Leon got here first. He always did. Matt and I started giving Leon late times for our gatherings, because he showed up so early. “Dad always told me it was better to be early than late,” he’d say. Given what I knew about Leon’s father, there was probably a hand or belt backing it up.

  So Leon got to be the first one to get my hastily conjured explanation. “You know Tracy already, this is her roommate Chevy. Their apartment is getting fumigated. I offered them a place to stay so they can pocket the hotel accommodation.”

  “Nice to meet you, Chevy.” Leon extended a hand for a shake. Chevy simply shook her head, so Leon withdrew it. He turned back to me. “Is it colder in here? I feel cold.”

  The thermostat hadn’t been adjusted in a while. With all the people providing their body heat, the unconventional sleeping situations, and Carl’s dogged determination to always run the thermostat hot, the last thing it should be in here was cold.

  “Haven’t touched it,” I said.

  “Must just be bringing the cold in from outside.” Leon opened his backpack and started taking out Sleeping Gods. Leon owned most of the board games we played. It fit him anyhow. He was fastidious about keeping them organized. Crisp bags for everything, well sorted and organized, including sticky notes to note what each set was for in the larger games. It was an insane level of dedication, and Matt and I both appreciated it. Mostly because we both sucked at putting things away.

  “Jesus, that is so much shit,” Tracy remarked, almost wonderingly. Chevy looked uninterested.

  “It is a lot, but I enjoy setting it up,” Leon said. And he genuinely meant it. He liked making everything look photogenic, matching the pristine positioning of the instruction manuals. It was all so Matt could sweep in and slowly undo all of it. I tried to be conscientious of what Leon did, but I was nowhere near as perfect as he was.

  “So if you’re so invested in this, are you gonna be the one to teach us to play?” Tracy asked, goggling at the rulebooks.

  “Uh what?” Leon looked up from his sorting, staring at me over his glasses. “You told them they were playing? We’re balls-deep in this campaign. No newbs.”

  “I did not tell them they were playing,” I said, a bit strained.

  “So we’re just third wheeling it?” Tracy huffed.

  “You could always have gone to that hotel…” I responded.

  “Fucking bullshit.” Tracy crossed her arms.

  “Besides,” Leon said absently “It’s probably too complicated for you.”

  I watched Tracy’s complexion drain of what little color it had. “Oh fuck no you didn’t. I’m not going to get told I’m too dumb to play some boardgame. Give me some dice. I wanna roll.”

  “There aren’t any dice,” Leon sighed. “Are you sure it’s not cold in here?” He rubbed at his arms, slapping them the way people do to show they’re cold. “I feel like I should see my breath.”

  Tracy was glaring at him frostily enough, but I had a suspicion that this was more about the profaned apartment than the thermostat or her demeanor. I flicked the thermostat up just a bit. “I turned it up.” I started helping Leon unpack and set up the game.

  “I’m cool just watching,” Chevy offered. “Family would kick my ass at monopoly.”

  “This is much better than monopoly,” Leon said.

  “I’m going to go get some beer so they can relax a little.” Hoping Tracy wouldn’t antagonize Leon too much, I left the apartment. Unfortunately for me, the easiest place to get booze was the liquor store next to where I worked. It was a bit inconvenient running into co-workers, mostly because they all wanted to talk about work. Fortunately I didn’t see any as I ducked in to get a case of beers.

  What I wasn’t expecting was the bloom of awareness, in the back of my head. I could feel Tracy and Craig and Chevy back at my apartment. I felt Tracy’s cold anger, probably directed at Leon. Chevy’s firmly cultivated disinterest dispassionately made me aware of its monotone “present” and little else. Craig’s thoughts felt like feral kittens, all paranoia and pain. Each one could spring to mind as I thought about them. And while they were all the same direction from me, I could absolutely have pointed directly to where they were from me. If Craig left my apartment, I could knock which direction he was from me. It wasn’t perfect, I didn’t know how far it went, and streets are not the same as the crow flies. But it would be incredibly useful.

