Читать книгу The Color Of Light - Emilie Richards - Страница 14

chapter eight

SHILOH HAD NEVER met a lady minister, and she was sure she would remember if she had met one who looked like Reverend Ana. Today she was wearing a dark skirt with a bright green shirt hanging loose over it and a pretty circular flowered scarf looped around her neck. Shiloh never worried much about what she would look like when she was an adult—there were too many other things to worry about—but for just a moment, as she opened the door to Analiese, she was sorry she was never going to look like that.

“Are your parents here?” Analiese asked.

“Daddy took Mama to get those tests about an hour ago.” She lifted her chin defiantly. “But we’re all packed, and we’ll leave just as soon as she gets her medicine. I’m sorry if we stayed too long.”

“Not long enough. I just met with the committee in charge of these things, and we’d like you to stay another two weeks while we help you find a more permanent place.”

Even if she did pray for it each night Shiloh knew better than to believe anything good would ever happen to the Fowlers. But for a moment she felt just a sliver of something like hope.

“Why?” From experience, she knew this was the question most suited for putting hope back in its place.

“Because this is a church, and even if we don’t always remember why we exist, we did remember today.”

Shiloh was puzzled and her expression must have showed it, because Analiese smiled. “In other words because we can help and we want to.”

“Why? What will you get?”

The smile softened. “Sometimes people do things just because they’re right. Your family’s having a hard time. The church is able to help.”

“Most of the time people do things because they get something out of it.”

“Like feeling good about life? Like knowing that they’re making a difference in the world?”

“Like driving to the food bank in a fancy car and doling out dented tuna cans, and then telling you you’re selfish if you ask for more than one. Even if there are plenty.”

“I think with all you’ve been through it must be hard to see how many good people there are, and how many of them are genuinely concerned.”

Shiloh knew better than to argue. Whatever the reason, her family had a roof over their heads for the next two weeks. It might be a mini-miracle, but it was a miracle nonetheless.

“Where’s Dougie?” Analiese asked.

“In the bedroom. I’m making him do his schoolwork.” She realized Analiese was still waiting to be invited in, and she stepped aside and motioned.

“What kind of schoolwork? Do you have textbooks?”

Shiloh had to laugh at that. “Where would we get textbooks? Where would we keep them?”

“What’s he doing then?”

“I make up math puzzles, and I make him keep a journal, and I go over it and correct his grammar and spelling if I need to, and we talk about it.”

“You said you didn’t like school in Atlanta. What about Dougie?”

“He was always in trouble. He can’t sit still.”

Analiese nodded, as if that made sense when, of course, it didn’t.

Shiloh changed the subject. “If we stay, may we use the stove and cook?”

“Absolutely. I didn’t get as far as cleaning the inside of the cabinets. Are there pans?”

Shiloh had checked every corner of the apartment. “A few.”

“May I look?”

“It’s yours, isn’t it?”

Analiese didn’t answer. She crossed the room and peeked inside the cabinets. “I bet you couldn’t even heat the leftovers I brought up last night.”

“It didn’t matter.”

“We’ll get you more, and linens and towels. Dishes. Silverware.”

“We have things in our car we can use.”

“Why don’t you leave them packed for now and we’ll see what I can rustle up today?”

“There’s a washer and dryer.”

“I don’t know if they’re still functional. I’ll ask our sexton if they were working before he left. Then we’ll give them a try, and you’ll be welcome to use them.”

Shiloh tried to imagine two weeks of clean clothes. Really clean. Not gas-station-sink-clean.

Analiese gestured toward the pantry. “Right now I thought maybe we could run over to the grocery store and stock these shelves a bit. We can leave your parents a note and tell them we’ll be back soon.” She hesitated, as if she’d just thought of something and didn’t know how to broach it.

Shiloh felt a surge of anger. She answered the unasked question. “Yes, they read. Both of them. My dad should have gone to college, only he had to help support my grandma after my grandpa died, so he quit high school and got a GED. But he’s smart. Really smart. And my mom reads the headlines and does the crossword puzzle every morning, or she did when we could afford the paper.”

“I’m sorry, Shiloh. But a lot of people can’t read. I have a friend, somebody you’d like, who never learned how when she was in school. So I never take reading for granted.”

Shiloh felt a little better. “People think just because we’re homeless, we’re stupid.”

