Matt smiled. “Okay, punk. I’ll do my best, but this is serious,” he sighed.
“We all get it, Matt. Just saying, you’re not alone.”
He studied his baby sister’s intent face, seeing the adult she’d become—caring and tenderhearted. “I know. Thanks.”
She nodded. “Kristen and I are driving into town to bring back sandwiches for people. Want one?”
“Nah.”
“Too bad, you’re getting one.”
Matt watched her walk away. Dana had been right. Rosie deserved so much more than an overprotective big brother. But he didn’t want to think about Dana right then. He had work to do.
He drove back to the city late that afternoon to drop off Rosie, and his mother met him at the door.
“Rosie and I are coming with you,” she said, and he knew not to argue.
They arrived at the meeting mere minutes before the doors closed.
When they entered the room, Matt paused to take in the size of the crowd. He picked out the KidsFirst board members sitting together and many of the parents he knew from the drop-in and the camp. Some craned round to wave or give him a thumbs-up. He also recognized the owner of Happy-Go-Lucky Campground and his stomach lurched at the possibility of a confrontation. Then he spotted Sandro, sitting near the front next to Kristen. Matt had texted him earlier and asked him to save seats for them.
The swell of chatter in the room died as the mayor of Willow Springs, seated with the councilors on the platform at the front of the room, called the meeting to order. Matt skimmed through his notes during the mayor’s introductions and the preliminary business. He’d given talks about KidsFirst Place and Camp Hope many times at fund-raisers, but never like this, with so much at stake.
When the mayor called on him, Matt took a quick drink from his water bottle, inhaled deeply and strode to the lectern at the foot of the platform, where Sandro had set up the equipment for the PowerPoint. He adjusted the microphone and peered out at the crowd as he began his spiel. He noticed other familiar faces now, including one he hadn’t expected to see. Dana was sitting at the end of an aisle toward the back of the room. His voice faltered when he saw her, but he looked away and began his talk.
“The children who come to our drop-in, KidsFirst Place, and to Camp Hope are kids who don’t have the same opportunities as others in this city. Some of them need mentoring, while some need to learn how to get along with other kids and how to resolve conflicts appropriately. Some need even basic things—clothing, books, chances to use a computer—and,” he added, lowering his voice, “some need a safe place to hang out. Somewhere to go if there’s trouble at home. Unfortunately, there’s often trouble at home.” A stirring in the audience made him pause. “They all have different desires and requirements, but there’s a common factor for all of them. The need to learn about the countryside and to experience the calming and healing benefits of nature. That’s what my staff and I give them at Camp Hope. And just as the name implies, our kids are given hope. Hope for better things to come in their lives.”
When he reached the last part of his presentation, Matt sensed he ought to give the audience more. Lucy and her foster parents had been given a few minutes to address the meeting at the conclusion of his talk, but Matt knew it was up to him to make the crowd understand why Camp Hope and places like it were vital for communities.
He clicked off the remote in his hand. “In a few minutes,” he said, “I’ll be introducing you to one of our campers and her foster parents, who’ve kindly agreed to give you a personal view of the camp and its importance to them.” He glanced briefly to his left where his mother and sister were sitting. “I’ve given you a summary of how I got into community service, but there’s another part of the story—not one I’m proud of, though it has a happy ending.” He paused, seeing his mother give him a nervous smile. Guessing where I’m heading with this, he thought.
“Twenty years ago, something happened that changed my life. I can’t tell you the details, because the story also belongs to someone else and I don’t have the right to disclose those details.” He looked across the upturned faces, found Dana and locked his gaze onto hers.
“I was eleven when my father died. For a long time, it was just me, my mother and my infant sister. Those days were challenging and painful, but our struggle wasn’t so very different from the struggles of many people here in this room, in this town and in Chicago. My mother never gave up, never lost hope. That’s why I named the camp after her. Despite my mother’s belief in me, I had no faith in myself. I made poor choices with some friends—though not all—” he smiled at Sandro “—and when I was sixteen or so, I decided to join a gang.” People stirred, glancing at one another and Matt felt his resolve weakening, until he noticed Esperanza, grim-faced and eyes shining, nodding encouragement.
