Hope(less) (Judgment of the Six) Page 2

  “Let’s meet Wednesday nights at the hospital café. Around six?”

  “That sounds good. I look forward to seeing you next week and am truly sorry for scaring you tonight.” He held out his hand for a handshake.

  I looked at him closely and, not shaking his hand, decided to go for blunt. “You’re not going to turn creepy uncle on me, are you, Sam?” I honestly didn’t know if I feared that more than a mauling, and didn’t expect him to admit it if he did have that planned. I just wanted to see his reaction to the question.

  He barked out a laugh, dropping his hand back to his side. When he saw I remained serious, he sobered and said, “I suppose that’s a fair question, given what you’ve just told me. With me, you’re safe.”

  At my steady gaze, he further clarified. “Honey, I’m older than I look. Heck, I’m probably old enough to be your great grandfather.” He looked at me for a moment. I mean really looked at me, studying my face as if he could read all my secrets there. With a sigh, he ran his hand through his hair saying, “When I look at you, I see a young girl I want to help. I see a grandchild I could have had if only I’d met my one and only. And I see hope.”

  Fair enough. I’d wait until next week to pass any further judgments.

  “Alright, then. I’ve got to get home. See you next week.”

  He nodded his good bye.

  Reluctantly, I turned my back on him. Fear skittered along my spine as I walked away, feet whispering through the grass until I reached the paved walk. When I looked back, he no longer stood by the pond, but I’d monitored his progress with my sight as he left the park, heading west, now that I knew what to look for.

  My already complicated life had just gotten more so. I took a huge risk meeting with a complete stranger, but how could I refuse? Learning about him and his kind might give me more insight, if not actual answers about my abilities. They’d caused me so much grief over the years that I really wanted an explanation.

  When I got home, it was later than I thought. Barb and Tim waited for me in the kitchen.

  When I walked in, they fed me dinner sitting at the table with me while I explained what kept me. I didn’t mention a werewolf, just an old friend of my grandfather who I’d bumped into.

  I mentioned my plans to meet up with him at the hospital next week to talk some more. Barb looked at Tim with worry a moment before Tim asked when they’d get to meet him. I asked for their patience, saying I wanted to get to know Sam again first.

  * * * *

  Three weeks later, I exited the sliding glass hospital doors with Sam walking beside me. We both eyed the dark clouds. The charged air filled me with anticipation. The imminent downpour cleared the usually bustling sidewalks.

  I turned to Sam, “What do you think? Still want to go? We will probably get wet.”

  Sam, dressed in his unusually trendy attire for an old guy, continued to study the sky as we walked toward the bus stop.

  He had been kind and informative the first two meetings. Telling me as much as he could in such a public place about his “relatives” in the hour I allotted for our meetings.

  Typically wary of outsiders, many of his kind chose to live in a closed community across the Canadian border. The rural population allowed them more space to roam as they wanted. Although remote, a few of the community’s members ventured out to find work in nearby towns, supplementing the income needed to support their not fully self-sufficient way of life.

  Since the “marriage” of their leader - he’d hesitated using the term marriage - more than twenty years ago some of his “relatives” had branched out further to better acquaint themselves with society. Recently, he’d been sent even further from the community to get the lay of the land in a more urban setting.

  Trying to blend, he’d decided he needed to dress more like the people of the area. At that point in his narrative, I’d wondered what he’d been wearing. Furs? Anyway, when he’d gone shopping, he’d asked a sales clerk’s advice regarding what to buy. The sales clerk had been about my age. It explained Sam’s trendy choice of clothes.

  After the marriage of their leader, they began to realize they’d slipped too far from society and started making other adjustments as well. Several of the structures in the community needed remodeling and collectively, his “relatives” just didn’t have the money for it.

  A few of the men not yet “married,” again he hesitated to use the word, had been sent out looking for work, and when the leader’s sons were old enough, they too were sent out. The leader’s wife showed them that the path they’d been on would lead to nothing but the ruination of his family. Their only choice to survive was to adapt.