“I can see that’s not true.”

Dougie came barreling out of the bedroom. “I finished!” He skidded to a stop in front of Analiese. “Hi.”

“Hi yourself.” She held up her hand and they slapped palms. “Interested in going to the grocery store with Shiloh and me?”

“Can we get chocolate cereal?”

“Not on my watch.”

Dougie pouted, but only for a moment. “Cookies?”

“Let’s see what they have.”

Shiloh thought going to the store was going to be interesting.

* * *

Analiese was no expert, but she thought if she opened a medical textbook she would find a line drawing of Dougie next to the word hyperactivity. From the moment they’d entered the grocery store, he had raced up and down the aisles, selecting food to put in the cart, then putting it back after Shiloh or Analiese told him to. Not without a fight, of course. He wasn’t passive, but he was surprisingly good-natured, even when he didn’t win, which was always.

Shiloh was a different matter. The girl was riveted on choosing food that would fill her family’s stomachs at the cheapest price. Pasta. Potatoes. Bulk American cheese slices from the dairy case. Analiese watched the girl lift a bag of apples from an endcap, then put it back in place after she considered.

“Okay, you’ve got some staples here,” Analiese said. “Let’s move on to the fresh fruits and vegetables.” She put the apples in the cart. “What else do you like to eat?”

“We mostly eat canned vegetables. Whatever’s available.”

Analiese was sure “available” meant cheap or free at whatever food bank allowed them through the door. “While you’re at the apartment you’ll have a refrigerator. Do you like salads?”

“When we had a garden Mama made salads out of anything that was ready to harvest. Beets, squash, green beans.”

“I dump lettuce in a bowl and maybe a tomato. Let’s get a little of everything that looks good and let her have fun.”

“She doesn’t cook anymore. When there’s a place to cook Daddy does it.”

Every sentence was a reminder of how drastically everything had changed for the family, and as she pushed the cart toward the center of the produce section, Analiese had to be careful not to overreact.

“How about you? Do you like to cook?” she asked Shiloh.

“Mama never let me in the kitchen. I’m not very good.”

“My mother was the same. The kitchen was her domain, and we had to stay out. She still loves to bake. Now that there’s nobody at home to fatten up, she joined a church so she can bake for their Sunday social hours. I don’t think it’s a coincidence they had to start a weight loss group.”

“My mother could use a weight loss group. She says she’s fat because she can’t smoke anymore.”

Analiese considered how best to broach a change of diet. “Let’s get some fresh produce anyway, and I’ll show you what little I know about making a salad. Maybe your mother will help once she’s feeling better.” She stocked the cart with lettuce and other salad vegetables, adding a healthy-enough dressing she used at home.

“Mama’s been sick on and off for a long time,” Shiloh said. “Since before we left South Carolina. After we got there, she helped Aunt Mimi make meals and clean, but she got feeling worse and worse, and pretty soon my aunt had to do everything. Aunt Mimi didn’t like that. And nobody liked Dougie, because he broke things. He’s always fooling around. He can’t sit still.”

As if on cue Dougie arrived again, this time with graham crackers. “Good choice,” Analiese said. “Do you like peanut butter?”

After an emphatic yes she told him which kind to buy and sent him on his way again.

“Do you like broccoli?” Analiese looked closer at Shiloh, who was frowning, and in response she put the broccoli back. “What’s up?”

“This isn’t right, you buying all this food for us. It’s your money, isn’t it? Even if it isn’t, it’s somebody’s money.”

“We make money to spend it. This is the way I want to spend mine.”

“I don’t see why.”

“If I didn’t want to spend money on you, would that make sense? Because for some reason it always seems to. Nobody questions that.”

She could see that Shiloh was working that out, so Analiese did a mini-sermon on the Golden Rule. “Look at it this way. If I were in trouble I would want somebody to help me. I’m just taking my turn.”

“I’m ready to be on the other side, you know? Being helped gets old really quick.”

“I bet.”

Shiloh’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “How do you know? Have you ever been there?”

“We’ve all needed help from friends or family, and sometimes from strangers.”

“Friends and family, that’s different.”

“Then let’s be friends and this won’t feel so strange.” Analiese picked up the broccoli again. “Some broccoli between friends?”

“That’s weird.”

“I can show you how to cook it.”