“The day that changed my life I was on my way to an affluent area of Chicago. I had been instructed by the gang leader to break into some of the houses there and bring back objects to prove that I’d carried out that order. It was the first part of an initiation.” The crowd fell silent.
“I’d never been involved in anything that was violent or potentially violent, but I’m ashamed to confess that I was fully prepared to complete that first step of the initiation—burglary. I wanted to be part of something, you see. Part of a group of people who I thought cared about me, though that was naive. They were people who did things I felt uncomfortable about and I began to have doubts about why I was with them. Yet my need for acceptance outweighed all that. But that day, something happened. Something bad that could have resulted in someone’s death but fortunately, that didn’t happen. The incident made me realize I had a choice. I could continue on with the gang or I could change the whole direction of my life.” He stopped for a moment, singling out Dana once more with his eyes.
“As I told you, this sad story has a happy ending. I began to make better decisions—enlisting in the army was one—and setting up KidsFirst Place drop-in was another. Later, the camp was an idea that came from all of us at the drop-in. Camp Hope is way more than just a camp. As I said earlier, it’s a place where all kids can learn to accept one another regardless of their differences, can enjoy the gifts of nature that some of us take for granted and can find out that there are people who care about them.” He paused to catch his breath. “I just wish I’d had a place and people to go to all those years ago, when I was struggling.”
He looked across the still room, his gaze alighting once more on Dana. Then he added, “I’d like to thank the Willow Springs council for letting me speak today on behalf of my staff and all the children who have enjoyed Camp Hope, in the hope—” he smiled briefly “—that we will be permitted to extend our annual lease of the property on Maple Lake.”
The room was dead quiet, until a single person clapping encouraged others. Matt returned to his seat next to Rosie, who clutched his hand and squeezed it. “Well said, big brother,” she whispered, teary eyed.
* * *
DANA SEARCHED IN her purse for a tissue and dabbed at her eyes. From the sniffling sounds around her, she guessed she wasn’t the only person affected by Matt’s story.
It all made sense now: the gaps in his account of that day, his offhand explanation about why he’d vanished so quickly after rescuing her, his behavior when the man with all the tattoos came to the camp. What she couldn’t understand was why he’d been so reluctant—afraid?—to tell her the whole story. Had he thought the truth might scare her away? That knowing his story would change her feelings for him?
The mayor’s voice broke into her thoughts as he introduced Lucy and her foster parents. Dana focused on the three people at the front of the room. Lucy looked proud in her pretty dress and held a piece of paper in her hand. Her foster father lowered the mic as she unfolded the paper.
“My name is Lucy and I’m nine going on ten. Next week!” A ripple of laughter went th
rough the audience at the excitement in her voice. “‘I was lucky enough to go to Camp Hope for two weekends,’” she said, reading from the paper. “‘They were the best weekends I have had for a long, long time. When I came to live with John and Shirley, I had no friends. I had to leave my best friend behind where I used to live. I was lonely and cried every single night. The kids at my new school picked on me and called me some names that weren’t nice. I couldn’t talk about it to Shirley and John because I was afraid if I told on those kids, they would be even meaner to me.’” She paused for a moment, reaching out a hand to her foster mother. ‘“The first time I went to Camp Hope I was afraid kids would tease me again. But it was different there. There were rules and the leaders were friendly. Dana even gave me her cookie at snack time.’” Another rise of light laughter.
Dana swiped away tears again but smiled.
Lucy finished reading to look out into the audience. “I liked the games and activities at camp, but best of all I made a friend. When I got home, I asked if I could go back again and I was lucky ’cause Shirley said yes! Thank you very much to Matt, Kristen and most of all, Dana.”
