“So, Hassan, what is it that you are trying to do here in Woodland Park?
Ah, Sharon. As you know from your time spent in India, Sikhs are distinct from Muslims, more akin to Hindus and our way of life is committed to building community, finding a place within it and of course being able to worship freely. Today, we find ourselves without a temple, and we wish to find a placement.
And I can help you how?
I would like to have your opinion on the suitability of that small building at Stone Cold Charity...whether it might form the core of an expanded space which we could rebuild and expand into our gurdwara.
“Hmmmm. I could see how that might be of interest. Needs some updating I’m sure. It might be a little small, though the land about it would be quite adequate. Want to go out there and have a look.
“I would, Sharon. Let’s finish coffee and take a drive. We should be done before lunch would you say
Oh, yes, I would think so.
Twenty minutes later they managed to find a freshly plowed parking spot in front of Stone Cold Charity. Putting on hats and gloves, wrapped in down-filled coats, they got out and walked around the outside of the building, Sharon commenting, hard to really see what the foundation looks like with all of this snow still in the alley. Maybe we could get the city to bring over a dozer and clean it up a bit, eh, Ahmed?
“There again, Sharon. Your contacts may be invaluable.
She smiled and led him into the building, nodding to Victoria Blessing, the director of the entire enterprise and a woman whose energy, smile and commitment made Stone Cold a haven for the homeless and needy.
Hi Victoria, Sharon greeted her with a soft wave and the gentle comfort that goes with an established relationship. I'm not sure that you have met Ahmed Hassan. He is the spiritual leader of the Sikh community and they are looking about Woodland Park for a site to build a temple.?
“Ahhh! our building something that you're looking for?
Well, maybe, Sharon answered, but winter is a heck of a time to look at property and this storm has really locked things up, eh, Victoria?
It has but I could give the city a call and see if they could send a dozer around in an hour and clean the back alley. I can show you around the inside while were waiting. Whad'ya think?
Sharon looked over at Ahmed, his eyes were glancing around the interior even as Victoria spoke, but now they moved back to hers and he nodded his agreement.
Sounds good Victoria. You give em a call and we’ll sort through a few things and get a feeling for the place.
Victoria rang. Ahmed and Sharon wandered and in 20 minutes a front-end loader showed up outside the front door.
They directed it to the back of the building and there it began to clear the snow, at first working down the middle of the alley, pushing the near-slush to the end of the lot, then coming back to move the hulking figures of iced-in donations: sofas, comforters, some appliances, chairs, a dining room set, and several bags of clothing all covered by the frozen snow. Victoria commented again how hard it was to sort through goods that people just dropped off after hours.
“This last storm was awful. Snow layered for a few days, then a bit of melt, then frozen and then snow again. Terrible pile of ruined goods.
“They are gonna need some trucks to get this stuff hauled away, Sharon commented. I'll call Devlin and see if he can shake one down off the maintenance tree.
Another half hour and a dump truck quietly showed up and the loader went to work, scraping from one end of the snow-covered moguls to the other. The truck was half-filled with lost debris when the scooper blade edged into a hump that seemed to be frozen deeply in place. The operator pushed the bulge a bit. Not much improvement, and he gave it a bit of a running jolt and broke it loose.
Nothing apparently associated with furniture, it seemed to be a block of ice frozen around something not clearly visible. Sharon motioned the operator to push it forward a bit more, maybe shake some of the snow off it. He went to work on it again, and this time, it shed a few layers. Some ice, some snow, some loose clothing and then something no one wanted to see, the dirty, smeared searing of frozen, human flesh.
OH MY GOD!” Victoria screamed. THAT’S A BODY! A DEAD BODY!
Ahmed saw it too and in reflex, he reached for the small dagger in his turban, took it to hand and prepared for whatever might follow.
Sharon saw him move, reached out to reassure him and blessed herself, praying that they were looking at a natural rather than a violent death.
The loader operator looked sick, shut the engine down, refused to move it another foot. He paused for a few minutes, then climbed to ground and went over to Victoria. Gonna have to call the cops, maam.
You bet'cha, Victoria said. Call 'em right now. We're gonna go in the building and give everyone all the space they need.
“Good call, Victoria, Sharon said, and turning she said in a flat, commanding tone, let's get in there, Ahmed, now!
He moved without a sound or a comment.
Three minutes later, Chester Devlin picked up his phone in the station house and got the report. Death in the alley at Stone Cold Charity. Not too alarmed, he said to himself. Storm like this, not too unusual for someone to get caught outside, die of exposure, especially around a charitable building. Still got to get over there and see that everything is handled right, protocol and all.
He lifted his body from the chair, grabbed a coat and gloves and headed out the door. Death over at Stone Cold Charity, he told Oswald. Homeless man caught in the storm. Doesn't appear to be homicide.
Three days later, the coroner corrected him.