A Second Chance

By Dawn Natelle

Not such a long wait between chapters: Dawn.

TUESDAY, May 31, 2016

On the bus ride in, which was now longer due to the circle route the bus took from the new house, Carly and Mikki tried as hard as possible to get Rachael to change her mind and run for Top Girl. Well, maybe not so much Carly, who said her Mom offered her a new wardrobe if she won. But Rachael was adamant, and would not be swayed.

When they finally got to school, Rachael realized that it would have taken less time to walk from Grandpa’s house to school than the bus took. Bobby’s bus went a more direct route, but if Rachael left right after Bobby’s bus did, she would be able to walk to the bakery, spend a few minutes there, and still get to school before the bus did. She decided to ask Maria to allow the school to let her walk, except when it was rainy. And with April and May over, there were less rainy days ahead.

In school on a B day the girls started with their project, which was starting to come together with only three more weeks to go. “At least we have all the filming done,” Carly commented, only to have Mikki reply. “Not if we want people at the cenotaph and stuff for the credits.

That meant that Carly’s task for the day was to create a schedule of everyone who had been in the film, and text or email them with an appointment to come to the cenotaph for their credit photo. The Legion helpers would all gather outside the Legion building for their photo. Mr. Churchill would be photographed outside the school, along with the other two teachers who had participated, even though the math teacher really only let them reschedule his classes. All the drama guys from the high school and their teacher would be shot outside the high school, which was on the same block as the middle school and the primary school.

The four girls decided that they would get Mikki’s dad to photograph them together, all saying “Thank You” before the other credits appeared. And everyone in the credits would be audio recorded saying ‘Thank You’. Mikki would dub those all together, and at the end of the film it would be inserted over a photo of Grandpa, so that the girls’ Thank You would have a double meaning, thanking those who helped with the film, and again as a thank you to all the veterans who had fought that war.

The final scene was a shot of the medal, and the words “This November, Wear a Poppy to Remember Them.”

While Carly was making the contacts for Saturday, Mikki was splicing the scenes together into a rough cut while Larissa and Rachael worked on the other computer cleaning up scenes. They were all busy through the three periods.

At lunch they all sat at the normal table, and as Rachael ate she quizzed Neal, asking if he had any sketches of Carly that they could use for Top Girl campaign posters. The artistic boy dove into the portfolio he always carried around and looked through it. “I’ve got one of you, Rachael,” he said forking over a paper, “but none of Carly. I could draw one tonight, or even in Science class if he just drones on and on again.

“This is me?” Rachael said, and she had to agree that the caricature did look like her. It was labeled Pepe, and clearly showed her black hair with blonde roots. Two months ago, the nickname Pepe really bothered her. After all, it was the name of a cartoon skunk. But since the change, she had laughed off the name and now few people were using it, since it no longer seemed to bother her.

“Sorry about the title,” Neal said, “but that was what everyone was saying back then.”

“You are really good,” Rachael said. “I bet you are looking forward to art in high school next year. “

“I’m not sure I will be going to high school with you guys,” Neal revealed. “Back in the fall I applied for a special art high school in Toronto. My grandma lives near it, or near a bus and subway ride to it, so I could live with her. I will hear sometime in the summer if I got accepted.”

“Wow. I will miss you,” Rachael said. “But you are good enough that you should do something. I guess that school is better, eh?”

“Well, when I applied it was because it was different, not better,” Neal admitted. “I was a loner here … all of us at the table were … until that day you and Mikki showed up. Now I have a girlfriend, and real friends, and I think I would miss you all if I go to Toronto. That can wait for college.”

“Wow, I thought you guys were friends before,” Rachael said.

“Not like we are now. I mean we mostly all sat together because of Robert.”

“Robert? What do you mean?”

“Well, back in our first year here, in Grade 5 there were some bullies. I got dumped in a trashcan three times in the first two weeks, and others were bullied too. Then one day Robert came by, and stood up to them, even though they were in Grade 7 and way bigger than him.”

“I’m used to fighting guys older than me. My twin brothers used to bully me at home, until JJ taught me some tricks. They could still beat me up, but I got in enough shots that they were hurt. They stopped beating me up once I started to fight back,” Robert said.

“So did you fight the bullies?” Rachael asked.

