At one point, Arthur notices Angel pouring streams of sugar into her grape punch, her face scrunched up in delight at the impending sugar high. A crowd outside gathers under a makeshift tarp, which provides little protection from the driving rain. It's slow getting out of the building. As the wind whips the rain across those huddled in the staging area, children are constantly getting separated from their parents, dwarfed as they are in the shadows of the adults in the dark of night. Slatted crates serving as makeshift walkways lead from the building to the outdoor patio, set about a foot apart from each other, the gap between them filled with muddy rainwater, ankle deep.
Children hold a special place in the hearts of many here, women and men alike.
She sighs, trying to juggle both her own baggage and the umbrella as she scans the crowd for the child's mother. Every seat on the first bus is full. Exhaustion can be seen in most of the women's faces. Seated in front of Angel is Laura, a woman in her 40s, who is grateful for the overly warm bus, given the weather outside. Laura says she's been walking all over Sacramento that day and her asthma is acting up.