Her feet hurt.
The warm water feels good and helps her relax.
It's been two years since Kimberlee Horton had a pedicure.
"I think it's nice that they do this for people who are homeless and in need and need stuff like this."
She is 50, a recovering meth addict. She has a long brown ponytail and a cross necklace with sparking stones.
She sits along a long line of other homeless people whose feet are being scrubbed, too, whose toenails are being trimmed, whose callouses are being softened by volunteers.
Horton is one of hundreds of homeless people who've been walking from station to station this Friday morning inside a huge warehouse on North 27th Street, here for a one-day, one-stop event to help them find services and help.
From housing to health care to addiction information to HIV testing to haircuts.
The event is called Project Homeless Connect Lincoln. It's sponsored by the Lincoln/Lancaster Homeless Coalition, a group of area agencies, businesses and people who want to help.
Foot care.
The sign hangs on a curtain behind Horton. On the other side of the curtain, an unemployed construction worker squints at an eye chart.
***
Ramon, who doesn't want his last name in the paper, is trying to read a line of letters.
He's getting about half of them wrong, even though he's wearing his glasses.
He's homeless for the first time, he says, and has been living with friends. It feels strange to be here.
There's not a lot of construction work in the winter, he says, so he could be unemployed for a long time. He's just 51. He likes to work.
"E... D... P... F... D. I think that's it."
He knows letters when he sees them. But he's not a great reader, he says, and that's been a problem in getting another job.
A volunteer tells Ramon she's recommending him for an eye exam.
"They will contact you with times available for a doctor."
He thanks her.
Like most of the homeless people here, Ramon starts his morning with free breakfast: He has Starbucks and a plate-size pastry from LaMar's.
While he eats, a volunteer asks what services he needs, then escorts him to each station.
He ends up at a station for Matt Talbot, the soup kitchen.
Ramon knows Spanish. He offers to stay and help translate.
***
Kimberlee's pedicure is finished.
"Are you ready for shoes now?" her volunteer asks.
Someone at the People's City Mission gave her the adidases she's wearing when she lived there. They've been great shoes, she tells him. But holes let in the water.
That's why her feet hurt today.
She wants a new pair of tennis shoes. Or maybe boots.
"Whatever I can get."
She went through drug treatment at St. Monica's. She's been clean for almost three years, she says. People at CenterPointe, a treatment center, helped her get her apartment.
She did meth for two years, she says, then quit.
Before meth?
"I had a perfect life."
After meth?
"I lost my 15-year-old daughter to the state. Still don't have her back. It's hard on me. My oldest daughter has my youngest daughter.
"I was a stay-at-home mom, then a working mom. Now I'm unemployed trying to look for a new job."
She's looking to do housekeeping.
She sits down at the shoe station.
"What size shoe do you wear?"
"Size 8 to 9."
She gets a leather pair, brand new, that look as if they won't seep.
She walks over to talk to a man - her caseworker, she explains later.
He's real proud of her, she says, because just this past Sunday the man who got her on meth showed up out of the blue.
"And I sent him away."
She stuffs clothes into her plastic bags. She adds toiletries: toothpaste, toothbrush, deodorant, shaving stuff, bug guard, shampoo.
At the Lincoln Housing Authority booth, she fills out an application for public housing. She'll need to get housing on her own next year, when she's finished with the CenterPointe program.
She hopes to get her 15-year-old back. She wants a nice place for her.
Lice check.
You have to get a lice check if you want a haircut.
She walks behind a curtain. A volunteer lifts her hair gently, pulling the long strands loose from her necklace with the sparkling stones.
It was a Mother's Day gift. The man who got her on meth pulled it during a fight. The chain broke.
She carried the cross in her pocket for two years.
"I thought maybe my cat gave me fleas," she jokes as she walks away.
Her final stop is the hair station. She wants to get rid of her split ends.
While she waits, she fills out a form.
Did you get what you came for?
Yes.
What one thing did you like best?
All of it.
Someone asks Horton what time it is and she pulls out her cell phone.
She smiles at the photo on it - a pretty girl with a round face.
"That's my 15-year-old."
Reach Colleen Kenney at 473-2655 or ckenney@journalstar.com.
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