“Three times,” Neal said. “He was going to get kicked out of school for fighting. He really hurt those guys bad that last time. So me and a bunch of the other kids that were being bullied went to the principal, and told her what was really happening. They didn’t kick Robert out, but put him on probation for a few months. That’s when we all started to eat at the same table. Robert was our protection from bullies, and there really hasn’t been any bullying in school since then.”

“And I still eat with them because they stood up for me when the principal wanted to kick me out,” Robert said.

“I remember when Sean Hunt came over to the table when we first started sitting here, to tell us about Lucy filming my little story about gerunds. You stood up to protect me, didn’t you?” Rachael said.

“Yeah, I guess so. I didn’t know what he was planning on doing. I knew I wouldn’t let him hurt you.”

“My hero,” Rachael said, and leaned over and kissed Robert on the lips. His eyes widened and Rachael realized again that he was something special. A boy who stood up against bullies and for girls he really didn’t know.

After lunch it was a boring afternoon of Science and French, and then the last bell of May finally rang.

The girls went to pick up Bobby and Marc and then went to the bakery, where Rachael stopped, as the others went on, including Bobby, who would pick up his bike and helmet at Grandpa’s and then walk it until Marc could get his.

Rachael popped into the back, where she saw two very tired bakers kissing in front of the oven. Both Geoff and Maria brightened up when she teased them about making out on the job.

Rachael told her mother about her wish to walk to school, and Maria promised to phone the school. Then Rachael asked if it was all right if she went to Xcuts for a trim. “A trim, or to get rid of all that black?” Maria asked.

“To get rid of the black,” Rachael said. “A guy today reminded me how I used to get teased as Pepe Lepew, and I think it is long enough … the blonde part … for a nice short cut.”

“How much do you need?” Maria asked, going to her purse.

“None. I can cover it, I think,” Rachael said. “I’ll probably only be able to get an appointment today. Ariel is always booked solid.”

“You are only 13,” Maria said. “I still pay for haircuts.” She handed Rachael two twenties. “Enough?”

“Thanks Momma,” Rachael gave her a big hug. She then went to Geoff and said. “Do I get $40 for hugging Daddy too?”

“Get out of here, you scamp,” Geoff said, although he did enjoy the hug. As Rachael left the shop she heard him tell Maria: “It really makes all the hard work worthwhile, when they are such great kids.”

Next door at the salon, Rachael was surprised to see Ariel sprawled out in her chair, a little upset. “Fifteen minutes notice is not cancelling an appointment, it is just rude, she muttered, just loud enough for Rachael to hear.”

“Does that mean you are free? Could you give me a cut?” Rachael asked.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Ariel said, standing. “I’ve been wanting to get you into a chair since I first saw you when I opened. What did you do to your hair?”

“I was depressed. I decided to go with a Goth look last summer. I used a cheap drugstore dye job thing. There was enough left over that I was able to redo the roots once, but haven’t gotten anymore. I’d like to go back to blonde, if I can.”

“You did the roots about four months ago, didn’t you?” Ariel said. Rachael’s eyes widened. “How did you know that?”

“Most people’s hair grows about a half inch a month. You have a good two inches of blonde roots showing, so it makes sense that it has been four months. Luckily, that leaves enough blonde that we can just cut away the black. It would be a lot more work if you wanted to keep it long. Especially with an amateur dye job.”

“Short is fine with me,” Rachael said.

Ariel sat her in the chair and robed her. Then she started lifting her hair from one side to another, finally smiling. “You have a long, thin neck,” she said. “Short hair looks good if you are not too chunky.”

“I’m fat,” Rachael said.

“No you aren’t,” Ariel retorted. “And I think you have even lost weight since I first opened, haven’t you?”

“Yes, a little.”

“It shows.”

“Does it?”

“Yes, and your neck is the important thing anyway, and you have a skinny girl neck. I can give you a short and sassy look, that will make all the boys fight over you.”

“There is only one boy I care about,” Rachael said, “and he already will fight for me.”

Ariel and Rachael chatted for the next half hour, as snips of black-dyed hair fell onto the robe. Finally Ariel spun the chair around, and showed Rachael what she had done in the mirror.

“Wow, that is fantastic,” Rachael said as she looked at herself and the bright blonde hair that was now cropped close to her head, covering most of her ears, and barely an inch long in the back.

Rachael went back to the bakery, where she impressed Carol and Jennifer in the front, and then her parents in the back. She then speed-walked home and put her ham casserole into the oven. It should be ready at 6:30 when everyone got home.

