Wildflower

by Anne Schraff

  CHAPTER THREE

  For a long while, no call came from the Edson family.

  Jaris was about to get ready for bed when he heard his sister crying. He went down the hall to her room. He tapped lightly on her half-open door. “Chili pepper? Can I come in?” he asked.

  “I guess so,” Chelsea replied.

  Jaris went in and sat on the edge of Chelsea’s bed. “You worrying about Athena, huh?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” Chelsea spoke softly. “She’s not what you think she is, Jaris. She was kinda rude today, but she’s not really like that. She acts tough, but she’s so softhearted. She’s my best friend. Lotta mean girls at school, Jaris, and she’s always got my back. You know what I mean? Like sometimes the mean girls gang up on somebody—me sometimes—and Athena is always there on my side. . . . Oh Jaris, you think she’s okay? I prayed and everything. What if some creepy guy kidnapped her or something?”

  “Chili pepper, does Athena hang around with any special guy at the Twenty-Four-Seven store?” Jaris asked.

  “No,” Chelsea answered. “She usually just drinks sodas and waves at the cars that pass if they have boys in them. Then the cars slow down, and sometimes the guys whistle. Athena likes the attention. I told her not to do that when it got dark. But, you know, sometimes her mom has faculty or department meetings, and her dad always works late. So she’s alone at home and she gets so bored.”

  “Chelsea, you’re right,” her big brother assured her. “It’s bad to hang out there at night. You never know what kind of a guy is out there looking for trouble. Don’t you ever do that, chili pepper, promise?”

  “I promise,” she said.

  The phone rang then and Mom answered it. Both Jaris and Chelsea heard her loud cry. “Oh thank God!”

  Jaris and Chelsea rushed into the living room where Mom was on the phone. She put the phone aside and announced, “Athena is all right. She’s in the hospital. They just took her there to check everything out, but she’s not hurt. Her parents are calling from the ER. They went to the convenience store, but they couldn’t find her. They were home when the police called. Somebody found Athena unconscious in the alley behind the store.”

  “Oh my gosh! What happened?” Chelsea exclaimed.

  Mom shook her head. “They’re giving Athena tests now, but the main thing is, she looks okay. She’ll be overnight in the hospital. If the doctors don’t find anything, she’ll be discharged in the morning.”

  Pop stood there listening. “So what’s the story, Monie?” he asked.

  “They found Athena passed out in the alley,” Mom replied. “She’s in the hospital right now but she seems okay.”

  “Yeah, I heard that. But what happened?” Pop asked.

  Mom looked nervous. She was avoiding telling the rest of the story. Finally she spoke. “Somebody gave Athena some liquor, and she passed out apparently.” Mom shook her head sadly.

  “Oh, that’s beautiful!” Pop declared. “Real nice. Those are classy people there, letting their kid get drunk and pass out.” He looked at Chelsea with a stern glare. “Lissen up, little girl. Don’t you be hanging with her no more. She’s getting stoned with some no-good friends and sleepin’ it off in the alley.”

  “Athena isn’t like that,” Chelsea insisted. “Somebody musta tricked her into drinking that stuff. She’s really a good person. Somebody spiked her soda. She never woulda gotten drunk. She’s a good friend. She’s helps me out a lot.”

  “Oh, I can imagine how she’d like to help you out even more, sharing her booze with you,” Pop said sarcastically.

  “Pop, you’re mean!” Chelsea cried.

  “No, I care about my kid,” Pop responded. “That is something Trudy Edson and her man don’t seem much interested in.” He turned and headed for bed.

  When he was out of earshot, Mom explained what happened to Jaris and Chelsea. “Trudy told me a homeless man was looking for bottles and cans in a trash barrel. He found Athena.” A look of horror was on Mom’s face.

  “Oh wow!” Jaris gasped.

  “The homeless man ran into the convenience store,” Mom went on. “He told them there was an unconscious girl in the alley and they better call 911. He said he didn’t touch her, but he could see her chest moving up and down. So she was still alive. Oh man. Somebody must have given her the liquor and just left her lying there when she passed out. Whoever it was got scared and ran. That is beyond despicable. When you think what could have happened to Athena . . .”

