They are walking back to their car from dropping a video at a home. A girl approaches, waif-skinny, stringy brown hair, an army green coat over a stained white shirt.
“Excuse me,” she says. “Do you all have any change?”
The young man stops. “We don’t carry cash.”
“Even, like a buck or two would help.”
“We’re ministers of Jesus Christ,” the young man says.
The girl scratches her arm, revealing track marks. “That’s nice.”
“Would you like to learn about Jesus?”
She gazes at him with a vacant expression. “Yes.”
“Do you want to come to church?”
“Do you want to learn about the word of wisdom and give up alcohol and drugs?”
“Yes.” She shifts left and right.
“Do you want to follow Jesus by getting baptized?”
“Yes,” she says. She licks her lips. “Do you have even a couple of quarters so I can call someone?”
The young man shakes his head. “We just have the Gospel.”
She nods. “Ok,” and then she wanders away.
The elders get back in their car.
“What’s up with her?” Elder Davis says.
“Heroin,” the young man says flatly.
“Is she hopped right now?”
“Probably. And trying to get money either for a bit of food or her next hit.”
Elder Davis is quiet for a few moments. “That sucks.”