Grandpa got a kiss, and she was told she looked like the pretty Dutch girls he had seen in the war, but was unable to kiss like his fellow soldiers, because he had his young wife Marie waiting for him in Canada.

Then it was off to the Stoner house, where Mikki answered the door, and didn’t know who it was until she spoke. Mikki squealed, and that brought Danni out as Rachael came in.

“It’s Rachael, Danni,” Mikki said. The little girl stopped for a second, squealed even louder than Mikki had, and then ran headlong into Rachael.

“You have hair like mine,” she gasped. “We are twins. It is beautiful.”

“So is yours,” Rachael said. “I decided I wanted really pretty hair like Danni.”

“I wish we could be sisters,” Danni gushed. “I mean, Mikki is a great sister, but we should be sisters.”

“We are sisters,” Rachael said. “Mikki is my BFF. Best Friend Forever. And that is like a sister. And if you are her sister, that makes me your sister too.”

“Oh wow, oh wow, oh wow,” the petite girl stammered. Rachael sat down, and Danni immediately climbed onto her lap.

“How is home school going,” Rachael asked. The little girl immediately lost her excited look.

“Not so good. It is nice not to be bullied, but I miss the other kids. And Mom is a hard teacher. I have to finish this French paper before she comes home.”

“Je t’aime,” Rachael said. “French is a beautiful language. Do you want me to help?’

“Yes, please. What did those words mean?”

“I love you. Je t’aime. Je is I, aime is love, and the t sound is from te, which means you. But in French it goes before aime, and the words get kinda rolled together like t’aime. Je t’aime.”

“Je t’aime,” Danni said to Rachael, and then turned to Mikki. “Je t’aime.”

“Remember that, and tell your Mom. See if she says merci beaucoup to you.”

“Mercy bough-coo,” Danni said. “What is that?”

“Merci beaucoup. Merci means thanks, and beaucoup means ‘a lot’,” Rachael said. “What do you need to learn for your Mom?”

“I need to be able to do the numbers to 20, and the days of the week. I can do up to 10 but I get mixed up on the others.”

Rachael spent a half hour with Danni, practicing her numbers, and the little girl seemed to be picking it up. That isn’t to say she would remember it after dinner, when her Mom tested her, but she did seem more confident.

“Can’t you stay for dinner?” Danni begged, and Mikki agreed.

“No, I have to run home right now and take our dinner out of the oven,” Rachael said and seconds later she was on the way home. She saw Bobby and Marc riding past her and she said “Time to go home for dinner, Bobby,” as they sped past. The boy nearly fell off his bike at the sound of his sister coming from a strange blonde girl.

“Rachael?” he asked tentatively.

“Yep. Do you like it?” she asked.

“Yeah, I do. It looks kinda like Danni’s but on a bigger girl. I like it more,” he said as he walked his bike along towards the house.

“Well don’t tell her that,” Rachael admonished. “Danni is still sensitive about her hair, and you have to tell her how much you like it.” Bobby nodded.

As they walked down the sidewalk from one direction, they could see their parents walking home hand-in-hand the other direction. They all arrived at the new house at the same time.

After supper was over, Geoff made plans to head back to the bakery to get some sleep before it was time to make the first bread. He realized that he could save time by just going upstairs after the bakery closed, but these dinners with his new family were important to him: more important than an extra hour of sleep.

“Momma, you should go with Geoff,” Rachael said. “You will be getting up in the middle of the night to go to work with him anyway. We three can look after ourselves.”

Maria hesitated, and then headed off with Geoff. “Just to sleep, and maybe cuddle a little. We will be too tired to do anything more,” she said.

“It would be nice just to spend more time with you,” Geoff suggested. He was in love, and was ignoring the fact that he spent the entire day working with Maria. But quiet time together was something lacking lately, and he was glad when she finally agreed, and went off with him. Rachael watched them walking back to work, still hand-in-hand, and smiled.

Grandpa, on the other hand, was upset. “They aren’t married yet,” he said. “That is a sin.”

“But times have changed, Grandpa,” Rachael said. Then she pulled her trump card. “I mean, I’ll bet when you were courting Marie her parents probably thought you were wild and crazy kids.”

“Oh yes,” the old man said, starting to smile. “Her mother wanted to chaperone us all the time when we were courting. Then there was the time I borrowed a friend’s old Model-T and took her down to the river to … cuddle. Her father wanted to come after me with a shotgun over that.”

