Read Online Torch Red: Color Me Torn with Bonus Content by Melody Carlson - Free Book Online

into the kitchen and put your feet upwhile I’m out there working,” I tease.
    “That’s right. And we’ll probably sample some of that apple cobbler while we’re at it.” Then she gives me a little push.
    I go out and stand behind the big table that’s full of big pots and aluminum trays of food. Even though they call it a soup kitchen, they rarely serve soup here. Today it’s meat loaf, potatoes and gravy, and other things. I see the line of people and it looks longer than usual. They’re waiting for Pastor Leon to welcome them in and then bless the food. I try not to look at them too closely. Their clothes are always pretty old and worn and often unwashed, but it’s their eyes that tend to haunt me. They can’t hide their sadness or hopelessness, and I can tell they’re embarrassed by their poverty and wish they could be anywhere but here. It usually gets better after they get their food and sit down and begin eating. People begin to visit and lighten up, and Pastor Leon goes out of his way to make everyone feel comfortable. He often has someone perform music or some special kind of entertainment.
    But it’s always hardest at the beginning, as they first come into the room and approach the serving table. And this is when I usually find myself wanting to just stare down at the food.
    Fortunately, I’m a pretty good actress. So once the people start coming up to me, I force a smile to my face and I say the things I think they might like to hear. Just shallow things like how cold it is today or how great this meat loaf is or whatever. But, believe me, it’s
not
easy. The worst moment is when this girl who seems to be about my age walks up. The first thing I notice is this beautiful auburn hair that goes clear down her back in a long braid that’s tied with a ratty-looking piece of yarn. But it’s her expression that gets to me. She keeps her eyes downward and looks totally miserable about being here. And who can blame her? I mean how humiliatingwould it feel to be so desperate that you have to come to a church for free food? Even so, I try to think of something nice to say.
    “I love your hair,” I quickly say. This makes her look up and study me with what seems a bored or maybe unconvinced expression. “Really,” I try again. “The color is so beautiful.”
    “Thanks,” she mutters as she looks back down at her tray and moves through the line. But I watch her as she goes to find a seat. And I feel really bad for her. I mean not only is she eating at a soup kitchen, but the outfit she’s wearing is so bad. She must’ve gotten it out of one of those free clothing boxes piled up in the back of the church. But, honestly, her fake-fur-trimmed ski jacket looks like something my grandma might’ve worn for one season then thrown out because it was so ugly. But I conceal these thoughts, keeping my sunny smile pasted across my plastic face. Believe me, I often leave here feeling more drained than after a two-hour performance where I’m starring in the lead role. I know it sounds weird, but it’s the truth.
    Finally, the serving is done, including seconds (which didn’t last for long), and I am relieved to go back into the kitchen where I can begin cleaning up. But as soon as I start scrubbing a big pot, I hear some music starting to play, and I realize that it’s really pretty good. It sounds like a live band and so after the pot is clean, I decide to stick my head out for a quick peek.
    But I am shocked to see Nate Stein up there in the center of the little makeshift stage. He’s singing and playing lead guitar, along with a few other guys who are playing bass, drums, and keyboard. I stand there in my dirty apron next to the kitchen door, just listening until the song ends, and then I enthusiastically clap along with everyone else. These guys are really good.
    That’s when Nate notices me and gives me a surprised little nod before he introduces his band and his next song. I listen a bit longerbefore I