Unbreakable Hope

by Kristin Billerbeck

  “I don’t care if you’re buying it or not, Miss Jensen. You are gorgeous! Do you have a coat? It will be cold up there tonight.”

  Emily laughed. “I grew up in the Bay Area. I know about San Francisco nights. Brrr.” She pretended to shiver then grabbed a coat. Darin took it from her and laid it over his arm, offering her the other one.

  “You ready to meet the kids?”

  “How many of them are going?”

  “Well, eight are signed up. How many actually go depends on how many show up, and that could be none. I’ve learned not to depend too greatly on the kids.”

  “None?”

  “One thing I’ve learned about working in EPA is that time means nothing. It’s a very arbitrary thing, the clock.”

  Emily laughed. “You got those boys to church on time yesterday.”

  “Only because I went to their house, and honked very early in the morning. That bugged their mothers, so they were out in a flash. There’s an old saying, if Mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy. And Mama’s sleep after a long week of working two jobs is pretty important.”

  “You’re kidding me. You honked outside the house?”

  “Like I said, I’ve learned a bit in the last year. Today they have to come to me though. The tickets will be waiting at the door, and they’ll give them away to someone else if the boys don’t come.”

  “How did you get the restaurant to donate the meals?”

  “I called and asked them. It’s criminal that these boys should live so close to Fisherman’s Wharf and never have eaten crab or San Franciscan sourdough. I told the manager that, and he agreed. I also told him we’d put an ad in the church bulletin for people who can afford the dinner. They usually say no, but once in awhile. . .”

  “I can hardly wait! I love crab season. I’ve been dreaming about it all day.”

  Once they arrived at the Bayshore House, Darin saw a few kids milling out front. “It looks like a few of them showed up.”

  Emily squinted to look at the boys. “These are all new kids from yesterday.”

  “These kids all have grandmothers who make them go to their own church. Bless their hearts. The boys I brought yesterday are on their own most of the time, and their mothers appreciate the break on Sunday mornings. I only invited African-American kids tonight because this play is in a theatre that only does performances by black playwrights or plays that represent black history.”

  “How wonderful that they would think of those less fortunate kids in the audience.”

  “Think of it, I think that’s part of the reason they do it. Maybe it will inspire one of these kids to write someday, and these kids have had so much tragedy, yet they still have an unbreakable hope at the same time.”

  Darin got out and opened Emily’s door. The boys laughed at him for his chivalry. “Hey, what are you all laughing at? Do you have a date tonight?”

  The boys broke into laughter again. “Nah, man, we’re white.”

  Darin pulled out one of his pockets and translated. “White means poor. You only have the whites of your pockets. Emily, meet Reggie, Lonnie, and Sean.”

  All of the boys went beyond his expectations and shook Emily’s hand. She asked each one about their school and took an active interest in their answers. He couldn’t hide his pleasure. The exchange made him think he and Emily weren’t too far apart. She loved kids. He loved kids. Surely, everything else could be sorted out.

  With all the formalities out of the way, Darin looked at the boys. “Are you all that’s coming?”

  “Yeah. Danny and Rock had football practice, and Damien’s grandma wouldn’t let him go.” At the last information all three boys broke into laughter. Rules were a comical thing in this town. And someone who adhered to them was absolute hilarity.

  “All right then. We don’t have to take the van. We can just take my car.”

  “Yeah! The grandpappy mobile,” Reggie said to the amusement of his friends.

  “The boys don’t think my car is too cool.”

  “We liked the one he crashed. Not that we ever saw it.” Sean crossed his arms. “But five liters of power and all those horses under the hood, and he has to go and total it before he gets here.”

  “You’re lucky I’m here to talk about it. Now get in.” Darin winked at Emily as he opened her door. “You don’t mind riding in the grandpappy mobile, do you?”

  Emily patted his Buick. “I’m a teacher in the San Francisco Bay Area. This is luxury to me. Everyone I know drives a compact of some sort, usually with a dent or two.”

  Darin thought he’d like to be in a compact tonight, with just the two of them, but his heart was full that she would come out with the boys. His joy felt complete.

