Orange and his staff. He wants to work with you to make this acceptable to you all. I think this is an opportunity for us as a community to do something good,” I concluded.

Ms. Downton talked to her people and came back up front.

“We would like there to be a privacy fence put up.”

“We can do that,” Mr. Orange said.

The measure passed 3–2. Mr. Orange had better not mess this up.

◊◊◊

Chapter 12 – Dip My Toe into the Political Pond Friday February 19

“Hola, Lily,” I said as I plopped down in the seat next to her.

“Hola, jefe, es un placer verte.” (Hey, boss, it is a pleasure to see you.)

“¿Por qué … uhm … tan formal?” (Why … uhm … so formal?)

“Hoy tenemos un examen,” Lily answered. (We have a quiz today.)

“¡Hijo de puta!”

Lily giggled. She’d been teaching me to cuss in Spanish.

“David!” Ms. Cruz reprimanded.

“Uh … Lo siento,” I said, embarrassed I was caught. (Sorry)

With Lily’s help, I was picking up Spanish quickly. Rosy, the James’ cook, had taught me a little while I was in LA. But between having to speak it in class and Lily tutoring me, my skill with the language was rapidly improving. I attribute a lot of it to my acting and having to learn lines. A lot of what I spouted off was simply memorized. I could still say most of the Japanese lines from my sunglasses commercial, and I had no idea what I was saying for that. Lily made me think about it and understand what the words meant. I would get frustrated because I tended to throw in a lot of ‘uhms’ as I thought about what to say.

◊◊◊

At lunch, one of the theater girls and Halle approached me.

“They say you agreed to be the lead in the play if I would do it as well,” Halle said as she fixed me with a stare.

“Hang on. I never said I’d do the lead; I only said I’d help,” I complained.

“They’ve decided to do Our Town and want you to read for the part of George Gibbs. I’ll try out for part of Emily Web, your love interest,” Halle said.

The theater girl thrust a script into my hands.

“Tryouts are Monday after school,” she said and then scampered away.

“Why do I feel like we just got roped into doing more than we planned?” I asked Halle.

“It’ll be fun.”