Soup Kitchen Billionaire

Ella

I counted the students a fifth time now that the bus doors were securely shut, and breathed a sigh of relief. A dozen sixteen and seventeen year olds, all accounted for. Which was probably the best moment of the day, because half these students seemed to have made it their life’s goal to make my life hell.

That was why I was taking them on this field trip in the first place. It was a little out of my scope as an English teacher, but I managed to convince the admin that taking my students to volunteer at the local soup kitchen would help them empathize with the main character in the book we were reading.

Or me. Mostly me.

I dropped into the empty seat directly behind the bus driver and nodded. “Good to go.” He smiled and put the bus in gear. I reclined against the window, dead-set on getting a few minutes of relaxation before the more problematic students inevitably began causing problems. Chaos was their strongest suit.

We just had to survive the twenty minute drive across town, and the walk from the parking lot into the soup kitchen. After that, I’d have the regular staff to help me keep these hellspawn under control.

I’m sure you’re thinking that I’m being dramatic. ‘If I hate children so much, why am I a teacher?’, right? Well, I don’t hate children. Most of them are fine. But these ones? Yeah. Hellspawn.

We barely made it three blocks before Jensen popped out of his seat and sat on Mark. Mark, predictably, punched Jensen in the back of the head, and I stifled a groan. “Back to your seats! I don’t even want any of you to look at each other! Just…scroll on your phones or something, like regular teenagers.”

The pair of them rolled their eyes at me, but Jensen went back to his seat. Heaven help me come home with twelve living teenagers at the end of this! We weren’t even there and I was already questioning what idiot had taken over my brain to plan something like this.

Everyone was still alive when we pulled into the soup kitchen parking lot. The moment the doors opened, the whole class poured out like water from a broken jar. I followed them out, and heard the bus driver chuckle, “Good luck,” as he closed the door behind us.

I was going to need it.

“Alright, we are representing South High, so I expect all of you to be on your best behavior! Listen to the staff and don’t goof around. The people we’re serving today are relying on us so they don’t go hungry today. Think about David from our book, and how he must have felt having to rely on the charity of others to survive. You’ll be writing a 3-page essay on your experience today, so be thinking about what you’re going to write, as well.”

A resounding groan filled my ears, but I did my best to ignore it and herded the students toward the doors. The place was larger than I expected, actually, and far nicer. In my head it was just a shabby storefront with a window out front to hand out food, like a quick service window at Disney. But without any of the magic, obviously.

Instead, this looked more like a high-end restaurant. Inside were two dozen tables with white linens and fancy-looking cutlery. Soft music played over speakers in the ceiling, and the walls were painted a soft cream. Colorful tapestries hung down between floor-to-ceiling windows that let bright sunshine filter in.

Honestly, it felt like I’d walked into an establishment far above my pay grade. But I carefully hid my surprise behind my teacher mask and continued herding the students toward the counter.

Standing behind it was, I guessed, the man I had spoken to on the phone. “You must be Mr. Kinkade.” I held out my hand for a handshake, and marveled how my fingers entirely disappeared into his. He was much taller and broader than I had expected from the soft voice I’d heard on the other end of the call. His hair was a sandy blonde, and curled in tight ringlets against his head.

“Call me Zaiden,” he replied, a broad smile bunching up his cheeks. It wrinkled the corners of his emerald eyes and pulled his ears slightly upward. I couldn’t help staring just a little longer than I should have, but he didn’t seem to care. Instead, his eyes sparkled and he winked at me.

I felt my cheeks beginning to burn, so I pulled my hand back and cleared my throat. “Nice to meet you, Zaiden. I’m Ella Fyre, and I’ve brought lots of helping hands today. Hopefully you can keep them all busy!”

In the warmest voice I’d ever heard, Zaiden chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’m sure there will be plenty of work for everyone.” He gave me one more knee-weakening smile and clapped his hands, looking out over the group. “Now, let’s get all of you washed up and suited up. I’ve got aprons for everyone to keep your clothes clean, and we need to go over some food safety rules!”

Only Rex and Sarah started toward the kitchen door he pushed open behind him, and I was about to start barking orders. But Zaiden laughed and waved a hand, beckoning the rest inside. “Don’t tell me y’all are nervous? I have no doubt every one of you is going to have an eye-opening day, but there’s no need to be worried.”

To my surprise, instead of being offended, complaining, or refusing, the other ten students rolled their eyes and followed their better-behaved classmates into the back. I raised one eyebrow, mystified, but brought up the back of the pack.

Inside, the kitchen looked just like any other restaurant. Though unlike most kitchens I’d seen through windows or behind the counter, everything was shiny and spotless. The stainless steel surfaces gleamed in the harsh overhead lighting, and equally bright stainless bowls held the ingredients for today’s meal.