“You’re not like any minister I’ve ever known.”

“I’ll consider that a compliment.”

They finished the shopping, adding Dougie’s peanut butter, a package of chicken and another of frozen fish before they checked out. They were in the car heading back to church with an exhausted Dougie napping when Analiese brought up the subject she knew Shiloh would least want to hear.

“Have you thought about school, Shiloh? Because you’re much too smart not to get a good education. And Dougie is, too.”

“We’re homeschooling.”

The girl was trying so hard with so little. She tried to think of a way to say what she was thinking without alienating her, never easy with a young teen.

“We have parents in our church who homeschool their children. I’ve seen it work two ways, Shiloh. One, the family is conscientious and partners with others to offer their children a well-rounded education with the chance to socialize and be involved in sports and other activities. Two, the family just lets their children do whatever they want. The second doesn’t work very well, and those children suffer.”

“I’m not a child.”

“I’m guessing you’re thirteen?”

“Fourteen going on fifteen.”

Answered like a child. Analiese guessed fifteen might be eleven months away. “That means you should be in eighth grade?”

“Ninth. I skipped a grade.”

And these days she was skipping a lot more. Analiese decided it was time to go right to the heart of the bad news.

“You had a difficult time at school in Atlanta. But, Shiloh, you saw how much trouble that caused your parents. So as smart as you are, you must see you have to go to school while you’re in Asheville, and so does your brother. If you don’t, you’ll get them into the same trouble again.”

“I’m not going, and neither is he.”

“It was that bad, huh?”

The sympathy seemed to take her aback. “I hated it.”

“Can you tell me why?”

“I was in gifted classes in Ohio. When we got to South Carolina they said they didn’t have gifted classes unless my parents could pay to have me tested again, and then they put me in with dumb kids because that’s where they had room for me. In Atlanta they looked at my South Carolina records and put me in dumber classes. And the kids were awful.”

Analiese heard two things. One, this girl was so unhappy with the way she had been treated that she was willing to share her story with a stranger. Two, that Shiloh’s self-esteem had suffered and getting her back into school was going to require every bit of skill Analiese possessed.

Actually, there was a third, and she tested her conclusion. “Your parents let you stop going to school?”

“Nobody can make you go if you don’t want to.”

Especially parents who were exhausted, depressed, and otherwise occupied trying to keep their family together.

Analiese gathered her strength for the battle. “Okay, let’s start with the facts. You’re a smart girl. And as a smart girl you know that sometimes the world doesn’t work the way you wish it would.”

“You said it, not me.”

“So that being true, we also know that sometimes you have to do things you don’t want to because the consequences of not doing them are worse than doing them.”

Shiloh obviously knew where this was going. “Not this time.”

“So these are the consequences,” Analiese said. “Just so you’ll know. One, your parents will get into serious trouble with the authorities again. And as a side note to that, I think they’re already worried about the family being split up, and this will only heighten their fears. For good reason.”

She overrode Shiloh’s attempt to interrupt. “And two, the church will not let you stay in the apartment if you don’t go to school. Our leadership won’t court trouble with the authorities.”

“I can pretend to go.”

“No, you can’t.”

Shiloh fell silent.

Analiese let her message sink in before she spoke. “We have good schools in this county, and there are other kids—you’d be surprised how many—who don’t have a permanent address. You won’t be alone, I promise. Asheville’s filled with different kinds of people, and I think you’ll be surprised how comfortably you’ll fit in if you give school a chance.”

“I’ll never fit in anywhere.”

“I know that’s how you feel, but I can guarantee you’re not the only girl your age who feels that way.”

“It’s not just me. They always put Dougie in with the dumb kids because he can’t sit still, and that’s not good for him. He’s not dumb, and he’s not mean, like some boys are.”

“We can talk to the people in charge and tell them everything you’ve been through. They’ll listen.” Analiese hoped it was true.

“Why bother? We won’t be here very long. Daddy isn’t going to find a job.”

“You have a place to live, and we’re going to try to find you a more permanent one. Your mom’s seen a doctor. With those problems out of the way your father can look for work without distractions, and he might find something right away. But you need to go to school so he’ll have even fewer worries, Shiloh. You do get that, right?”

“I hate this.”

Analiese reached over and squeezed her hand. She thought she had won this battle, but probably not the war. Still, the conversation had begun.