  I spent too much time mentally flipping through my congregation, feeling Tracy’s ire rise and fall. Craig and Chevy were almost complete opposites, the river rapids and the lazy river. I was too busy patting myself on the back to notice who was outside until it was too late.

  I was met with a booming baritone, “Hey QB, what are the odds?”

  Fuck.

  “Hi Smith,” I offered reluctantly, pasting an amiable demeanor on as I turned to face him.

  “Getting some brewskis for the evening? Got big plans, eh?” Smith had a bag filled with craft goods from the nearby arts and crafts shop. He loaded them into the back of his Suburban. Closing the trunk he turned his full beaming smile upon me. “You walking? I could give you a lift.”

  It was cold. I could deal with 2 minutes of Smith. And Craig wanted me to get in good with his family anyhow. “Yeah, I could use a ride. Wasn’t looking forward to carrying this back all the way to my apartment.”

  “Awesome, brother. Just hop in.”

  I loaded my backpack, bulging with the beer in the seat behind me. I then sat in the passenger seat, uncomfortably aware of the crucifix hanging from the rear-view, the fish logo on the back, the gentle Christian music drifting from the bluetooth.

  Smith sat himself in the driver seat, looking much more proportional to the massive Suburban than I did. “Hey, you give any thoughts to what I talked to you about before?” He looked at me intently, his emerald eyes boring down through my avoidant aura. “I’m serious, brother. It’s dangerous out there these days. Can’t hurt to be in a safe place for the night, yeah?”

  “I have thought about it,” I admitted. “I don’t know what to do or how to be at these things. I went to church a few times with my grandparents but I wasn’t really participating, ya know?”

  “It’s not too hard. I can help you through it. We’ll just be happy to have you.”

  I felt the words tumble from my mouth before I could appraise them- “Maybe I could grab a bite to eat with you before I go to church? Get some tips and stuff?” How weird did I sound? There was no way that was natural. But I wanted to see if there was some way to access that money for Wayward Souls.

  Smith’s smile dialed it up from sun bright to a supernova. “I could have you over for dinner. Chrissy could make dinner. She would love to meet you.” Smith’s tone showed no sign of discomfort. It was all easy confidence, the razor-sharp certainty that he was making the best choice, always. I envied him. “Heck of a cook, Chrissy. She makes a mean shepherd’s pie. You like shepherd’s pie?”

  “I uh, yeah.”

  “My man. Tomorrow evening good? Christmas is just around the corner you know.” Smith finally pulled the SUV out of the parking spot.

  “Yeah, just up the street this way. Vista View Arms. And uhh… I suppose tomorrow works.. I don’t have a car at the moment…”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  “Oh you’re right next to work, huh. Neighborhood’s all right,” Smith said. The neighborhood kind of sucked, to be frank. “I’m the other way, a couple of miles, up in the hills,” he mentioned idly. That neighborhood was more than all right. I was actually a little miffed at Smith still, working retail with the rest of us while his family gave him a dream home and a comfortable life.

  I thought of my mom at another B&B, the family home sold to finance her escapades with Daryl. I hope she and Daryl got food poisoning from the next artisanal bread bowl stew they ate. Daryl hadn’t tried to contact me but my mom still was reaching out every so often. After my call with LIzzie, I didn’t feel much like discussing things with any of them. Maybe I’d talk to Mom after Christmas.

  Maybe.

  “I can come pick you up. You work until 4, right?” Smith asked, drumming his fingers on the wheel to the inoffensive music.

  “Yeah, thereabouts. Depends on how long Sherrie keeps me over. This is my stop”

  “Which number? So I know where to park tomorrow,” Smith asked.

  “Building C over there.” I pointed vaguely in the direction of my apartment. “Just give me your number. I can text you when I’m cleaned up from work.”

  “Sounds like a plan, QB.” Smith pulled the SUV in front of the building.