  It amazed me how much I’d learned about the man walking next to me just by sitting and listening to him talk. The way he’d spoken with such compassion for his people’s plight impressed upon me his selflessness. Watching him interact with other people around us, showed he had a sense of humor. Those defining characteristics that had decided it for me - it was time to introduce him to Tim and Barb.

  We’d reached the bus stop without a drop of rain.

  “A little rain ever hurt anyone,” he said answering my earlier question.

  Another thing I liked about Sam. He sensed when I was lost in my own thoughts and let me to it.

  I nodded and said, “Okay, I’ll text Barb and let her know you’ll be coming over. They’ve been asking about you every week.” When he looked at me questioningly, I explained, “I mentioned you that first night we met in the park. They wanted to know why I was late. I said I ran into an old acquaintance, a friend of my grandfathers.”

  A city bus, this one advertising a new restaurant, drew to a halt in front of the sheltered bus stop. Taking my lead, Sam waited for the other passengers to board. He surprised me by pulling out his own city bus pass to pay. The familiar driver looked at me curiously when I took my normal place behind him and slid over on the worn grey vinyl seat to make room for Sam.

  Sam and I didn’t talk much on the way home with the driver constantly looking back at us. Instead, I watched out the window, waiting expectantly for the rain to start pouring down.

  At our stop, Sam stood and exited. He didn’t offer me his hand. He just waited for me to hop down from the last step and then fell in beside me as we made our way down the paved park path.

  After only knowing me a short while, he knew I didn’t like to be touched. It wasn’t even that I didn’t like being touched. I didn’t like growing attached. When you touched people, you developed attachments. Then, when they left, it made it even harder to say goodbye.

  Although we still had an hour of daylight left, the dark storm clouds writhing in the sky above cast the city into an early dusk. After he’d revealed himself to me, tension drove me to walk quickly through the park. Particularly in the dark. I liked having someone to walk home with me even if that someone had started the whole thing. In his company, I didn’t worry as much.

  “You’re certain I won’t disrupt things at home just popping in like this?

  “I don’t think you can disrupt it any more than it’s been,” I said. “Barb, my foster mom is pregnant, which really is a good thing. Barb and Tim have been trying to get pregnant for years. So, thinking they’d never have kids of their own, they decided to foster.”

  We were halfway across the park and I noticed Sam slowing to give me more time to talk. I hadn’t mentioned any of this to him before. The swings in the abandoned playground to our right started to sway in the increasing winds, their older chains squeaking slightly with each forward swing.

  “They own a cute little two bedroom house. If she carries the baby to term, there won’t be enough room, you know?” I kept my eyes focused on the path not wanting to read his expression. “Because she hasn’t yet past her first term, they haven’t notified my social worker.”

  I had no regret. I really did feel happy for Barb and Tim and I’d moved around enough in foster care to know the drill. Plus, I counted down the days until I turned eighteen, legally free from anyone’s guardianship.

  Sam remained silent beside me.

  Leaving the park, we turned right on the sidewalk. The phone in my bag buzzed and I quickly searched for it. The rain still held back, but the sky overhead rumbled ominously. I checked the message and smiled at Sam, “Barb said she’s very excited to meet you and since you and I just ate, they’ll have cake and coffee ready.”

  Sam nodded. A fat raindrop splattered on the sidewalk in front of us and without a word, we both started walking faster. When we turned the last suburban corner, I pointed out the Newton’s house to him, not pausing the brisk pace we’d set.

  Barb and Tim both stood on the front stoop waiting for us. Tim had his arm wrapped around Barb’s shoulders as he peeked around the awning to look up at the clouds. They greeted Sam enthusiastically and invited him in. I could see Barb sizing him up and finding him acceptable.

  In a rare twist, Tim did most the talking that night, asking Sam about himself. When Sam said he originally hailed from Canada and managed the family business, investments, I figured he stuck as close to the truth as possible. They did ask him about my grandpa and he wove a beautiful tale about growing up together. Since I never talked about my grandfather, the Newton’s didn’t know any differently. The skill in which Sam lied made me a little uncomfortable. If he could lie that easily to them, how easy could he lie to me?

