Brian pulled out his cell phone to check the time. I was surprised he had managed to keep his phone.
"I will not lose this phone," he said. "I sleep with my gun. I sleep, I mean, I sleep with my phone." He stays alert all night, protecting Debbie and his cell phone. He has tried to call his Sergeant every day but it's leave for the whole battalion and he hasn't been able to make contact. Up until yesterday, leave had been great. But now his dog tags, passport and uniforms are all in a locker, somewhere in LA—only Debbie's friend knew where the locker was, but she had disappeared soon after they arrived on the beach.
Last night, they spent the night out on the beach where it's dark. "That way no one can see us, no one will mess with us."
Peggy, another volunteer warned, "You ought to be careful there sleeping on the beach-I wouldn't want to get run over by one of the county officers patrolling the beach in their trucks."
They looked frightened. They hadn't known the beach is patrolled at night. Peggy recommended they sleep near the pier and warned them about the “sweeps” that often occur before holidays. “What’s a ‘sweep’?" asked Debbie fearfully. “That’s when the cops come and roust everyone out of their sleep, a lot of time they don’t arrest you, they just hand cuff you and throw away all your stuff and yell at you. You know try to do really mean stuff to get you to leave town before the tourists arrive".
"You don't want to end up on skid row, whatever you do, don't let them throw you on skid row," warned a man, JT, who's been homeless for one year. "And whatever you do don't go down to Hollywood- I've worked on sets out there for years. But the streets are a shithole. Skid Row is the worst but this place is a shithole too."
I was caught by surprise--I thought JT looked like one of those rich Hollywood guys who lives on the canals.
"I'm dying of AIDS," he said calmly as he ate his bowl of greens, "and I served in the Marine Corp for five years and when I got home and found out I was sick and I couldn’t get my medicine! Finally they're doing something, but that's only cause I went nuts. I went out of my mind here on the beach."
JT told them what emergency programs they may be able to qualify for. "You might be able to get a voucher for a motel room" he said. "But those are only good for two weeks every ninety days."
Debbie and Brian looked very interested and we began to write down the names of shelters and a place to eat and shower. I noticed goose bumps on Debbie's arm. Brian was hugging his legs, clad only in his pair of swim trunks covered in flaming skulls.
"Can you be here in twenty minutes?" I asked them. "If I run home and maybe see if I can find some sweatshirts for you guys?"
They nodded. "Yeah, I'd love to have some more clothes! Last night it was freezing! We got stuck out here in our bathing suits!"
I raced my bike home and returned with two duffle bags full of warm clothes, condoms, toothpaste and shoes.
"Alright!" Brian started going through the stuff. "Hell, I ain't ashamed!" he said exclaimed cheerily.
We exchanged phone numbers and I told them to call me if they are in need of any specific items. This must be the first step towards peace, right? Extending this kindness to a soldier who wondered aloud in front of me " What if I didn't go back ?"
I asked myself does the peace movement have a bed for this man? Would he have to become the conscientious objector poster boy? Would we ask him to be ostracized by his community to join ours? Couldn't we find a place for him to sleep, in the meantime?