  “Maybe she hooked up with those two guys she was with before,” Jaris suggested. “Heston and Maurice. Heston seemed okay, but that Maurice was a punk. Maybe he’s the one who got her the liquor. They better find out who did this. Anybody who would get a fourteen-year-old girl drunk and then leave her helpless in an alley ought to be in jail.”

  In the morning, Athena Edson was released from the hospital. She went home with her mother. But she wouldn’t be going back to school for another day.

  After school, Chelsea asked Jaris if he would drive her over to Athena’s house. The Edsons lived in a tract house much like the Spain home. All the homes had been built at about the same time during the building boom. They were nice, middle-class, stucco-and-frame houses. The Edsons lived within walking distance of the Spain house, but it was drizzling.

  “Sure, chili pepper,” Jaris said. “I’ve got to study for a history test. So I’ll bring my book along to read while you’re visiting with Athena.”

  Jaris had gotten a good deal on an old Honda Civic. It was handy for getting to school in bad weather and for taking Sereeta out too. And it sure beat having to make her ride on the back of his old motorcycle. Now he and Chelsea took the Honda over to the Edson house.

  Mr. Edson was at work. But Athena’s mother had taken the day off to be with her daughter. When Jaris and Chelsea came in, Athena was sitting in the living room watching TV. She immediately turned the TV off with the remote. “Daytime TV is so stupid,” Athena declared.

  Chelsea rushed over to give Athena a hug. Jaris found a quiet corner to read his history book. “Oh Athena, I was worried sick,” Chelsea told her.

  “Yeah, I feel like such an idiot,” Athena replied.

  Jaris was focusing on the chapter he had to read for Ms. McDowell, his U.S. history teacher. But he overheard snatches of the conversation between his sister and Athena.

  “Some guy stopped his car and came over to talk to me,” Athena explained. “Some kid. He seemed real nice. He looked real young—like fifteen or something. I guess he had to be older cuz he was driving. We hit it off real good, Chel. We talked about music and stuff. He had this sports drink in a bottle, and he asked me if I ever tasted it. I hadn’t . . . I drank some. It tasted real strong, but what do I know? I told him it tasted strong, but he said not to worry and left. And then I got dizzy. I don’t remember after that . . . I guess I sort of blacked out.”

  Athena’s mother came and sat on the arm of Athena’s chair. “Darling, the boy deceived you. He’s a very bad person. I wish you could remember more about him.”

  “He was really cute,” Athena responded. “‘But we didn’t even trade names.”

  Trudy Edson said, “You know, Chelsea, some homeless man found Athena in the alley. Some dirty, half crazy homeless man was there looking at poor, unconscious Athena. Just thinking about it gives me the shudders.”

  “But he called for help,” Chelsea said, “so he must’ve been a good guy.”

  “That’s true,” Mrs. Edson agreed. “The police questioned him very thoroughly. They even took him down to the station. They kept him there until they could make sure he wasn’t the one who gave Athena the liquor, or that he had hurt her in some other way.”

  “I didn’t even see him,” Athena said. “I never would have taken anything from some old homeless man. They scare me just to look at them. Did anybody find out who he was?”

  “The police told me his name,” Mrs. Edson replied. “It seems he’s well-known to them. He’s one of those
dumpster divers who sleep wherever they can and scavenge for food. His name is Harry Jenkins.”

  Jaris looked up from his history book. “Harry Jenkins?” he repeated.

  “Yes,” Mrs. Edson answered. “Do you know him, Jaris?”

  “No,” Jaris said, “but he’s the father of one of my best friends. Chelsea, that’s Trevor’s dad.”

  Chelsea’s eyes widened, and she said, “Wow! Trevor’s dad maybe saved Athena’s life!”

  “It looks like it,” Jaris agreed with a smile. All he had ever heard about Harry Jenkins was bad, and with good reason. He abandoned his wife and four children to fend for themselves when the kids were very young. But now he had done something commendable, and you couldn’t take that away from him.

  “Mom,” Athena asked, “don’t you think we should look that guy up and maybe give him a little something?”

