Louis Hansen (thanks, JHD): NORFOLK
Two visitors stretched the security chain on the motel door and peered through the crack. Inside, a man lay motionless on the floor.
Stay back, the motel manager told Andrea Simmons.
Police and paramedics arrived and told Simmons what she already knew: Stanley Hucks was dead.
Simmons owned Billy’s Pizza in Ocean View. Hucks was a deliveryman, soft-spoken but punctual, grumpy with flashes of warmth.
He rarely missed a shift, made great sauce and sliced through the streets of Ocean View as fast as anybody. Simmons had just bumped his pay from $5.50 to $6.00 an hour. Hucks was the best she had.
He rarely spoke of friends, family, past. He lived in a weekly rental at a bayside motel and kept to himself. His boss was his emergency contact.
As the paramedics finished, she caught a glimpse of the gurney and the form of a man draped in a sheet. Hucks died alone.
Now, his frail body and dignity were the city’s problem.
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