A Second Chance

By Dawn Natelle

Another short chapter, but I just finished writing Chapter 20, which is huge at 7000 words. It will be up tomorrow morning: Dawn.

FRIDAY, May 13, 2016

Classes at school were interesting for Rachael. Most of the boys from movie night were making bad Humphrey Bogart impressions, and when Larissa got on the bus in the morning the girls had serenaded her with another chorus of A Kiss is Still a Kiss. She got that at lunch too.

The big surprise at lunch was that Leon, Carly, Mark, Becca and several others from the A-list table moved over and there was now a third table in the former Nerd group. Mikki looked at her, and the unspoken communication was that they had succeeded, and now the former nerd group was the new A-list of the school

Carla explained that Layla had started speaking badly about the new group, criticizing the movie night, and saying that the sleepover had been lame. Generally, she was opposed to anything that Rachael was doing, and referred to her as ‘the overweight EMO muppet’. The others had finally just gotten fed up, and had moved to the new group, which seemed to be inviting to all. And they were welcomed in.

Rachael ignored all the infighting, and sat next to Robert, trying to get details on what would happen tomorrow. And in spite of all the new people in the group, there was no one who seemed to need the extra sandwich in her bag. She knew that there were any number of boys who would have eaten it … teen boys are eating machines. But something made her hold on to it.

She did notice Neal sitting at the table alone. Most of the boys were with their Movie Night dates. She slid over to see Neal sketching away in a notebook. “Where is Ruth?” Rachael asked.

“Her dad didn’t like the idea that she went out on a date,” Neal said. “She can’t come anymore. He says she is too young. It’s okay, we both had fun, and now whatever happens, we will already have had a first date. Not many kids can say that in Grade Eight.”

“You are taking it well,” Rachael noted. “Can I see what you are drawing in your book?”

Neal was hesitant, but then allowed Rachael to look through the book. She was impressed. The boy seemed to have real talent. About half of the book was derivative superhero sketches, with muscular men in capes, and buxom women with impossible figures. But there was also a really good sketch of Ruth, and several quite funny cartoons that Rachael was able to recognize as parody images of the teachers at the school.

“You know, you should show these to John Macarthur, a painter who just opened the new art gallery.” Rachael said.

“The one next to that good bakery?” Neal said.

“Yes. I’ve met John, and I think he would like to see your book.”

“It isn’t very good,” the boy said.

“You aren’t very old,” Rachael countered. “But John will be able to tell if you have any talent, and if you should keep working on it. He might also be able to give you some tips and pointers.”

“You think he would?”

“I bet he would. He is a really nice guy. Mention my name, I think he likes me.”

“Everyone likes you, Rachael,” Neal said. “I wish I knew why.”

“Maybe it’s because I like everybody,” the girl said, just before the bell signifying the end of the lunch rang.

At the end of the day, the usual suspects were walking home. Tony now was a part of the group, at least for the first few blocks until they got to his parents’ store. Larissa was a favored customer of Mrs DaSilva, as one of the few Italian speakers in the city. She was also a good customer, picking up more fruits and vegetables for her family. Mikki also got a smile from the cheerful storekeeper, as her son’s girlfriend, and Bobby was a favorite, getting his daily apple. When Mrs. DaSilva learned that Danni would no longer be walking with the others, she insisted that Mikki take a free apple to ‘the little girl.’

Rachael was also in an apple buying mood, and picked out a rather large sack of them. “These are all so pretty”, she mentioned to Tony’s mother. “Do you have any seconds? Ones with bruises and such?”

“Yes I do, bambina,” she said. “What you want them for? Making pies, or cider?”

“No. Treats for horses. They don’t care how pretty an apple looks. Just how nice it tastes.”

Mrs. DaSilva went into the back and brought out some windfall apples. “These are half price,” she said. “How many do you want?”

“Those are perfect. About eight of them, and about eight of the eating ones as well.”

The group then went to the bakery, where Maria was working alone on her second day on the job. Mrs. Barron had not been feeling well, so had gone home. Treats were purchased all around, although both Mikki and Rachael refrained. Larissa, who was incapable of putting on weight, could not be denied, and Bobby got another Danish in spite of also having an apple.