  “Oh no,” Mrs. Edson objected. “I don’t want to get mixed up with some dirty homeless man. Once you get involved with them, they’re on your back. He’ll be expecting more and more help. You never want to get involved with creatures like that.” She shuddered again.

  Jaris looked at Trudy Edson and thought about what his father said. Pop had said she wore so much makeup she looked like a clown. That was true. But she had an even deeper flaw that made Jaris sick. Harry Jenkins found Athena unconscious and helpless, and he got help for her. He probably knew it was dangerous for him to get involved. He probably knew that the police may suspect him of something. Indeed, he had already been rewarded for his Good Samaritan act by being taken to the police station for a grilling. That must have been terrifying for him. But he did the right thing anyway. Jaris thought that, at least in oneway, Harry Jenkins was a better person than Trudy Edson with all her education and charm.

  After Athena and Chelsea shared a snack. Mrs. Edson called from the kitchen. “Don’t tire yourself out, Athena. Maybe Chelsea and Jaris should go home now.”

  Athena leaned over and whispered something to Chelsea. Then she ran into her bedroom and returned quickly with an envelope. She pressed the envelope into Chelsea’s hand. Athena and Chelsea hugged, and Chelsea left with Jaris.

  “Jaris,” Chelsea said when they got outside, “I need a big favor.” It was raining steadily now. Both Chelsea and Jaris had raincoats on.

  “Sure chili pepper,” Jaris agreed. “What is it?”

  “Athena feels so bad that she didn’t get the chance to thank that poor homeless man who helped her,” Chelsea explained. “She got some money for him and a scribbled a thank-you note and she asked me if we could get it to him. Do you think we could find him, Jaris?”

  “Well, we can try,” Jaris said, starting up the car. “That was nice of Athena to want to do something for him. It kinda made me sick that her mom didn’t feel any obligation to the man. After all, he might saved Athena from something awful. Tell you what, chili pepper, Trevor and his mom have nothing to do with Harry Jenkins. But maybe Trevor could help point us in the right direction. He’s told me he sees his father often begging for quarters for booze and cigarettes. So we’ll stop off at Trev’s place.”

  When Jaris and Chelsea rang the bell at the Jenkins’ house, they heard a “C’mon in!” When they entered, they saw that Trevor’s mother had just gotten home from her job at the nursing home. She was half sitting, half lying in the sofa, her shoes off. She looked beat. She was sipping a chocolate nutritional drink. “Hi Jaris, hi Chelsea,” Mickey Jenkins called out, managing a smile that wiped some of the lines from her weary face.

  Trevor came down the hallway, “Hey, you guys!”

  “Hey Trev,” Jaris said right away, “we need some help finding your father.”

  “Oh my Lord in Heaven!” Mickey Jenkins cried out in anguish. “What has the man done now? Hasn’t he caused enough grief in this family?”

  Chelsea spoke up before Jaris had a chance to explain. “No, no, Mrs. Jenkins. This is something good he did. I got this friend, Athena. And some boy got her drunk and she passed out in an alley. She was lying there helpless, and anything coulda happened to her. Mr. Jenkins come along and found her and called 911 and maybe saved her life. And Athena is okay now.”

  “Merciful Lord!” Mickey Jenkins cried, rocking back in the sofa. “The man has been on this earth almost fifty years, and finally he has done something praiseworthy!”

  “Athena, the girl he helped,” Chelsea went on, “she wants to give him a reward. But we don’t know where to find him.”

  “You guys,” Trevor suggested, “I’ll come in the car with you and point out the places where I see him most often. He has sort of a route, places where people are willing to give him something. We might get lucky.”

  The three of them drove off in the rain. Heavy clouds darkened the sky, promising more squalls later on.

  “I can’t believe my old man did the right thing for once,” Trevor said in amazement. “He’s always getting harassed by the cops. He might’ve thought he was asking for trouble to have anything to do with an unconscious kid. I mean, the cops probably thought he was the one who got her drunk.”

  “Yeah,” Jaris agreed. “They took him in and grilled him big time.”

  Trevor shook his head and said, “It kinda took courage to get involved.”

