The Tenant: A Family

Hundreds of frightened, homeless people lined the street, waiting to put in their names for emergency housing, following a ravaging fire that devastated the downtown area of a large city. 

Pierre, a tall, dark man, stood in line patiently.

“I am a tenant,” he said to a pretty, young woman. “It is not the first time I have had to move.” He knew that following the fire, housing would be at a premium, everywhere.  

“Sir, being single, we are not likely to have priority for housing.”

“I know,” replied Pierre. “Everyone needs somewhere to live. The only thing we can do, is put our names in. Families are likely to fare better.”

“What if we were a family?”

“We would have different names.”

Pierre looked at the young woman.

“She is not unattractive,” he thought to himself. “She might have a good idea.”

“Families to the left, couples in the second line and singles to the right,” a loud voice boomed over the intercom. “We will be with you shortly.”

Pierre took the woman’s hand gently.

“I don’t know your name.”

“Deidre,” she replied quietly, as they into moved to the line designated for couples.

“For all intents and purposes, now we are a couple,” said Pierre. “I am the tenant placing the housing application. Stay close beside me.”

“If we had children it would be even better,” replied Deidre. “We could go in the first line.” 

“Wait,” said Pierre. “I will see what I can do.” He disappeared into the crowd and came back, with two young children. “This is Bonita and Francis. They don’t know where their parents are.”

“Sir, you are in the wrong line. You and your family should be in the first line. It is for families,” a woman with an authoritarian voice advised him, moments later. “You and your family are more likely to get immediate housing, in that line.”

“Thank you, Ma’am,” replied Pierre, as he moved Deidre, Bonita and Francis into the first line. “I am the tenant and this is my family.”