by JR Thompson
Collin and Remington worked together to help him get into bed.
The stranger didn’t speak — he didn’t have to. His tears showed the appreciation he had for such a hospitable family. It had been a long time since he had known such compassion.
Snuggling under warm, dry, clean blankets, his tears drops became fountains. Finally, he thought. Finally, I picked the right place to turn to.
Seconds into his crying spell, the man found himself being slightly distracted by a quiet conversation taking place just outside the guest room door. With a humongous, suffocating squeeze, Remington had said, “Thank you, Dad! I’m proud of you.”
How delightful is that. I always speculated it was the fathers who were supposed to be proud of their offspring. I guess it takes all species to enable the world’s revolving.
“Good night, Remmy,” he heard Collin whisper in reply. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
◆◆◆
As Collin approached the master bedroom, one end of a conversation fell on his ears — he quietly cracked the door and peeked inside.
With her head bowed, Alayna was on her knees next to their bed. She was crying while speaking with God, “…and I know I made a vow when I married him. I know I said I would obey him. That’s hard for me sometimes. God, I know he loves me. I know he’s supposed to be the leader of our home. But Lord, it’s so, so hard to obey him when he’s making such a horrendous mistake. Lord, will you please speak to his heart? Will you please give him wisdom?”
A horrendous mistake? Collin thought. You think I’m making a horrendous mistake because I let a homeless man come inside and get warm?
At first, Collin found himself beginning to get righteously indignant. That was, until guilt began to settle in — that was Alayna’s personal conversation with God and he had no business eavesdropping.
Creeping down the hall, Collin stepped just outside the back door. Following his wife’s example, he knelt down on the porch and began to pray himself — asking God to show his wife where she was wrong. He begged God to help Alayna believe in him like she did when they first got married. “And Lord,” he added, “please help me love my wife the way you want me to. Help me not let her down. Please prevent me from making any decisions that could potentially bring harm to the family you have entrusted me with.”
When he returned to the room, Alayna tossed him a concerned look, but didn’t say a word.
“Hon, you know we’re doing the right thing,” he assured her as he began changing into his night clothes.
“Hmmm,” Alayna replied. “Are you sure you’re thinking things through?”
“Absolutely,” Collin told her.
“Then why didn’t you insist he take a bath before getting into Remmy’s bed? The bum could have lice or worse. Did you think to search the man? He might have drugs on him. Did you give him anything to eat?”
“Point taken,” Collin mumbled.
◆◆◆
“Breakfast is ready!” Mom shouted bright and early the next morning. “Come and get it!”
The aroma of sizzling bacon, scrambled eggs, and buttermilk biscuits saturated the house. Dad didn’t hesitate to get himself into the dining room to give his digestive system something to break down.
Remington, on the other hand, needed some additional persuasion. Okay, Remmy. Here we go again, Mom thought.
Taking a pot in her left hand and a pan in her right, she marched into the living room with a mischievous smile on her face. Banging her instruments together, she sang, “It’s a great day to praise the Lord!” at the top of her lungs.
As Remmy’s eyelids popped open, he cupped his hands over his ears. “I’m awake, I’m awake,” he moaned. Within seconds, the breakfast aroma inundated his nostrils. He raced into the dining room, where he asked, “Where’s the guy from last night?”
That’s a good question, Mom thought. “Collin, sweetheart, would you mind seeing if our guest needs some assistance getting out here?”
“Sure thing, hon,” Collin said.
“I’ll come with you,” Remmy volunteered.
Not thinking that was the best idea, Mom insisted Remington wait in the dining room with her.
As she and Remington sat down at the table to wait, muffled voices filtered in from the other room.
Come on, Collin. Our breakfast is getting cold.
A few minutes passed before Collin came back into the room. Alayna gave him a concerned, questioning glance, but didn’t speak a word.
In a hushed tone, Collin said, “That guy is quite interesting. When I went in there, he appeared to be gazing right through the ceiling. I asked how he was feeling and you would not believe the answer he gave me. He said something like, ‘Exceptionally well, due entirely to the hospitality provided by your exquisite household.”
Alayna giggled, “No way! He didn’t talk like that?”
“Oh, yes he did,” Collin chuckled.
“What’s his name, Dad?” Remmy interrupted.
“Brock Pearson.”
“Is he coming out to eat breakfast with us?”
“I asked him that — using some fancy words, he admitted he was famished and asked if it would be too uncouth for him to remain in his ‘divine bed’ a little while longer. He suggested we save a portion of the cuisine for his later consumption,” Collin said, not really meaning to mock the odd visitor.
Alayna wasted no time in reminding her dear, sweet husband that Brock needed to be driven into town as soon as he was up and about.
Remmy, on the other hand, made it known that he did not agree. The thirteen, going on twenty-five-year-old, insisted Brock needed some help. If he had a job, he could support himself financially, find his own place, buy his own food, and maybe even get married and have his own family. He couldn’t do that on his own though; he needed help. Brock needed an address so he could apply for jobs. He needed clothes so he could go in for interviews. He needed transportation to and from work. He needed a lot of help, “and” Remington added, “God brought him to us for a reason.”