  The rain stopped before he finished his second cup of coffee. Sam smiled at Barb and said, “The cake and coffee were wonderful. Thank you for letting me drop in like this.” He stood, knees creaking, and extended a hand to Tim. “I won’t over stay my welcome or the coffee.”

  Tim clasped Sam hand with a warm smile as the adults all laughed.

  Letting go of Tim’s hand, Sam said, “It was a pleasure to meet both of you.”

  “We appreciated you stopping in,” Barb replied, already collecting the cups to bring to the sink. “When Gabby said she ran into you, we were both very curious.”

  “I can imagine. Now that I found her, I don’t want to lose track of her. If it’s alright, I’d like to stop by now and again to check in on her.”

  “We insist you do,” Tim patted Sam back in a manly display of affection as they walked to the front door. I quickly helped Barb put the dishes in the sink so she could follow them. Barb was a little compulsive and couldn’t walk away from a dirty kitchen.

  “What about dinner next Wednesday,” Barb asked, raising her voice from the kitchen as she washed and dried her hands at the sink and hurried to the front door where Sam bent to put on his shoes.

  “That sounds like a good idea.” Sam finished tying his shoes and turned to me. “Will that be okay Gabby?”

  Leaning against the arch dividing the living room and the kitchen, I watched the adults interact. In a way, it reminded me of the animal channel. I struggled not to crack a smile at that thought since Sam really did have one foot in the animal world. Instead, I answered, “After I finish volunteering, it should work for me.”

  Satisfied they would see each other soon, the adults said their goodbyes, and Sam left. Not bad for a first meeting.

  Each time I met with Sam, I learned more about his world. Nothing that I could apply to myself, yet. I still had hope though.

  * * * *

  Life continued as normal for a while with Sam visiting periodically over the next two months. Barb started to show and the normally reserved Tim couldn’t stop talking about it. My time with the Newton’s ticked away like the seconds of a clock.

  On one of our scheduled Wednesday nights, I opened the door for Sam as soon as he knocked. With a week left of school, I’d let the hospital know that I wouldn’t be coming in during exam week because of schoolwork. He didn’t show any surprise when I swung the door open after just one knock, but then I didn’t expect him to.

  Despite meeting at my home where we couldn’t speak freely, I’d managed to learn a little more about him and his kind. For example, he had exceptional hearing. He knew when I got nervous or upset, by the change in my pulse. He could hear whispered conversations taking place in other rooms as long as the door remained partially open. He could even hear whispers through thin walls. In addition to keen hearing, he also had better eyesight. In the dark, his pupils expanded to a freakish dimension allowing in as much light as possible and enabling him to see when a normal person couldn’t. This explained the way his eyes reflected in the dark.

  “Hi, Sam,” I said holding the door open while he stepped in. I stopped him from taking off his shoes, saying, “We’re eating out on the patio since it’s nice out.” He wiped his feet extra well on the rug before following me through the house to the back patio.

  The solid concrete slab patio took up a fourth of their backyard space. The patio wasn’t that big, the yard was just that small. But fenced in with a classic wooden privacy fence, it made a perfect play area.

  We walked out onto the patio and Tim looked up from the grill to our left and nodded a greeting. Smoke drifted lazily upward as Tim flipped a burger. “Sam, thanks for coming.” Barb stopped setting the table and moved to greet Sam with a hug. Sam gave one back with a smile. She long ago stopped trying to hug me.

  Tim brought the burgers from the grill and we all sat to eat while Tim and Sam dominated conversation with fishing stories.

  When Sam asked if I’d ever been fishing, I nearly choked on my bite of burger. “No,” I said definitively.

  He put on a mock shocked face and asked, “How can a girl your age never have been fishing?”

  “Many have tried and all have failed, Sam,” I said slightly amused. “I’m not an outdoorsy type.”