The ploy had worked. Rachael knew that getting her grandpa thinking of his youth would make him less upset. But she was even surprised when he said “It is silly that they have to walk all the way to the bakery after supper. They can sleep here.”

“Together?” Rachael asked in surprise.

“Yes. They are getting married soon. It isn’t considered sinful any more for a young couple to sleep together, is it?”

“No it isn’t,” she said, hugging the beloved old man and giving him a kiss. “Have I told you lately how special you are to all of us? You are the best Grandpa ever.”

“Best Grandpa ever,” Bobby repeated from the floor, where he was reading his library books.

“Thanks kids. You all have brought a lot of joy back into my life over the past few months. You are pretty special yourselves.”

“Can you and Bobby look after each other, Grandpa? Perhaps he can read to you. He is getting to be a really good reader now.” Bobby looked up, beaming with pride. “I need to drop over to the church for about a half hour. I am teaching Pastor Helen how to make cookies tomorrow, and I need to see what they have there, and what I will have to bring along.”

She left them with Bobby on a contented Grandpa’s lap reading, and hustled the few blocks to the church, no longer as close as it was to the old house. As she walked past the old place, she saw that it was dark, although Pastor Helen’s old clunker was in the drive. Either she was in bed, or she was at the church, which was a close walk.

Rachael went into the front hall, which was still open. She had expected to have to get Gary to let her in. But the caretaker was in the hall, near the door. No less than six people were praying to the portrait John had made.

“You’re still open,” Rachael said softly to Gary, so as to not disturb those praying.

“Yes, we have kept the place open until midnight since Sunday. There has been a steady pace of people coming in. Sunday was busiest, from after services until we finally closed. I opened up at 8 a.m. on Monday, and there were already four people waiting outside. This morning there were 11, and people have been coming in all day. Monday there were a few spells when it was empty, but I don’t think it has been empty all day today. Word has gotten around.”

“I wonder why so many are coming,” Rachael said. “It is a beautiful painting, but …”

“It is special,” Gary said. “I see people coming in, worried, stressed out, even limping along in real pain. They pray, usually for a long time, and then they come out smiling or crying, but those crying show tears of joy. The ones that limped in tend to come out walking proudly and with no pain in their face. Something special happens when people pray here. I think it is like when you first met me. That kind of special. But the painting is doing it for everyone.”

“That sounds kinda unusual,” Rachael said.

“I only know what I see, and I’ve seen a lot these past three days. One man put $100 into the contributions box, and there are a lot of twenties. There are others who can’t afford to contribute, and many of them have come up to me and told me why. I tell them that Jesus will wait, and they can contribute when their lives are better. They leave happy, and it makes me happy. I loved this job before, but now it is just wonderful, watching people’s lives turn around.”

“There was a couple who came in this morning, barely talking to each other. When they kneeled down to pray, they took spots as far as possible from each other. After about five minutes, he got up and moved next to her, and she took his hand. They prayed for another half hour, and when they got up he put $40 in the box, and she told him to put in another $40. They came up to me, hand-in-hand, and told me that their prayers told them that they needed to work out their problems. She said: ‘I think our problems are gone. They were little things that we blew out of proportion, and it was challenging our marriage.’ They left arm-in-arm, looking like young lovers, not adults in their mid thirties,” Gary said. “Rachael, that painting is magic.”

“Not magic,” Rachael said, “but it sounds like God is working through it, somehow.”

Rachael then headed down to the kitchen as one of the praying men finally got up and approached Gary, with a massive smile on his face.

Rachael was nearly done checking the supplies, and had a small list of things to bring from home when she heard the booming voice of the deacon in the basement dinning hall. She didn’t want to eavesdrop, but she was holding a pantry door open that had a lot of pots and pans on it. She knew she couldn’t close the door without making a racket, so she overheard this: “You knew when you started here that it was only a temporary job, until the regular pastor was well again. He is now to the point where he can handle the job. The synod in Toronto gave us three months salary for you, as we couldn’t make do on our local contributions.”

“I knew all that,” Rachael recognized the voice of Pastor Helen, and immediately worried that she was listening to the young pastor getting fired. “I really love this congregation though, and we were moving things along so well. There is a bake sale this Saturday, and a special dinner on Wednesday.”

“For the homeless?” the deacon said.

“No. We changed it to a pay-what-you-can church dinner,” Helen said. “Gary is getting the word out to the homeless, so we expect a lot of them, but many of our parishioners have expressed interest in coming as well, just to get a mid-week chance to socialize.”