“I understand where you’re coming from, son,” Mom told him, “but you’re not an adult. You haven’t seen the things your Dad and I have seen. This is not a decision for you to make. Let the adults worry about it.”
As the words slipped off of her tongue, Brock sauntered into the room wearing the clothes Collin had laid out for him. Apparently, the smell of food was more appealing than remaining buried beneath his blankets. The transient reeked worse than a five-gallon bucket filled with dead night crawlers. His shaggy, greasy hair remained uncombed, his face and arms were covered with layers of dirt, and his beard was anything but neat or trimmed.
“Morning,” he said.
“You can sit next to me,” Remington offered, pointing to the empty chair next to him.
Shrugging her shoulders, Mom raised one eyebrow and gave her son a look that said, “You are definitely your father’s boy.”
After breakfast, Alayna insisted on staying behind to get caught up on her homemaking duties while Collin and Remington gave Brock a ride into town. She still wasn’t comfortable with the man, no matter how the rest of her family felt. The less I have to be around him, the better, she thought.
◆◆◆
About ten minutes into their drive, Remington broke the silence. “Brock, do you like being homeless?”
“Remmy, that was completely inconsiderate and uncalled for! Don’t talk to our guest that way,” Dad scolded. He was humiliated. Have we not taught him better social skills than that?
“Your young man didn’t run astray. Boys will be boys,” Brock responded. “No, I don’t revel in being devoid of my own place of residence; it was never my intention to partake in this category of meager existence.”
Remington, obviously appreciating the man’s openness, fired off another question, “Well, if you could have a fresh start, what would you rather be doing with your life?”
This will be interesting, Dad thought. That boy of min
e. What will he think of next?
Chuckling, Brock replied, “No one has ever presented me with such an inquiry as that. However, the subject is one which I have pondered. If I could cast one aspiration upon a star and reel it back in as a reality, tomorrow morning I would wake up as the director one of those foundations which make dreams come true for those plagued with terminal illnesses. I presume that’s where the depth of my heart could be discovered.”
The Jeep was filled with silence again. Collin nor Remington had expected such an answer to come from a man who would have been content counting sheep on their doorstep the night before. They were beginning to see homeless people in an entirely different light.
No one spoke a word until they arrived at the bus station. Then, Collin made a proposition that shocked his two passengers, “Brock, I’ve been praying most of the way here. I don’t want to just pay for a bus fare to get you out of Clayville and into a more populated part of Rhode Island where you can start crashing in a homeless shelter. I want to help you get back on your feet. What do you think?”
Brock looked confused, “Would you mind elaborating on that inquiry? I fear I may have misunderstood.”
“What if we let you live with us for three months? During that time, we will help you find a job, get back and forth to work, set up a bank account, and get some money saved up. At the end of those three months, we’ll help you get a place to stay and make sure you have transportation. Would you work with us to improve your life?”
Brock teared up again, “How might your helpmate view this proposition?”
Hesitating for a moment, Collin said, “My wife will be very supportive. She’s a wonderful Christian lady; I’m certain she will want our family to do everything in our power to help a person in need.”
With that, Brock agreed to stay.
Collin spouted off some rules Brock would have to follow while residing in their household — there would be no drinking of alcoholic beverages, no illegal drugs of any kind, no cigarettes, and no cursing. Furthermore, Brock would attend church with them three times per week and take part in their nightly family devotions.
The trip home was full of excitement and planning.
◆◆◆
Strolling out on the porch to greet her family, Alayna’s defense shield engaged the moment she saw Brock sitting in the passenger seat. What has my foolish husband gone and done now? Why did he bring the beggar back to our house?
Alayna quickly stole Collin away from their guest, insisting they needed to have a chat. She told Collin she feared he had made a horrible decision. Her gut screamed something wasn’t right. She couldn’t place her finger on what was wrong, but something about this arrangement made her downright nauseous.
Collin begged her to trust him on this one. He told her he had talked to God; he hadn’t acted irrationally. He insisted the decision he made was the right one.
“I’ve got my work cut out for me today, hon,” he told her. “I’m going to help prepare this guy for the working world.”
◆◆◆
After getting his hair cut and his beard trimmed, as well as acquiring several new changes of clothing, it was time for the real fun to begin.
“So, tell me,” Collin said with pen and paper in front of him, “what kind of work experience do you have?”
Brock told him he had owned his own contracting business. “That’s really all I’ve done for the last ten years or so,” he said.
“So you don’t have any previous employers that could serve as references?”
“Not really employers so to speak, but my former customers could vouch for my work ethic.”
From the semi-scowl on his face, Brock could tell that wasn’t the answer Collin was hoping for.
After a brief silence, Collin asked, “If we use your customers for professional references, who do you have for character references? You know, non-relatives you weren’t employed by, who will have nothing but glowing things to say about you?”
Brock’s eyes moved toward the ceiling, then toward the window beside of him. “I don’t know who to list,” he said. “Will you be a character reference for me?”