  Once in the car, the boys quickly commandeered his radio, and current rap tunes blared from the speakers. About halfway to the city, Reggie spoke up.

  “Yo, we ain’t eatin’ none of that crab. Just sose you know.”

  Emily turned around and spoke for Darin, almost verbatim what he was thinking. “You boys can order a hamburger, but you have to at least try the crab. Otherwise, I’ll have to tell the other guys you were too chicken.” She shook her head and clicked her tongue. “That’s gonna be embarrassing.”

  Darin could see Reggie’s shock in the rearview mirror. “She’s tough, huh?”

  “Oh, man, that ain’t right.” Sean crossed his arms in mock disgust.

  Once in San Francisco, Darin found parking fairly easily since it was Monday night. As he watched Emily and the boys climb from the car, his stomach twisted. This was how he wanted life to be. A beautiful woman and a ministry he loved. Life didn’t get any better than this, and he hoped Emily saw it the same way.

  Seven

  San Francisco’s Fisherman’s Wharf brought a certain excitement to Emily no matter how many times she visited. The steady tapping beat of the crab-crackers, the caw of gulls, and the sour yeasty smell of French bread mingled to create the perfect outdoor ambiance. The evening was remarkably warm, absent of fog, and both Alcatraz and Angel Island could be seen from shore. The red Golden Gate rose nobly in the background, and although Emily had lived her entire life in the vicinity, she marveled all over again. San Francisco was truly a beautiful city, one of the most beautiful in the world. She breathed in all the sights and sounds, noticing the boys did the same. Even in their “coolness” they were awed. Nature and manmade architecture coexisted magnificently in San Francisco, and Emily wondered if anyone could see it for the first time without a dropped jaw.

  Reggie put his hands in his coat. A coat made for a remote winter in Alaska, not a fog-free Indian summer evening in San Francisco. But one never knew with this city. The fog could roll in anytime, and they’d all be freezing as if they were on a polar island. There was something about San Francisco cold that was unlike snow cold; it seeped into your body subtly, not like a biting frosty cold.

  “San Francisco is the most beautiful city on earth.” Emily finally let her thoughts loose.

  Reggie bobbed his head up and down. “It’s pretty decent.”

  Sean scanned the sailboats. “Not bad.”

  The rigging of the boats clanked joyously, and the salty air filled with colorful sights and sounds. The blue of the bay, the stark contrast of Angel Island, and the pristine white of boats in the harbor—it all delighted Emily’s senses just as it had when she’d come with her parents as a child.

  “Just being here makes me crave food. I always thought it was the chill of the evenings that made me hungry, but there’s something Pavlovian about being here. It makes me want to eat.”

  Darin laughed and took her hand in his. She shivered at his touch. The boys all seemed to notice the motion but said nothing. Their respect for Darin gleamed obvious as they smiled among themselves.

  “I think you’re right. It’s more palatable without the sea lions here. Their bark takes away some of my appetite.” Darin laughed. “Okay, their smell doesn’t do much for me either.”

  �
�They’ll be back in January. We’d better eat while the season is right.” Emily felt like a child in a wonderland. Being out on a Monday night, when she normally would have been correcting papers or working around the clock on lesson plans, overwhelmed her. She felt free.

  Alioto’s Restaurant had been on Fisherman’s Wharf since Emily was a small child, and probably long before. She remembered her own parents forcing gooey clam chowder down her once a year. To this day she couldn’t stand the stuff, but she knew it was a delicacy to most. As the rag-tag little group headed to the renowned restaurant, the setting brought warm emotions to the surface of her mind. Happy times—before her brother disappeared, before her mother had become so overwhelming.

  “My mom and dad used to take me and my brother here at least once a year.”

  “Mine too,” Darin said.

  “While you all is strolling memory lane, we be hungry,” Sean quipped in bad English.

  Darin laughed. “Y’all ought to be strolling grammar lane.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Sean answered. “You date a teacher and we’s supposed to talk like Shakespeare.”