“Do you expect to make it pay?” the deacon said.

“We have a lot of donations for the first one, and we hope that the bake sale, along with a used equipment sale Gary is putting on will cover the costs. I really hope that we are starting something here that will last long after I am gone.”

“Well, don’t count on being gone so soon. Gary has spoken with many of the people who have been praying to the painting, and many of them say they are coming to the services Sunday. More than the church will hold, in his calculations. So I have decided that we will have two services each Sunday. You will give the early service, which we hope will be mainly our existing congregation, and then Pastor McNaughton will give the late service, for our new members. Thus we want to extend your contract for a full year. Are you interested?”

“Yes. Yes I am,” Helen said. “I have met so many people here. I was dreading leaving. Now … a year … that’s wonderful.”

“Think of it longer than a year,” the deacon said. “Pastor McNaughton is several years past retirement age. And I know he thinks highly of you. I’m pretty sure he would retire rather than send you away, if the effects of the painting ever taper off to the point we cannot afford a Youth Pastor. Welcome aboard. Your service on Sunday will be at 7:30 a.m.”

“Thank you sir,” Helen could be heard as footsteps could be heard walking away.

Helen then opened the slightly ajar door into the kitchen, and saw a guilty-looking Rachael standing there.

“Oh, it is you Rachael. I didn’t recognize you with that new hairdo. It looks gorgeous. I wish I could do something with my limp blahness.”

“I am so sorry,” Rachael said. “I didn’t mean to overhear anything, but I was in, checking on what we needed for tomorrow.

“You heard? Isn’t it wonderful? I thought he was going to cancel my contract at first, but instead he extended it. And it sounds like it will be permanent. I’m so happy I could dance,” Helen said, and to prove it she grabbed Rachael’s hands and swung her around.

“And your hair looks fine,” Rachael told the giggling Pastor. “I know a certain police officer who thinks it looks wonderful.”

“Steve,” Helen gushed. “We have talked about … things. But with me on a short-term contract … Do you know that he was willing to wait until I got a permanent posting somewhere else, and then apply to the local police force there? And now I practically have a permanent posting here. Isn’t it wonderful.”

“I didn’t know that you and Steve were so far along,” Rachael said. “He is a great guy. I’m so happy for you.”

“He hasn’t bought a ring yet, or at least I don’t think he has. And he hasn’t asked yet, but I think it will be soon. Especially now.”

“I wish I could stay and celebrate with you,” Rachael said. “But I’ve been here longer than I expected, and I have to get home to put Bobby to bed.” And Grandpa, she thought.

“And I will have to get on the Church Ladies calling lists tomorrow and let them know about the early service. Should we call it a Sunrise Service? You and your family are notified, right? We won’t call you.”

Rachael left with her list, as Helen danced back towards her office.

Rachael got home over an hour after she had left, and found a worn-out Grandpa telling Bobby war stories. Bobby was changing. When he first met Grandpa he had loved the stories of battles and fighting. But now, after the many remembrances Grandpa had shared at their suppers, he was more interested in the stories of times where the soldiers helped the French and later the Dutch citizens try to get their lives together after the war.

There was relief on his face when Rachael ordered Bobby up to his bath, and Grandpa was ready for bed himself. Rachael helped him to his room, and unbuttoned his shirt, replacing it with his blue pyjama tops. Once he was in bed, she kissed him, apologizing for being away so long.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he said. “I love the boy, and he is so good. It is like his youth is making me young again. Both of you listen to my stories of the old days, and that makes me feel that age again, even if it is just while I am talking.”

Bobby, in spite of all the stories and reading he had done with Grandpa still insisted on a half hour with Rachael and Harry Potter. He soon nodded off, and left Rachael to get ready for bed herself.

Dear Lord

Thank you for having Pastor Helen get a regular posting. She has done so much for the church in only a few weeks, and there is so much more she is working on. Please kick Steve in the butt to get him to propose. And thank you for finding me such a great guy myself. I didn’t know that he had fought to stop bullying in the school. What a special boy. I hope we can be in love forever. I’ll have to get him to come to see the painting. Is it really that special? A tool for you to make people’s lives better? If it is, then thanks for letting it happen here, at our little church.

I hope you get this message. I am a blonde now. I’ll try not to bounce too much of the sunlight back at you.

I love you. Amen.