  His next comment wiped the smile from Barb’s face, “You should come with me for the weekend. I’ll take you to the cabin your grandpa and I went to before you were even born. It’s got indoor plumbing now, so I bet you could even talk a friend into coming with.”

  I glanced at all the faces at the table. Sam still smiled, Barb focused on me with an alarmed expression and Tim glanced between me, Barb and Sam. I took another bite of burger to stall.

  In private, Sam had mentioned that he’d like to take me on a trip to meet others of his kind. I felt fairly certain that’s what he meant now. Having him ask tonight without any warning took me off guard. I could have done some prep work, like dropping hints that I had interest in spending more time with him or something. But it made sense that he asked now. Why wait? The doctors saw no reason this pregnancy wouldn’t go full term. School would let out soon and I had no summer job.

  Setting down my fork, I picked up my glass and took a long drink of water.

  They all waited. I decided to save the adults the long dance around a subject none of them wanted to face full on.

  I turned toward Barb and Tim, “I’ve spent a lot of time getting to know Sam over the last two months and told him about the baby on the way.” Here I looked at Barb, meeting her beautiful dark brown eyes kindly, “We all know that I won’t be able to stay once the baby’s here.” Barb started to tear up and speak, but I stopped her with a raised hand. “I also know that you want me to stay. I don’t doubt that for a minute. You’ve both been so great to me and I thank you.”

  I turned to Sam, “You said that you live in a three bedroom house and that I was welcome to visit anytime. What about visiting until I graduate?”

  Sam continued to smile at me, “I have a room if you need it, whenever you need it.”

  I didn’t want to go back into foster care.

  Barb started to sniffle and Tim reached over the table to pat her hand.

  Chapter 2

  Friday night, Barb and Tim dropped me off as Sam’s with hugs and a misty goodbye. I used the eight-hour drive to ask Sam blunt questions about werewolf life soaking in everything he said. Headlights showing the way, we turned off the blacktopped road onto a deeply rutted dirt road that I doubted saw much use. After about a mile bracing myself against the rough ride, the truck passed two wooden poles suck in the ground on each side of the driveway. We emerged from the tree-lined path into a wide clearing.

  In the dark, I could see a large two-story log cabin style structure dominated the clearing with wings branching out to connect to outlaying buildings. Rolling forward slowly, Sam parked in the area in front of the buildings, which was a combination of old gravel, stubborn grass, and plain dirt.

  The werewolf community reminded me of an old wilderness resort, one that’d been closed for a few years. If not for the lights pouring out from several of the windows, I would have locked the truck door instead of following Sam’s lead.

  I trailed after Sam carrying my bag and stepped up onto the covered porch. Sam didn’t hesitate, but pulled open the solid wood door without knocking. An eclectic set of rugs set along the perimeter of the large main entry accommodated numerous sets of shoes, while hooks on the walls held a bounty of coats, jackets, and overalls.

  Sam caught me looking around at the mass of shoes and said, “We don’t have to worry about stealing here.” He removed his own shoes. “It keeps the rest of the place cleaner if we leave our outside things here.”

  “You would not believe how messy this place was thirty years ago,” a voice called from the hall.

  I looked up from untying my shoes. A tall woman with blonde hair and a gentle smile walked into the entry. I estimated to be in her late twenties.

  “Hello, Gabby,” she said coming to stand next to me, “I’m Charlene.” She held out her hand in greeting as I stood and stepped out of my shoes. Her hold was firm and sure. “Sam’s told me about you. I’m so excited to meet another person like me.”

  Excitement coursed through me. Finally! I stretched out my senses looking for her spark in the vast darkness in my mind. The brilliance of the sparks surprised me, their normal soft glow amplified so much that the blinding light obscured their gentle colors. I let go of her hand and they dimmed considerably so I could again discern their soft colors.

  Sam’s spark glowed blue with a green halo and hers, while still containing the yellow center like any human, had a red halo. I’d always attributed my orange halo to the possibility that I couldn’t see myself correctly using my other sight. Seeing Charlene had me reconsidering.