Zaiden leaned casually against the cold grill and gave the group a warm smile. “I’m so grateful to have all of you here today. We serve anywhere from 1000 to 1500 people a day, here, and our server staff is entirely made up of volunteers like yourselves.

“I bet this place isn’t what you expected, right? That’s because our benefactor believes that everyone deserves to be treated with respect. Just because someone has fallen on hard times, or suffers from circumstances that have left them in need of help, doesn’t mean they are worth less than anyone else.”

He picked up a stack of aprons and began handing them out as he continued talking. “You’re going to meet people from all kinds of backgrounds today. Some are elderly and come here for the company as much as for the food; some are barely older than yourselves and doing their best to survive in a world that gives very little. Try to get to know some of them and their stories.”

I was amazed that he’d managed to speak for so long without anyone interrupting him. Even Mark and Jensen still had their eyes focused on the man moving among the students, making sure everyone had an apron and a hair net.

After a quick overview of food safety, Zaiden put on his own hairnet and knocked on another door. Half a dozen men and women in white filtered into the kitchen, immediately getting straight to work.

“These are our chefs. You and our other servers will be asking our guests which of the two meals they would like, then these amazing people will start sending out food as fast as they can. It can be challenging, but I’m sure you are all up to it.” He took the students back into the dining area where he assigned them each two tables, and I watched from behind the counter.

The way he engaged the students was masterful. Somehow he had them hanging on his every word, when I couldn’t get them to shut their mouths long enough to get a full sentence out. I watched as the front doors opened and people began pouring inside, and as my students fell into their role.

Remember how I said an idiot must have hijacked my brain to plan this? Well, I amend that statement. This was the most brilliant idea I’d had all year. I didn’t have to do anything to keep them in line, or have to listen to any of their lip.

Zaiden returned and winked at me again. “Awesome group of kids you’ve got there, Ms. Fyre. I’ve worked with plenty of youth groups, both troubled and not, and these are really good kids.” He started bringing plates of food from the prep station and placing them on the counter so the students could pick them up.

I followed, figuring I might as well be useful as well. Also, perhaps a little bit because watching the way he smiled and joked with the chefs made my heart flutter. Which, I’ll have you know, was both annoying and out of character.

There was just something about Zaiden that drew people in, myself included. I couldn’t tear my eyes away as he wandered the dining room, laughing with the patrons as if they were his own family members. And you know? I couldn’t quite understand how he did it. I wandered out into the dining room myself and he pushed a trolley of dirty dishes my way.

“Can you take these to the back for me, and bring out the cart of new place settings? We’re short on volunteers today even with your crew, so I’ll set the tables myself.”

I nodded and pushed the tub of dirties into the back, spotted the cleans, and brought them out. Rather than retreating back to the kitchen, I started helping him reset the tables. “How long have you been working here, Zaiden? You seem to have everything mastered.”

“Since day one. It’s been about…five years now, I think? I helped gut the old restaurant that was in here, and redid the dining room myself. It’s a bit plain, but I’m still proud of it. And nobody seems to mind my lack of decorating skills.”

My eyes widened slightly. “That sounds like it was a ton of work! And what are you talking about? This place is beautiful. You could easily be serving Michelin star meals here, and nobody would bat an eye. Why do you use it as a soup kitchen, instead?”

He shrugged and accepted a stack of plates. “There are plenty of fancy restaurants for people with money. Trust me, I know all about that. But for these people? They have so few options. Like I told the kids, just because they’re homeless or food insecure doesn’t mean they don’t deserve dignity and something nice.

“Besides, it’s scary how many of these people were living normal lives, paying the bills each paycheck, and then bam. One day they’re fired, or laid off, or in an accident, and suddenly that life is ripped out from under their feet.” The smile on his face faded a few degrees, and I wondered if he knew that from experience, too.

The moment of sadness didn’t last long, though. His smile renewed and he carefully placed the silverware. “So, yeah. I’d much rather work here, helping people feel normal for a few minutes, than at any 5-star restaurant.”

I began placing glasses and shook my head. “What about the ones who could be working and choose not to? Or would rather do drugs than be productive members of society?” My eyes flickered to Jensen and Mark, my lips thinning. “Isn’t it hard to say people who brought this life on themselves deserve the same as people who fight for something better?”

Zaiden rested his warm hand on my shoulder and gave it a squeeze. It was just a brief contact, but I felt lightning crackle through my core. “Not particularly. We can’t just go around assuming the worst of people, Ms. Fyre. It’s not my business if the people here ‘brought it on themselves’ or could be doing more. Everyone deserves kindness.”