“Thanks for helping tonight, Amy. With Bud still out with complications from his leg injury and Steve sick, we’ve been short-handed. It really helps a lot.”

The shelter Josh managed was a nighttime only facility open from seven in the evening to eight the next morning. But even with the limited hours, a number of paid employees and volunteers were needed to handle the constant workload.

“Oh, I’m happy to do it, honey.” I had helped Josh at the shelter a few times; preparing sandwiches, distributing socks and blankets, and giving out information on local resources to the men about jobs, health services and transportation. “And Bon Smart is bending over backwards to make me one happy employee, so they didn’t mind giving me the time off.”

“That whole situation was nuts. But I’m glad you got your job back.”

“I am too,” I said happily. Though I’d had two other jobs lined up to choose from, I liked working at Bon Smart. When Margie questioned Becky, she had admitted that she’d fired me because it bugged her that I sold more merchandise than her and that loyal customers asked for me. She was afraid I might eventually get promoted over her. After discovering Becky’s lies, Margie fired her on the spot and made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. I was rehired, given a promotion, and a nice raise. Poor Becky was pounding the streets looking for a job. I felt sorry for her…but she’d done it to herself.

As we walked up to the building that housed the shelter, we passed a string of men smoking and talking. The shelter was a drug, alcohol, and smoke free zone, so most nights a group of them would gather before bedding down for the night. Some of them were the lucky ones who had signed up at the shelter early in the morning hoping to win the ‘bed lottery’ and get a place to sleep that night. Others would have to make do under a bench or in a cardboard box out in the open. The shelter had a shortage of bed space, so a lottery system had to be used. It was crazy when I thought about it. I had bought a lottery ticket hoping to win a prize like cash or a trip, and these men signed up at the shelter to a get a lottery ticket hoping their number was picked and they would win a bed for the night.

“Well, I appreciate it,” Josh said, “and you know how thankful these men are for the help they get.”

“I know.” I smiled and greeted the men as we walked by. In the past, I would have looked away—pretended they weren’t there. But volunteering at the shelter had opened my eyes. Some of the men had become homeless due to drug and alcohol addictions. Some had worked hard, living paycheck to paycheck, but an illness, job loss, house fire or some other catastrophe had forced them out onto the streets. Homelessness was something that could happen to anyone…many of us were just one step away from it. And the worst part of being homeless, the men told me, was not being forced to sleep on the streets or in a shelter, or panhandle for money—the worst part was being ignored.

“Stop them!” A loud voice shouted.

“What the fuck!” Josh yelled.

Two men were coming out of the homeless shelter. One was carrying a large cloth bag and the other had an orange can in his hand—a gas can. As the men spotted the crowd, they dropped what they were carrying and took off running.

“They just robbed the shelter!” another voice cried out.

“What’s going on?” I asked, turning to Josh. To my shock, he was naked, his jeans and shirt on the ground. But in an instant, his body started to writhe. Small, wiry hair sprouted from his skin, his nose grew wider and longer, forming a snout and his body widened and grew broader. Then, he dropped on all fours. He had turned into a powerful, muscular wolf—an incredible sight.

He tilted his head back and roared. “Arrrrooooooooo!”

“Oh my God!” I knew that he was a wolf shifter. Even in our everyday life he was bigger and stronger than most men. He was also more sensitive to smells and sights. He was different. I’d always known he could change into his wolf form, yet…somehow I didn’t know it. I could never have imagined how it really was without seeing it before my eyes, as I had now.

I quivered as Josh roared again. Then, he took off, loping after the men we had just seen running out of the homeless shelter. It seemed like time stopped and everything went in slow motion. I heard the sounds of high-pitched screams and the crash of glass. I ran after the sounds and then saw Josh in his wolf, standing over the two men and snarling at them—a deep, guttural growl that was emanating from his soul. As I got closer I could see the men crouched down, their arms over their heads, sweat pouring from their skin as they faced the formidable animal in front of them.

“The wolf’s got them!” a man behind me shouted excitedly.

“Call 911!” another voice demanded.

But we could already hear the sound of sirens blaring down the street. As the crowd surrounded the two cowering men and police officers neared, the powerful wolf shifter turned away from the group and loped off. I walked briskly after him. By the time I caught up to him he had transitioned back and was pulling on his shirt.

I ran up to his side. “Are you ok? That was amazing!”

“The police will take care of them, and yes, I’m fine. But I need to get to the shelter—pronto.”

We quickly made our way back to the shelter but as we started to enter the building a strong stench of gasoline filled the air.

“We can’t go in there,” Josh said, pulling me back.

One of the shelter volunteers ran up to us. He was shaking. “Josh, those men tried to start a fire inside, but I scared them off. But the food…” He shook his head.

“What about the food? What did they do?” Josh’s eyes shot over to the gas can that was lying on the ground.

“They poured gas all over the food we had—including the food for the special Christmas Eve dinner,” the worker said sadly. He picked up the bag one of the robbers had dropped and looked inside. “And for what—to steal a bunch of old blankets and pillows?”

“Oh, fuck,” Josh closed his eyes. “This is unbelievable. Just unbelievable—everything is ruined.” He put his head in his hands and his shoulders slumped.

I wrapped my arms around him. It hurt so much to see him like this. I knew he had spent a lot of time and money getting donations to feed the homeless, and he had been especially excited about giving them a special Christmas Eve dinner instead of the usual peanut butter and jelly or tuna fish sandwiches and juice. All he wanted to do was help others.

“Christmas Eve is a week away,” I said, “we can still do this.”

He shook his head. “No, we’d have to start over. There isn’t enough time to get all those donations again. And I think there’s only about one hundred and twenty dollars in the food account right now.”

“I think we’ll only need about eighty dollars,” I said brightly. I couldn’t be sure, of course, but I was pretty good at predicting how much I could spend and save.

“Eighty dollars…what are you talking about? You can’t feed one hundred to one hundred fifty men on eighty dollars.”

“Oh yes you can!”

Josh arched his brows and spread his hands out. “How can you do that?”

“There’s this little thing—these little slips of paper called coupons!”