  Emily bristled at the word usage but couldn’t help her laughter, and she tried to put her teacher’s voice to use. “Poor grammar makes people think you’re stupid. And I’ve heard enough to know you’re not stupid.”

  “Man, not in the hood it don’t. We start talking like you, we get our—” Reggie snapped his mouth shut. “Never mind.”

  Emily listened to the banter with interest. She’d spent her whole life in the Bay Area, and she’d never known anyone from the “hood” as they called it. With a mixture of fascination and disbelief, she realized tonight was the first time she’d stepped out of her comfort zone and her own upscale city. Even if she was poorer than a church mouse while living there and educating the wealthy kids, she’d never know what it was like to be in the hood. Or so she hoped.

  Her gaze traveled to Darin’s muscular form, his set jaw. She knew she would be protected this evening. But how realistic was a date like this? And another? And another? Darin had his world, and she had hers. Barricaded and protected was the life she knew how to live. Darin lived his life without training wheels or brakes. She felt herself shiver.

  Close to the restaurant, a homeless man shifted on the dock, and Emily jumped and clutched her chest. For a moment she thought she imagined the movement, but the shifting continued. His clothes were an ashen gray that blended into the salt-worn wood of the building. The man’s stench was horrible. His brown beard was covered with bits of food, and Emily felt sick to her stomach. It was hard to tell where his beard ended and his face began, so gray in tone was he.

  Reggie approached the man and Emily nearly pulled him back, but Reggie dwarfed the man. “Yo, man, you okay?” As the man rolled upwards, Reggie pulled back. “Whoa!” His nose twitched.

  The man nodded that he was all right and started mumbling to himself. Why weren’t people like this in proper facilities? Suddenly Emily felt alone in the bustling area. Everyone walked right past them, and she wondered why they weren’t doing the same thing, moving on. Yes, they were Christians, but this man was beyond help—steeped in alcohol and his own world.

  “You hungry, man?” Sean asked.

  Darin just stood behind, taking it all in and not saying a word. Emily wanted to call the police. She kept her cell phone clutched tightly in her hand in case the man made a move, but she guessed he had some kind of right to be there. It was a public place, but he certainly was doing nothing for her appetite.

  “Ch–change?” the man finally stammered. “You got any change?” He sat up when he noticed the group gathering around him, but his position looked precarious—as if he might fall at any moment.

  “No, man, no change. You hungry?” Lonnie said.

  “Yeah, I need money for food.” The homeless man moved like a sea lion, bulky and slow. But when he moved, Emily automatically felt herself stepping backwards on the pier. The boys, however, stepped closer, and Darin still did nothing to stop them. He held up a palm, like he knew she was annoyed, but he wanted to see the scene played out. If they all ended up dead in the Bay, she wondered if he’d chalk that up to experience too. She’d been a teacher for too long to willingly allow kids to enter into danger.

  “We ain’t got no money, man. We’ll get you some food if you’s hungry.”

  The man just nodded slowly in resignation. Without checking with Darin first, Lonnie rushed across the street and dodged into a convenience store. Emily watched the whole thing in disbelief.

  “You’re just letting him go over there by himself?”

  “He’s 275 pounds! Who’s going to mess with Lonnie?”

  “He’s a minor child. Alone in the city.”

  Darin looked at her. Then he looked deeper into her eyes, and the spirit of fire she carried for the moment left her like a torch drenched in water. Darin, though burly and broad in the shoulders, moved with the grace of a dancer. He stepped lightly toward her, his eyes gentle and concerned.

  “Emily, you worry too much. Lonnie lives in East Palo Alto. Fisherman’s Wharf has nothing on him. It’s all right. I promise. I’m not going to let anything happen to the kids.”

  Emily felt her face flush red. “You’re responsible to Lonnie’s parents for his well-being tonight.”

  “I am concerned with his well-being, Emily, but God’s ultimately responsible for it. I can’t let a man go hungry because of fear.” Darin whispered loudly and with enough force that Emily’s angst returned with a vengeance. She was not heartless, but who knew what this man hid under his filthy jacket? Darin pulled her aside, away from the two boys, who hovered over the homeless lump.

