Dancing to Nat King Cole's "Unforgettable"

The chairs are all taken and the mostly male crowd is hungrily eating the meal being served to them cafeteria-style.  They are all still wearing their winter coats and boots, the huge tent only providing a certain amount of warmth from the cold outside seeing as both makeshift doors keep opening and closing, allowing an icy draft in every time someone enters or leaves.

The GO Team have set up their karaoke machine on the right side of the tent and the regulars are already there, waiting for the music to start.  Stephane, a young black-haired man who had told me last night that he had wanted to slit his own throat but had decided to slash his wrist instead, is there, waiting with the microphone in his hand.  He had sang with us the day before, belting out tunes like Marjo's "Illegal" and Bon Jovi's "Dry County";  he cannot carry a tune to save his life, but he sings with all of his heart and he seems to enjoy it, so there is no harm being done.  I sing a couple of songs with him again today, my arm around him, his bandaged arm around me, just singing our lungs out like the cold outside does not matter and his attempted suicide has not occurred.

An older woman with pulled-back gray hair, a yellow coat and glasses held around her neck with a colored cord has just requested Nat King Cole's "Unforgettable".  She stands in front of the small television monitor, takes the microphone and begins to charm the restless crowd with her incredible talent.

Meanwhile, I see a man sitting down by himself, grinning toothlessly at me while I am singing along and making a fool of myself.  I decide to extend my hand towards him as though I am a very gallant man asking a pretty woman to dance;  he looks at me with an even broader and even more toothless smile and a twinkle in his milky eyes.  He takes my hand in his own weather beaten and papery soft one, stands up and puts his other hand on the small of my back.  We make small circles together, his snow hat is perched on top of his head as though waiting for the right moment to fall off and his over-large jacket is covering a very small and frail frame.

At the corner of my eye, I see another older woman standing near us and so I gently turn my dance partner around so that he can now dance with her.  They join together and enjoy the rest of the song, perhaps forgetting for a moment that they might not have a warm place to sleep later on tonight.