The burst of applause as Lucy moved away from the mic drowned out the beginning of her foster father’s brief remarks, which Dana scarcely heard. Lucy’s words were the encouragement she needed. She noticed someone setting up a mic in the aisle. This would be her opportunity to speak.
When the mayor announced that there would be a few minutes for questions from the floor, half a dozen people got in line, including Dana. As she stood behind the man at the head of the line, she felt a tap on her shoulder.
“Thanks for coming,” Kristen said, standing behind her. “I heard what happened from Matt. I wasn’t sure if you’d be here, but I’m not judging. You deserve a chance to speak for yourself.”
Dana thanked her, thinking perhaps she’d been the one to rush to judgment when she first met Kristen.
As she turned around, she caught sight of a tall, white-haired man at the very back of the room. Her father. Next to him was the man who’d been at the office earlier in the day. She guessed Brent had come for the council meeting after the presentation. But who was the other man? The familiar anxiety rushed up, clutching at her throat, causing dry mouth and accelerated heart rate. Could she go ahead with what she’d decided to say?
The large balding man in front of her tapped the mic as the session began. “My name is Jerry Swainson and I’m the owner of the Happy-Go-Lucky Campground out on Maple Lake, maybe a half a mile from the camp. Camp Hope.”
Dana stiffened. Would she be able to mitigate whatever he said?
“I gotta say,” he went on, “that I’m not happy with the camp. Some kids came onto our property last summer and vandalized some of our trailers and RVs. I met with Mr. Rodriguez, who promised nothing like that would happen this year.”
He tilted his head toward Matt, whose polite half smile was definitely strained.
“But there was more trouble just a week or so ago. Boys from the camp wandered onto Happy-Go-Lucky property and got into a fight with the son of a family staying with us. Later that night, a shed was torched. Maybe some of you read about it in the paper. So that’s why I’m here tonight to say I’m not in favor of renewing the camp’s lease. That’s all I gotta say.” He lumbered away from the mic.
Dana had noticed some people nodding while the man was speaking. There was no way she’d be able to go ahead with her scripted speech, which in many ways was a repeat of what Matt and Lucy had said.
All eyes were on her as she stepped up to the mic. She took a deep breath and began, “My name is Dana Sothern and I’m a lawyer in Chicago.” A couple of the councilors on the stage whispered to one another. As for Matt, his face was ashen in the glare of the lights.
“I was privileged to volunteer at Camp Hope this spring. It was an experience I will never forget, and I thank Matt Rodriguez for giving me the opportunity.” She saw him shift in his chair. “Most of the people who’ve spoken tonight have already demonstrated why Camp Hope is vital for the health and well-being of the children who attend it. Matt has bravely told you something of his personal journey. His dream is to offer children with fewer chances than others a safe, welcoming environment where they can make friends and enjoy the countryside. But there’s a part of his story that he overlooked. Because of me, to protect my privacy. And I need to talk about it because what happened to me might have been prevented or changed in some way if I’d had the kind of mentoring that kids at Camp Hope receive.”
She paused, noting the tension in Matt’s expression, and thought, Too late, Dana. You’ve got to finish this. “Twenty years ago, I was waiting on the subway platform of the Green Line to Oak Park. I was fifteen and not a happy teenager. For some reason—and we never really know why, do we?—I was bullied and teased as a teen. I had no one to talk to about my loneliness and my fear of other kids my age.”
Dana stopped to clear her throat. “Anyway, while I was waiting for the train, some high school girls picked a fight with me.” She uttered a nervous laugh. “Well, it wasn’t a fight so much as some pushing and shoving. There were no adults around, just this one guy alone at the other end of the platform. One of the girls gave me a hard shove and I fell backward, tripping over my backpack and onto the train tracks.” She heard gasps from the audience and saw that Matt’s head was bent, his eyes on his presentation notes.