  I retrieved my backpack and gave Smith a tentative wave. “Thanks for the lift, man.”

  “No problem, brother,” Smith replied. “Always gotta help each other out in this world these days. Catch you tomorrow.”

  And he pulled away.

  *****

  Matt had arrived while I was gone. Tracy knew Matt better than she did Leon and me, so he more easily passed muster. Chevy, unsurprisingly, had an apathetic response to him. Matt was sprawled on the couch next to Tracy.

  “Hey, Jeremy, you brought some refreshments.” Matt was gregarious and affable, always able to make friends, and diverse enough in his interests to have a rapport with most of our coworkers. He and Leon played Apex and got me into it. Leon got me involved in board games and managed to get Matt interested too. He did weekend watch parties for football games. He went out on the town with other buddies. In short, he was outgoing in ways I never would be. But for all his friendships and interests, he never seemed to be with anyone, not closely at least. He never seemed to date anyone for more than a few weeks. He had had multiple messy relationships with coworkers. I envied him his companionable demeanor, but I had gotten to know him well enough that in some ways the sociable soul was only skin deep. He wasn’t melancholic the way Leon could be, but some days his smile looked more painted on than others.

  “Yeah, I figured Tracy and Chevy could enjoy themselves.”

  “Oh I don’t drink,” Chevy offered. “I’m cool just watching.”

  “Okay, Tracy then?” I gave her a beer and offered one to Matt as well. Leon wouldn’t. Drinking reminded him too much of his dad. I really wanted to drink too, but was worried I’d let something slip if I indulged too deeply. Sipping a beer or two would probably be okay. Probably.

  Just one.

  Sleeping Gods was an awkward chore. Leon and Matt were both on uneven footing, out of sorts. Tracy would opine, sallying forth with suggestions and questions, then retreating with acrimonious mumbling. Chevy mostly just drank in the ambience, laughing and being not awkward. I tried to keep attention on the game. I almost succeeded.

  Because he was who he was, I had confined Craig to Carl's room. It didn't take. As we were hitting a good winding down point, the beers all drank, Tracy being almost agreeable, and Leon giving his telltale yawns, Carl's door opened. Opened violently. Leon jumped.

  Out strode Craig, disheveled and livid. He muttered darkly as he walked past all of us and into the kitchen, where he vociferously began browsing the fridge. I assumed it was still empty since the pizza had been devoured. I barely had enough to scrape together a lunch. Yet he still browsed it, his rambly monologue never quite coming to an end. “Damn it all, the larders are bare,” he proclaimed loudly without looking over at everyone, and then walked back into Carl’s room. The youtube playlist I had showing some guy making swords to keep Craig occupied gently drifted in the utter silence before Craig slammed the door again.

  “Who the fuck was that?” Matt asked.

  Silence greeted him.

  I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Well you wouldn’t believe he’s another roommate of Tracy’s. That’s uhh… that’s Craig.”

  “Okay, who the fuck is Craig?” Matt asked.

  “That’s uhhh… hmm. He's homeless. I kinda took him in.” Why the everloving fuck did he have to come out right then? Staring with all the violence I could muster with a glance at the door, I prayed that Craig would feel my vitriol and quaver. I did not hear any wailing unfortunately, and turned back to Matt and Leon’s questioning looks.

  “So I uh, started a program.” I cleared my throat nervously but tried to look them in the eye as I continued. “I had trouble with my utilities bill this month because of Carl.” (“Of course,” Matt added.) “When I went onto the website to pay the bill, I saw an offer for those with financial hardship. I took it, and was directed to a site called Wayward Souls. They gave me some money for the utility bill. I just wanted to pay it forward a little.”

  “You asked about them,” Leon piped up. “The other day.”

  “Oh yeah, I did. Same guys yeah.”

  “This a cult or something? They just gave you money, no questions asked?” Matt looked dubious.

