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    CLJobe
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

A Child's Haven - 7. Chapter 7

That night at dinner, I told mom and dad about hiring a cook for Sanctuary. They wanted to know all about it and how I found a cook. “Dad, I think I’m going to need an accountant. I now have an employee, so I need to be sure all the regulations are met, and I also want to get a 501c classification so if you or Mom or anyone who donates their time or clothes can deduct their contribution from their income taxes.”

“I’ll send someone from the office over tomorrow morning. I think he can help you.”

The next morning when I arrived at Sanctuary, I saw Jeff talking to an older boy. “Brad, this is Andy, and he wants to know if he can stay here.”

“Hello Andy, do you mind me asking you a few questions?”

Shaking his head no, I led him to a quiet table. “How old are you, Andy?”

“I’m 19, and I don’t have any place to sleep.”

“Why don’t you tell me your story?”

He appeared hesitant at first, “It’s alright; this is just between you and me.”

“I’m gay, and when my parents found out, they told me to get out and go live with my uncle since he’s an abomination as well. My parents use to be great until they joined a new church in town. Dad’s boss was a member, and so Dad felt they should join for political reasons. Well, it turned out to be one of those churches that preached hatred and damnation to sinners, especially homosexuals. Over the last year, Dad and Mom changed. They began to preach at home, read the Bible, and questioned me about who I was seeing and what church they attended. I finally broke down and told them I was gay, and their church was wrong. Christ taught love, not hate. They hit the proverbial roof, packed my clothes, and sent me to my uncle who lived here in the city. At first, it was fine, he treated me well, and then a few months ago, he would come home a little drunk, and the hugs became uncomfortable. He’d come into my room naked and try to get in bed with me. The next morning he’d apologize and swore he would never do it again. Of course, as soon as he had a few too many, he’d continue to molest me. Fortunately, he was always too drunk to rape me, but I felt it would happen sooner or later. He started to make me uncomfortable when he wasn’t drunk. I was afraid and couldn’t take it anymore. I packed what clothes I could and left. I met a kid on the street, and he told me about this place. If you let me stay, I’ll work for my keep. All I need is a place to sleep and food once in a while.”

He looked like a good kid, he was clean, and I think he was sincere. “OK, you can stay. But tell me a little about yourself?”

“I have completed one year of college, I wanted to be a psychologist, but I guess that won’t happen now. I can cook, and I have applied at a few places in town as a waiter. But they all ask for references, proof of age, address, etc. And I can’t really provide that.”

“Yes, you can. For address, you can use this place, only use the mailing address and not the name Sanctuary, at least not yet. You can use my name as a reference, and I’d guess you have something that has your age on it. Do you have a college card or something like that, a grade transcript? Usually, they’ll accept anything that’ll look legal and confirm your age. We can even get a copy of your birth certificate. But for now, relax, and I’ll have Jeff show you around.”

I waved Jeff over, “Jeff, please show Andy around, explain the rules and get him a cocoon assignment.”

“Go with Jeff. He’s one of the volunteer staff who performs many different jobs.”

Jeff smiled as he and Andy began the tour. Beth led a young man over to where I was sitting. As he approached, I stood up. He held out his hand and introduced himself as Tony Blasio, “Your dad sent me over.”

“Yes, you must be the accountant. Please sit down, Beth, would you please bring Mr. Blasio something to drink, an iced tea perhaps.”

Tony nodded to Beth, “Tony, I’ll show you around but first some business. I have hired my first employee, a cook named Mrs. Jenkins. So I need two things. I need to know how much to pay her, and then I need to set up an employee account. I also need to know what I must do to apply for a 501c tax certification. Do you think you can help me?”

“Your dad briefed me a little, so I had an idea of what you’d need. The employee account is textbook. That’s the simplest problem to solve. I need you to send me weekly the hours worked or a monthly salary, and I can fill out the forms and write out payroll checks. The 501c declaration is basically for charities or organizations that serve the public interest. Do the kids here, or their parents pay for them to be here?”

“No Tony, these are street kids who beg for money to eat, wear rags and sleep in doorways, alleys, and under bridges. This is Sanctuary, a place where they eat free and sleep free and safe. Eventually, I’ll finish the third floor where they’ll receive an education; I’ll find a doctor and a professional to help them through their nightmares.”

“You should have a Board of Directors; otherwise, the IRS may think this is a dodge.”

“Thanks, Tony, for the advice. I guess all I need at this moment is what I’m going to pay Mrs. Jenkins to be my cook.”

“I’ll do a quick survey and get back to you tomorrow.”

“Thanks.”

That afternoon, I called Abe and asked him to design a set of offices where the old loading dock is located. I wanted as many offices as possible and to go as high as possible.

“You know you’ll need to put an elevator in and not only for the office but for the additional floors.”

“I figured that out. The elevator for the office can be between the building and the offices. The next time you’re here, I’ll show you. I’ll even treat you to pizza.”

Laughing, how about tomorrow? I’ll be in the area anyway.”

“Sounds great.”

That night over dinner, dad and I discussed Tony’s comment he had made to dad when he returned. “Tony was very impressed with your venture. He was even impressed with the kids that were giving him the tour.”

“I’m glad to hear that Dad, I want to have a Board of Directors for Sanctuary. Tony said that it would help if we had one. He also suggested that maybe someone from Child Services, but I’m afraid some of them would want to take the kids either back to their parents or put them in a foster home. Generally, I’m not critical, but these kids have gone through a lot of trauma already.”

“I think I know someone who might have a different view on that, and she’s pretty high in the state government.”

“If you vouch for her, Mom, I’m all for it. Can you feel her out?”

“Sure, I’ll invite her to lunch, and we just might drop by Sanctuary, and I think she’ll like the cocoons.”

“I have one other favor to ask you and Dad. Will you be on my Board? You have been a part of this project, albeit behind the scenes, but now I think you need to come forward. What do you say?”

Mom and dad just smiled and nodded, yes. “I was thinking of asking Tony as well. He’s going to be handling all the financials for Sanctuary, so he might as well be on the Board.”

Mom and Dad gave me their blessing. I was lucky as they always supported me and certainly supported me in the development of Sanctuary.

Copyright © 2020 CLJobe; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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