“I don’t remember much about those seconds when I was lying there, but I know I heard a train coming and suddenly someone was lifting me up off the tracks and setting me down safely on the platform. I didn’t know who my rescuer was until I saw his photo in a newspaper article about budget cuts for KidsFirst Place.”
Whispers and stifled exclamations rippled through the crowd as heads turned from Dana to Matt. Dana waited a minute. “Matt Rodriguez is far too private and humble to want people to know what he did that day. His spontaneous act saved my life, and maybe also his. As he has told you, that defining moment led him to a different life than the one he might have had. And it led him to the drop-in and most of all, to Camp Hope. I’ve told you this story because I believe in my heart that if I’d had an experience like Camp Hope, my life, too—at least that sad part of it—might have been so very different. That’s why this council must not sell the property at Maple Lake.
“And for the record, that case of arson Mr. Swainson was referring to? The boys from Camp Hope who were accused have been exonerated. In fact, the arsonist was someone staying at his campground.”
People now turned to stare at the red-faced owner.
Dana went on, “Please renew the lease for Camp Hope so that many more kids will have a chance at a happier life. Thank you.”
As she turned to sit down, Kristen whispered, “Thank you, Dana. You’ve said it all. I’m sitting down, too.”
A woman behind Kristen hesitated, then walked to the mic to say, “This is the first I’ve heard about this sale, but I’m a resident and voter here in Willow Springs and I urge you to reconsider. We need more places like Camp Hope.”
In the hubbub that followed, the mayor decided to close the session and thanked all for coming. A decision on the sale of the land at Maple Lake would be announced by the end of the week.
Dana got up, intending to go to Matt, but saw that he was being rushed by people in the audience. She was swept into the foyer, where she encountered her father and his guest.
“Dad,” she said as she approached them, “why are you here?”
CHAPTER TWENTY
HER FATHER VISIBLY stiffened at her tone. “I thought I mentioned I’d be coming to attend the council session afterward. At any rate, let me introduce you to Michael Lim, the CEO of Nirvana Spa and Resort.”
Dana bit her lip.
“Michael, my daughter, Dana.”
They shook hands and the CEO said, “Pleased to meet you in person, Dana. Also,
a very nice speech. Very moving.”
“Yes,” her father put in, fixing his eyes on hers. “Very interesting, too. We’ll have to get together soon to discuss tonight’s revelations.” He placed a hand on Lim’s arm and said, “We must get to our meeting.” And as he started to lead him away, he added to Dana, “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
She watched them squeeze their way through the exiting crowd, hoping their presence wouldn’t be noticed by Matt or Esperanza and Rosie. Her speech, as the CEO had dubbed it, had been merely the beginning of what she needed to say that night, but the rest was for Matt’s ears only. If she could find him. She scanned the faces leaving the town hall until the crowd had dispersed enough for her to spot some of the camp staff with Kristen and Sandro.
Dana hoped that what she’d said to the council would make up for her lapse in judgment about the sale and her firm’s involvement, at least as far as the Camp Hope staff were concerned. She didn’t just want to not lose Matt. She couldn’t bear to lose the friendship of those staffers.
Some of her qualms settled when Esperanza and Rosie walked arm in arm toward her, smiling. “Thank you, my dear,” Matt’s mother said as they drew near, “for having the courage to tell your story.”
“Yes,” Rosie added. “It was pretty shocking though, to think I might have lost my only sibling.” She paused, her eyes welling up. “But it made me even prouder of my big brother.”
Dana teared up, too. “You’re lucky to have a brother like him.”
“For sure,” Rosie agreed.
“Speaking of Matt, I was hoping to get a chance to talk to him.”
“He’s giving an interview to the local paper,” Esperanza said. “But I think he needs to hear from you.” She patted Dana’s forearm.
“How are you getting home?” Dana asked.
“Matt’s driving us. Before we leave, we thought we’d go get a coffee. There’s a place down the street a bit. Care to join us?” Rosie asked.
Her Kind of Hero Page 21