  They cruised past the pool hall where Harry Jenkins sometimes swept up for a few dollars. They went around the corner to the donut shop where they sometimes gave him day-old donuts. They went down the street to a thrift store with a shed out back where sometimes Harry Jenkins crawled in for a night’s sleep.

  “Look, there he is,” Trevor pointed. “He’s been keeping out of the rain in that shed.”

  “He’s all wet. He doesn’t have a raincoat,” Chelsea noted with pity in her voice.

  Jaris was wearing a raincoat. It was a pretty good coat, but it was worn and out of style. He was thinking of getting a new one pretty soon. He thought Harry Jenkins could use a raincoat right now, so he pulled it off. He hesitated for a moment and then stuck a five dollar bill in the raincoat pocket. Chelsea saw the gesture and smiled. She opened the envelope Athena had given her for Jenkins, intending to add five dollars of her own.

  “Oh my gosh!” Chelsea gasped. “Athena put fifty dollars in here. Athena has been saving gift money from her grandparents so she can go on that school trip to Washington, D.C. This must be out of that.” Chelsea also saw the thank-you note, a simple card with a bluebird on it. The scrawled words read, “Thank you Mr. Jenkins for helping me when I was sick in the alley, Athena.”

  Jaris parked the Honda Civic and the three of them got out. Maybe Jenkins recognized Trevor, but if he did, there was no sign of it. The father and son never talked or even acknowledged one another when they passed on the street. Trevor wanted things that way, and perhaps his father did too. Trevor was too bitter to speak, his father was too ashamed, and the gulf between them was too great.

  Trevor stopped about ten feet from where his father stood. He pulled out a five dollar bill and added it to the envelope. Then he said. “I’ll stay back here.”

  When Jaris and Chelsea drew closer, the man seemed to move back, deeper into the shed. He acted as if he was afraid. Jaris was very tall and muscular. And he looked intimidating if you didn’t know him.

  “Whataya want?” the man asked in a husky, whiskey-damaged voice.

  Chelsea held out the envelope. She took the coat from Jaris’s hands and moved a little ahead of him. The man stopped retreating.

  “Mr. Jenkins,” she explained, “the girl you helped in the alley, she’s very grateful. She wants you to have this, and this is from my brother.” Chelsea handed him the envelope and the raincoat. The man looked at both of them as if they were deadly snakes.

  Harry Jenkins didn’t trust these kids. He didn’t trust anybody. He thought they must be playing a trick on him. Chelsea held out the envelope and the raincoat. He stared at them and seemed about to make a run for it—out into the rain from the scant shelter of the shed behind the thrift st
ore.

  “It’s okay, Mr. Jenkins,” Chelsea urged softly. “Please take these. We want you to have them.”

  The sweetness of the girl’s voice finally won him over. He came forward. His hands shook. He looked like he had a bad case of the shakes, delirium tremens—the shakes that long-time alcoholics sometimes have. His fingers closed on the envelope, and he grasped the raincoat. He looked in the envelope and gasped. It was more money he had seen together in one place in years. It looked like a fortune to him.

  Harry Jenkins turned and hurried off, carrying the raincoat and the envelope. He didn’t say a word. He was almost running. Maybe he feared that it was some kind of a joke and that they would all laugh and take everything back from him. Sometimes kids played tricks on Harry Jenkins and the other homeless men. They pretended to give them a sandwich in a little foam container. When they opened the container, it was filled with sand, and the kids would laugh.

  The man stopped under a streetlight about a hundred yards away, and they saw him put on the raincoat. Then, hunched over, he disappeared into the misty darkness.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The three of them walked back to the Civic. Jaris said, “Thanks man, for helping us find him.” Trevor said nothing. Trevor’s heart was filled with a terrible crushing sadness that this was his father. His father’s life had come to this. Yet he felt a strange sense of peace that he had been able to salvage one good memory of Harry Jenkins.

  They all went inside the Jenkins’s house and Mickey Jenkins looked up. “Did you find him?” she asked.

  “Yeah Ma,” Trevor answered. “He was in the shed behind the thrift store. He sleeps there a lot.”

  “What’d he say?” Trevor’s mother asked.

  “Nothing,” Trevor replied. “He didn’t say anything, Ma.”