“Brock, you know I would in a heartbeat, but the truth is I haven’t known you very long. You need to be ready to supply references of people who have known you for a minimum of two years. Even if I had known you that long, I don’t have a phone. They couldn’t contact me if they tried to.”
All afternoon Collin sat with Brock trying to prepare him to reenter the work force. He prepped him with potential questions employers might ask, made sure he knew his address, and stressed the importance of maintaining good eye contact. “Oh, and one more thing,” Collin told him before breaking for the evening. “Those shoes have to go! You walk into a job interview sporting those things, and they’re going to laugh you right out of there. Shoes say a lot about a man. If you want to be respected, your footwear must look and smell nice. Shoes that say, ‘I take myself seriously and I take care of my belongings.’ Come in here and I’ll let you borrow a couple pairs of mine. I’m sure we’re similar in size.”
◆◆◆
Alayna tossed and turned all night. I can’t believe my precious little boy is going to be sleeping on the couch every night for three months! Our finances are already tighter than a tourniquet and Collin thinks it’s the right thing to do to take on additional responsibility. I’m supposed to be okay with us paying for a complete stranger’s food and transportation for ninety days?
When the alarm clock sounded, Alayna whispered, “Collin, I think I’m sick. I’m not going to be able to go to church this morning.”
She told him her stomach had been in knots all night long and she hadn’t slept well. She had kept the belly ache; her head was spinning and she thought it best to stay in bed. Alayna apologized and asked Collin to have the church pray for her.
As soon as her husband left the room, Alayna began to imagine what her kitchen was going to look like after Collin had finished making breakfast — that is, if he didn’t burn the house down. She remembered the last time she had been sick. Collin tried to bring her breakfast in bed, but he forgot one small detail. Aluminum foil and microwave ovens don’t mix any better than water and electricity. He had completely destroyed their microwave.
As she worried, music filled her ears. “All right, fellas,” she heard Collin say. “Breakfast is served. On today’s menu we have two choices — Cheerios with milk or Cheerios without milk. By the way, I promise I didn’t burn them!”
Atta boy, honey, Alayna thought. If you can make meals without cooking, we’ll both be better off!
◆◆◆
Arriving at Shooting Star Baptist Church, Brock insisted he would sit on the back pew by himself; he didn’t want to be too close to the preacher.
Pastor Brown taught a sermon on God’s ability to transform trials into blessings. On the way home, it was all Brock wanted to talk about. He couldn’t believe how much wisdom that preacher had. His message was just for me, he thought. I wonder how God is going to flip around the hardships I’m facing.
“Brock, can I ask you a question without being offensive?” Collin asked as they pulled up to the house.
“The crinkled pages of my life are available for public display. Ask whatever pleases you.”
“Well — what happened? I mean, how did you become homeless?”
Brock’s face turned a creepy pale color. He made eye contact with Remington in the rearview mirror, glanced over at Collin, and kind of nodded toward the boy as if to say, “I don’t really think Remington needs to hear this.”
Collin didn’t take the hint. He just sat there, awaiting a reply.
“Well,” Brock said, “First, I must provide you with information pertaining to my background. My father was a professor at Harmony Community College. It became his desire to have me trace his footsteps with my career choice. Being the cantankerous young man I was, I dove into an entrepreneurship – against my father’s desire, I became a
handyman. I was married and my wife and I had a twelve-year-old son. To make a long story short, a false allegation was spoken of me. It was said I had been… that I was a…,” he stammered, glancing back at Remington again. “They accused me of being an anthropophagite. Please tell me you know what that is.”
◆◆◆
Collin had never heard of an anthropophagite in his life. However, he was not about to allow his son to see that a homeless man had a higher vocabulary than he did. Collin lied through his pearly whites, claiming he knew exactly what an anthropophagite was.
Brock went on, “Well, my wife and my son were deceived by those terrible untruths. My wife perceived a notion that I wasn’t safe around our son and —”
Afraid of where the conversation might go, Collin cut him off and said they should probably continue the discussion one-on-one some other time.
Later that evening, Collin sat down with Brock to schedule Monday’s activities.
“Listen, I have to be at work tomorrow morning at 10:30 am. That means we’re going to have to get up early so you can do your job hunting. I’ll go with you to show you around town and to help you pick up some applications. While I’m at work, I’ll let you drive the Jeep, but you’ll need to pick me back up at 6:30 pm.”
Collin was about as comfortable allowing Brock to drive his Jeep as a computer nerd would have been playing football. However, he was itching to see Brock reenter the workforce and make something of himself. It was something that had to be done.
Immediately following that conversation, the guys decided it was time for bed. Morning would arrive before they knew what had hit them.
When Collin entered the master bedroom, he interrupted Alayna’s Bible reading, “Hon, we need to talk — it’s about something Brock said a little while ago.”
“What’s that?” Alayna asked.
Collin shook his head. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything. Alayna is a worrywart. If she knows what I know, things could get pretty hairy.
“Collin, what did he say?” she asked.