  “Someone had to come out to audit my living situation, but that was it. Got five hundred bucks. I don’t have the money to help out someone else, but I could offer a warm bed and a shower and a hot meal to someone on the streets. But I would like to do more, maybe after Christmas.” Tracy’s eyebrows climbed as I explained. “That’s also why Tracy and Chevy are here, just trying to help out those who need it. I want to help people and then together we can help those who also need it. It’s supposed to be a season of love and giving, but it’s just fear and sadness instead. Wayward Souls helped me, and I want to give anyone else who needs it a boost too. In any way I can.”

  “Definitely a cult for sure,” Matt said.

  Leon looked more thoughtful. “So what, you just become a member and then do what? Pay dues? They can’t just be handing out money willy-nilly. They gotta have some kind of funding model.”

  “Just had to sign my name, and that was it. Became a member of Wayward Souls, no dues, no fees, nothing like that. I know you guys are hard pressed, but if you’re ever interested, just hit me up. Would love to see what we can do together.” I felt a tightness in my gut, a twisting of my throat. I didn’t want to ensorcel either of Matt or Leon, but I also didn’t know if it was too early to go public with my little venture. I thought of Matt talking in the break room, Smith overhearing it, and then bye-bye me.

  “Bro, totally a cult.” Matt nodded sagely.

  “I’ll uh, think on it, Jeremy.” Leon didn’t dismiss it out of hand, but that was kind of what I thought would happen between the two.

  “I’m not going to look at it seriously until after the new year anyhow. Too busy at work.” I gave a forced chuckle.

  “Amen,” Matt said. “I can’t wait for them to stop playing that fucking Christmas album.”

  “Right there with you,” I said. “I don’t know how you guys have put up with it for years.”

  “I just have a trauma response to Mariah Carey now.” Leon gave a halfhearted smile.

  Somehow, blissfully, we descended back into normal rote conversation. As the night wound down, and everything got packed, Matt left. He usually was the first to dip. Tracy and Chevy were in muted conversation as Leon meticulously put Sleeping Gods away. As he threw his backpack on he said “Hey, thanks for everything Jeremy. I think… I think I’d like to help you out with this ‘not cult’ thing. I get so tired of waking up to the fear, the anxiety, that I’m not doing anything for myself. Just uh… let me know?”

  “Of course man, anytime.”

  Leon departed and I turned back to Tracy and Chevy. “Hey sorry for spilling the beans early. I couldn’t think of any other way to explain Craig.”

  “I know about Craig and have no way to explain him,” Tracy muttered.

  I opened the door to Carl’s room. Craig was sleeping soundly, sprawled on the bare mattress, completely naked. My laptop was no longer showing the same videos as before, instead showing someone speed assembling jigsaw puzzles. “Hey, they’re gone, you can come back out,” I said, sharply.

  Craig’s eyes snapped open, bloodshot but alert. “More comfortable here. Can sleep without a bother. Make the lasses sleep out there. I do more for you, does Craig Baird. Can’t get a wink with the thin girl’s breathing. Have to sleep on the ground.”

  “Well Tracy is getting this bed, Chevy is getting the couch, and you have your corner. That’s how it’s going to be.” I firmed my voice as much as I could. If my congregation wouldn’t listen to me for something as routine as where to sleep, I feared for how I’d hold them together in a more volatile moment. I kept my gaze steadily on Craig as his eyes darted around the room.

  “All right all right, lay off. The corner is for me, and I shall be in the corner. Damn ungrateful you are. They all are. Someday I’ll find another congregation and then I’ll leave you in the lurch. You’ll be wishing that you had Craig Baird then, wailing ‘Why didn’t I give him more food, why didn’t I give him more drink?’ Will be living high and large and you’ll be sucking teeth.”

  “Good,” I cut him off before he could really build into his complaining. “We can talk tomorrow. I gotta go visit Smith after work. We’ll need to figure out what I should be looking for and you can help me with a plan of attack after.”

  “Ah but you need to finish the deal,” Craig returned. “You must order more Dominos. I am famished.”

  “Of course you are.”