4_Unexpected Discoveries

Yang Liensheng returned to the convenience store, and the clerk looked at him in surprise.

"Brother, why are you back? Did you drop something here?"

"No, just water. Have the police finished questioning?" Yang Liensheng walked to the shelves, checked the price tags, grabbed a bucket of water, returned to the counter, paid, and asked, "Do you have a map? Can I see the surrounding roads?"

"Today is just terrible. Here's the map, look for yourself. You're out of luck; who knows when they'll catch that damn robber." The clerk casually handed Yang Liensheng an old folded map from the counter.

"Thank you." Yang Liensheng unfolded the map and felt a chill down his spine when he saw the place names on it - Arkansas, Pulaski County, Little Rock.

Glancing at the U.S. map, Arkansas was in the southern, slightly eastern location, while California was on the west coast, southwest direction - too far. How did the previous owner come here, a homeless man?

"Thank you. One more question, are there any Chinese restaurants nearby?"

"Let me think... definitely none nearby, I don't remember."

"Alright, thanks." Yang Liensheng placed the map on the counter, turned, opened the door, and left the convenience store.

...

While paying earlier, he glanced at the newspaper on the counter, 09/07/1999, Tuesday. The newspaper on the counter should be the latest, with the date and location confirmed, but for Yang Liensheng, it was truly unexpected.

Upon waking up, he had considered that being a San Franciscan from California, even if he were a homeless man, he would be local. California's vibrancy was unforgettable. Arriving in Arkansas, a place he hadn't heard much about, he could only take it step by step.

Back at the tent, the homeless people seemed to be up, their numbers increased.

"Jimmy, come over, it's time to go to the bank before there's no food left." A white man saw Yang Liensheng coming back and greeted him.

"Jimmy is a name I'm not used to. Looks like I'll have to start calling myself Jimmy more often, getting used to an English name. From now on, I'm Jimmy Yang." Yang Liensheng thought to himself, feeling somewhat helpless. He used to be accustomed to Chinese names, and even after being reborn, the first name he gave himself was a Chinese name. It seemed he still lacked experience.

"OK, let me put the water in the tent." Opening the tent, placing the water, Jimmy stood up and said to the white man who greeted him earlier, "Let's go."

As they walked, Jimmy remained silent, listening attentively to their conversation. He needed to first determine these people's names. This rebirth didn't inherit the memories of the previous owner, so he was completely unfamiliar with the people around him.

The person who had greeted him earlier was Jerry, surname unknown. Among the others, he only heard someone being called Hunter. These were the only two names he could confirm.

"Jerry, do you know of any places nearby where one can find temporary work? Short-term, a few days." Jimmy had only around $20 on him, feeling unsafe without money.

"What's going on, Jimmy? Why would you want to do temporary work?" Jerry was very surprised. The homeless people didn't have the idea of working. For them, there were food banks providing daily free meals, tents to stay in, or they could temporarily reside in churches or relief centers. There was no need to work.

"You know, I'm from California and I will eventually go back. I need to save up for the trip." Jimmy explained.

"I really don't know about that. I'll ask around for you. Homesick, Jimmy?" Jerry looked at Jimmy and nodded. Jimmy was different from him. He was nearly 50, while Jimmy was probably in his twenties.

"Thanks, Jerry." Jimmy patted Jerry on the back.

...

Arriving at the open-air parking lot, Jimmy saw their destination. Many people were already queuing up. There was a large sunshade with "Feed America" written on it by the wall, and many boxes were stacked underneath, with staff packaging food.

"Hey, Mike, what's in today's packages?" Jerry seemed familiar with the staff here, greeting an older man who seemed like a supervisor.

Mike, a white man, probably over 60, had a Mediterranean style balding head, with the remaining half of his hair turning gray.

"Hey, Jerry. Today it's burgers, but there are limited tomatoes and cabbage. Will you cook yourselves? If not, it's just burgers."

"Burgers are fine; none of us know how to cook." Jerry turned back to the end of the line without cutting in.

Observing their interaction, Jimmy asked Jerry after a moment, "Jerry, are you close to Mike?"

"Of course, we've known each other for years. He's been working at the food bank." Jerry replied.

"I see."

Taking a packaged paper bag, several people returned to their tents. Jimmy sat with Jerry, each having a burger to fill their stomachs, and packed the rest for later.

"Now, Jimmy, did you want to ask Mike something earlier?" Jerry, with his rich life experience, could tell what Jimmy wanted to know.

"Yes, does Mike need people over there? How about me working at the food bank?" Jimmy inquired.

"Forget it, if you sign up now, they'll definitely accept you. However, listen carefully, even if you go, you'll be a volunteer. Besides food, you won't get anything, no salary." Jerry shook his head, extinguishing Jimmy's idea.

"Feed America and the food bank only pay their formal employees, the rest are local recruited volunteers. It's tough to get into the food bank. They have requirements for the staff, and we wandering folks are simply not going to pass their screening. Also, don't disrupt their order, we all need them, unless you want to stay at the church. You're not a believer, right?"

"No, I'm not." Jimmy abandoned the idea of finding work at the food bank. "So, what else can I do? Work as a waiter at a restaurant?"

"That depends on opportunity. Give me some time to think of a solution." Jerry stood up and walked back to his tent, leaving Jimmy unsure of what to do next, so he crawled into his tent to rest.