When they left the bakery, Rachael found that John and Paul were out, so her offer to talk to them last night had been moot. The group went past the beauty shop, which still had an “opening soon” sign on the window. After that came a gap where a power transmission line ran, and a drainage ditch went across the road and into town. Rachael looked down the easement, and saw what appeared to be a pile of old clothes on the ground.

“Look, what is that over there?” she said pointing. As she did, the pile moved a bit.

“Ugh, it’s a person,” Mikki said. “A hobo or something. Let’s get away.”

“No. He might need help. You guys stay here, and go for help if there is a problem. I need to see what it is.”

Rachael approached the pile, and indeed it was a man, sleeping or passed out on the dirt. She wrinkled her nose as she got close. The man was rather aromatic, so to speak. She bravely stuck out a hand, and pushed the man’s shoulder.

“Uhhhh,” he man groaned, and looked up at her. “He hadn’t shaved in weeks, and his hair was long and stringy, as though it hadn’t been washed in months. “Wadya want,” he groaned. “I wasn’t doin’ nuthin’.”

“Are you all right?” Rachael asked? “Do you need anything?”

“I’m hungover. And I need a drink,” the man said.

Rachael reached into her pack and pulled out a bottle of water and handed it to the man. She noticed the spare sandwich in there.

“Here,” she uncapped the water and gave it to the man. He took one small sip and spat it out.

“Thas not a proper drink,” he said. “Thas just water.”

“It it good for you,” Rachael said, putting her hand on his shoulder. “You need to keep hydrated. Water is good. It is liquor that is bad for you. I want you to stop drinking it. Have you eaten today?”

“Eaten? No not today, or yesterday. I went to the mission on Wednesday, I think. No place to eat on Thursdays. And nothing yet today.”

“Here,” Rachael fished the sandwich out of her bag. “Eat this.”

The man quickly unwrapped it and ate it in several bites. “’s good,” he pronounced. “He took a sip of water from the bottle. Water is good too.”

“What is your name? I’m Rachael.”

“Gary. Gary Sovey. Thanks Angel.”

“I won’t be around tomorrow, but here. Take two apples,” she got some of the good ones from her bag. “Eat these tomorrow, if you can’t get anything better.”

Rachael turned and walked back to her friends.

“He is okay,” she said. “He’s just had a bit too much to drink.”

“Did you just feed that man?” Mikki asked in amazement.

“Of course. I had food. He needed some. So I gave it to him.”

“Girl, you are amazing,” Mikki said as they turned and started to walk towards Grandpa’s.

* * *

Gary Sovey slept uncomfortably on the damp ground. He had passed out a few nights before, after finishing the cheap bottle of rum he had bought with the last of his welfare money. It was gone in less than two weeks, as usual, and it would be at least two weeks until he got more. Now the DTs hit. Delirium tremens. The bane of the binge drinker. The only cure was another drink, continuing the cycle.

Gary felt a poke on his arm. Probably the cops, making him move along. He had a hidey hole, but hadn’t made it there last night, or whenever he had moved to this location.

“Wadya want,” he groaned. “I wasn’t doin’ nuthin’.”

“Are you all right,” a feminine voice asked? “Do you need anything?”

“I’m hungover. And I need a drink,” the man replied. He looked at her, and nearly had to look away. He could only see a blinding white light, with the faint image of a girl within. It must be an Angel, he decided.

“Here,” she gave the man a bottle. He took one small sip and spat it out.

“Thas not a proper drink,” he said. “Thas just water.”

“It it good for you,” the Angel said, putting her hand on his shoulder. “You need to keep hydrated. Water is good. It is liquor that is bad for you. I want you to stop drinking it. Have you eaten today?”

Water was good tasting, suddenly. And the Angel said he had to stop drinking alcohol. Somehow he knew that he must do what she told him.

“Eaten? No not today, or yesterday. I went to the mission on Wednesday, I think. No place to eat on Thursdays. And nothing yet today.”

“Here,” the Angel gave him some food. “Eat this.”

He ate it, and it was the most wonderful thing he had ever tasted. “’s good,” he pronounced. “He took a sip of water from the bottle. Water is good too.”

“What is your name? I’m Rachael.”

“Gary. Gary Sovey. Thanks Angel.”