  “Lonnie has a heart as big as the Pacific Ocean. The boys are hungry, they said so themselves, but they cared more about that man getting some dinner because they know they aren’t that hungry. So I’ve got time for that.” Darin’s tone was that of an angry principal, and Emily felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle in her defiance. But he continued. “Lonnie has been given nothing in this lifetime and yet still has time for good character. So, yes, I’m responsible to Lonnie’s mother, and tonight I’ll tell her, if she happens to be home at midnight, that her son is a quality human being. Despite her pathetic upbringing.”

  Emily wanted to crawl into a discarded crab shell. She felt the sting of tears, the threat of them spilling, but she refused to give way to them. He saw her only as coldhearted and icy, but she just wanted to protect the children. Why didn’t Darin see that?

  “I’ll wait over by the restaurant.”

  Darin grasped her arm gently. “Emily, I don’t want you hanging out in the city by yourself. You’re safe with me. I promise.” He looked at the boys. “You’re all safe with me, and most importantly, you’re safe with Jesus.” He turned and looked at Emily. “What are you so scared of?”

  Afraid of, she wanted to correct him. She was reminded that the beauty of San Francisco was much darker in the company of Darin Black. Her parents had each grasped one of her hands, lifting her in elation as they walked the pier. Now she stood beside a homeless man who obviously hadn’t seen a bath in weeks. She waited on a linebacker-sized kid from the hood while he did his good deed, and everyone was just fine with the situation but her. She was not callous. She was cautious.

  It wasn’t that she didn’t have a heart, but they had missions for this. She gave her old coats and blankets every year to the local shelters. That didn’t mean she wanted to stand in trembling fear with a crazy man who talked to himself and didn’t bathe. She wasn’t heartless, she was savvy and level-headed. And right now she wished Darin was the same way.

  She pushed a few tendrils of hair over her ears. “I shouldn’t have come. I suppose that’s what you’re thinking right now. I’m sorry if I’m ruining your fun.”

  Darin grimaced, obviously not wanting to discuss this in front of the boys. He pulled her to the fence that protected them from the water below. “On the contrary. I’m
ecstatic you’re here with me, but I want you to believe in me, Emily. I wouldn’t put you in danger, and I’m not going to let anyone hurt you.” The dinging of the sailboats clanged more insistently as a gust of wind blew forth.

  Let anyone hurt me. Like thieves came up and asked for permission. As Emily opened her mouth to speak, Lonnie came darting across the street, a small carton of milk and a hot dog foil in his hand. He gave the food to the homeless man.

  “Here, man, it’s hot. Be careful,” Lonnie said as the man devoured half the hot dog in one bite.

  He sat up and smiled broadly at the boy. “You thought I’d use the money for drink.”

  Lonnie nodded. “Yeah, man. You don’t smell like you need more drink.”

  The homeless man laughed, and Emily saw his humanity for the first time. She swallowed hard and turned away, unwilling to face her emotions. Fine, so he was human. She still wished she were inside the restaurant away from the dark reminders of San Francisco’s seedier side.

  The man eliminated the rest of the hot dog and nodded. “Thank ya kindly, Kid.”

  “It ain’t nothing, man,” Lonnie said. “You’d do the same for me if you could.”

  With that, the three boys headed toward the restaurant, and Emily followed with Darin at her side. He smoothed his shaved head. “Those boys have hearts of gold, huh?”

  She pursed her mouth shut for fear of saying what she felt. She’d imagined a night of romantic bliss, not a night in the depths of humanity learning some kind of valuable social lesson. This wasn’t A Christmas Carol. She wasn’t Scrooge.

  “You know, Darin, I don’t mean to be rude. But I was taught that people like that man back there were dangerous. I was taught it’s quite inane to give them anything because they become dependent on handouts. Give a man a fish and all that.” She tried to keep her voice down so the boys didn’t hear her chastising Darin. “I don’t know that you’ve taught the boys anything of value here. You could have placed them in a dangerous situation.”