“I won’t be around tomorrow, but here. Take two apples,” she got some of the good ones from her bag. “Eat these tomorrow, if you can’t get anything better.”

Gary watched the Angel walk away. There was another group of glowing Angels in the distance, and she joined them, and then the group walked away.

He looked at the two apples she had left him. He was still a little hungry, and normally would have immediately eaten the available food. But the Angel had said he couldn’t eat them until the next day, and he knew that he had to follow the word of the Angel. He could no longer drink, and he had to wait for tomorrow to eat the apples.

He thought some more. I need to do something to pay the Angel back. What is it that he could do, a drunken wreck of a man, to make a beautiful Angel happy. He strove to fight the DTs as he pondered his problem, and then stood up and staggered towards his hidey-hole.

* * *

That night Maria came home a little after six. She now had a key to the bakery, and had spent the last two hours there alone after Geoff had gone up to sleep. She had worked at the café for 15 years, and never was trusted with a key. She was happy. She was getting home an hour earlier, giving her more time to spend with her kids, and she enjoyed working at the bakery. Geoff was everything Joe wasn’t: giving, friendly, cheerful and fair. He seemed to treat her as more than just an employee, but as a friend, or more.

Even though it was an hour earlier, Maria found that her kids still had a dinner waiting for her. It was over the dinner table that she mentioned to Rachael that she was working tomorrow. The young girl looked up with frightened eyes.

“But who will look after Bobby?” she said. “Should I phone the farm and cancel my visit tomorrow?”

“No need,” Maria said with a smile. “I talked this over with Geoff, and he said I could take Bobby in to work with me tomorrow. There is a huge pile of 40 kg sacks of flour in one corner, and that can be a fort for him to play on for a couple of hours in the morning. He will be safe up there, and can watch all the ovens and machines when he is not playing in his little army worlds.”

“But will he stay there for the whole day?” Rachael asked.

“No. I phoned Mrs. Hafleur, and we had a long talk. We both agree that the boys are getting to be old enough that they can go to the park together. Marc and another friend will walk to the bakery, and then the three of them can walk to the park and play catch, or baseball, or whatever little boys do. They will go to the Lafleur house for lunch, and maybe some video games, and then come back to the park later if they want. I think it will be good for him to get some ‘boy time’ in.”

“It sounds good,” Rachael said. “But looking after Bobby is my job. I should cancel the farm.”

“It isn’t a 7-days a week job. Even Geoff gives me a day or two off each week. You deserve a day off from looking after Bobby. Besides, how would the young man at the farm feel if you cancelled, especially at the last minute?”

Rachael thought about Robert. He would be devastated. He had been planning this day for weeks now, and if she cancelled on him it would seem like she didn’t care for him. And, to her surprise, she did. A lot.

“You are right Momma. And here I thought you and Bobby were going to sleep in tomorrow. But you will be leaving a little before 8, when my ride comes.”

After the dishes were cleared up and washed, Maria was astounded at how early it was. This was the time when she would be trudging home from the café. “What will we do with this extra spare time?” she asked.

“We should get some board games at the next yard sale we find,” Rachael suggested. “Something Bobby would like that wouldn’t bore the two of us. But until then, there is always Harry Potter. We could read here on the couch.”

“No,” Bobby insisted. “Harry Potter is for when I am snuggled into bed. We can read my other books.”

“Okay. But do you have any homework?” Rachael asked.

“Oh yeah, I have an arithmetic sheet to do. Can you help me with it?”

The three of them gathered around the dining room table, and watched as Bobby worked through the math problems. When he got to the questions at the back of the sheet, labeled ‘Bonus Questions’ he started having troubles. But Rachael and Maria helped him work through the process for each problem, and soon Bobby was understanding and able to do many of the questions on his own. By the time he was finished, he was ready for his bath, and bed, a bit early so he could have a long read of Harry Potter in his favorite way, with his sister on one side of him, and his mother on the other in his small bed.

Dear Lord, Rachael said later

Thank you again for this life. Everything is going great, especially now that we think we will have a new place to live in. Moving will be a big job though. I won’t name all the people I have to bless, there are just too many. You know who they are, and how much they mean to me. Am I doing what I should be? I know you wanted me to be good to everyone, and I’m trying. Let me know if it is not enough.

Amen