Fool's Gold
Page 18
“Just don’t turn into a workaholic like I am,” he warns me as he sits down on the other side of the counter.
“I don’t plan on it.”
“Are you going back to your old hours next week?”
I consider this. “If you don’t mind, I’d really like to keep up the long days for just two more weeks.”
“Saving up for something special?” he asks. “Or just college?”
I feel my cheeks growing warm. “Not exactly,” I say. Then I decide, even though it’s humiliating, to just be honest. “I think I got in over my head,” I admit.
“Over your head?” He frowns. “What do you mean? Don’t tell me you’ve gotten into gambling.” He grins now. “I’ve heard that’s a problem with some of the employees. In fact, we’re going to put something about it in the policy book this week.”
I smile. “No, that’s not it.” Then I tell him about the Macy’s card and how I blew almost my entire $2,000 draw on ridiculous clothes. “I don’t know what came over me. I thought I had to dress like a celebrity or something.”
He shakes his head. “I think I know what came over you. And they both live under this roof.”
“No,” I say quickly. “It’s not their fault. Really. I made my own choices. I’m just not used to the lifestyle here. And I temporarily forgot that I’m not as wealthy as — ”
Uncle Ron takes in a slow breath. “Without mentioning names, there are a couple of other people in this house who are having the same problem.” He runs his fingers through his short-cropped hair. “And if they don’t slow it down, we could be heading for trouble.”
“Truly?”
He nods. “Not that I should be burdening you with this, Hannah. I’ve already talked to both of them and they don’t seem to be taking me seriously. If I put a spending limit on one credit card, they just open another account. You should see the bills pouring in every month.”
Now I feel even worse as I consider how Aunt Lori cosigned on my Macy’s card. So I admit this to him. “But I’ll have it completely paid off in two weeks,” I promise him. “As well as what I owe you.”
He laughs. “That’s peanuts, Hannah. I mean, compared to what Lori and Vanessa have racked up in bills.”
Then I tell him what Vanessa said about the Oprah show and how she thinks she might be a shopping addict. I know it might be wrong to snitch on her, but I reckon if she’s really addicted, she might need help. He considers this. “You’re probably on to something.”
“Please don’t tell her I told you.”
“Don’t worry. I had my suspicions already.”
“Are you really in financial trouble?” I ask him, feeling truly concerned now.
He laughs but not with humor. “Oh, I don’t know . . . the business is doing okay. But we’re sure not as rich as Lori and Vanessa think. I wish those two would slow it down. And I do need to be putting more money away and back into the business, or we really could go belly-up. I guess it’s up to me to put my foot down.”
I feel sorry for him now. “I’m sure that won’t be easy.”
“Ever try to stop a moving freight train?”
I shake my head.
“You get the picture.” Then he refills his coffee and excuses himself as he heads to his office to work, I’m sure. Maybe he is a workaholic. And maybe Aunt Lori and Vanessa are shopaholics. Maybe they all need therapy.
I plan to ring Jessie a little later when she’s had time to wake up properly. I want to tell her about my dream and what happened early this morning. I reckon she’ll understand. And who knows, maybe we can go surfing again someday.
I putter around the house, picking up in the kitchen since Consuela hasn’t been in since Friday. Then I finally decide to ring Jessie. I’m all ready to leave her a message, but to my surprise, she actually answers the phone.
“Sorry for ringing you so early,” I say quickly.
“No problem. I was just getting ready to go to church.”
“Church?” I say the word as if it’s something foreign to me.
“Remember?” she says. “That’s the place where believers get together to worship God and stuff.”
“Right.” Then I laugh. “That sounds good.”
“Sounds good?” she asks. “Meaning you’d like to go?”
“I reckon I would.”
“Well, hold on to that thought, and I’ll pick you up in about twenty minutes. Think you can be ready by then?”
“Sure.”
So we hang up and I go upstairs to change my clothes. But as I stand there looking into my closet, I’m not even sure what Yanks wear to church. Back at the mission we usually dressed up a bit. But I recall seeing Jessie in trousers that time when she was just coming home from a service. Finally I decide on a white shirt, khaki skirt, and sandals — all from Ross Dress for Less. Boring perhaps, but at least these clothes are paid for. And if I’m going to worship God, I don’t want to be distracted by nagging thoughts of debt.
As Jessie drives us to church, I tell her about my dream and recommitment to God.
“That’s so cool,” she says. “I’ve really been praying for you, Hannah. I sensed that God was working on you.”
“Thanks,” I tell her. “I really appreciate that.” And I remember that Sophie has been praying for me too. I’ll have to e-mail her and let her know that God was listening. I’m sure she’ll be relieved, but knowing Sophie, she probably won’t be surprised. For the first time it occurs to me that Sophie’s faith has probably been more genuine than mine all along. Maybe because she came to God when she was older. Or maybe just because of the way God made her. But I think I will be better able to relate to her about spiritual things now. I feel as if my eyes have finally been opened.
As I sit through the service at Jessie’s church, I can’t believe how much I feel at home. It’s completely different from the mission church I’m used to, and yet it’s very similar too. I can’t explain it. But somehow it feels deeply familiar, like a good friend you never realized you’ve always had. Like God.
Then a funny thing happens when they pass the collection plate around. I’ve already decided that I’m going to put in a twenty — a pretty big deal for me considering how stingy I’ve been lately. But I’m happy to give this money to God. And as I lay the bill in the plate, I notice the writing across the top — “In God We Trust” — and I am totally incredulous. And I wonder why I never noticed this before. What an amazing reminder for Yanks every time they pull money from their wallets. In God we trust! But so many, like me, seem to forget this or ignore it. Or perhaps they’re not using cash but trusting in their Visa cards to carry them through. And then look what happens.
Anyway, I’m sure I’m grinning ear to ear by the time the service ends.
“What’d you think?” Jessie asks as we head to her car.
“Your church is awesome!”
“Cool. I hope you’ll keep coming back.”
“Me too. At least for the rest of the summer. I’m not really sure where we’ll be after that.”
“But I thought you were going to be here until December.”
“We’ll be in the country and probably in the LA area. But I don’t know exactly where we’ll live once my parents get back. You can be pretty sure it won’t be in Orange County. A bit expensive for a missionary budget.”
“That’s too bad. I like having you around.”
“Well, hopefully we can still get together sometimes.” Even as I say this, I suspect it’s unlikely because I won’t have my own wheels after I leave Vanessa’s family. Even so, I don’t care. I would rather be poor with my own parents than have it all with Vanessa’s. Not that I don’t love Uncle Ron and Aunt Lori or that I don’t totally appreciate their kindness and generosity, but their lifestyle’s just a bit rich for my blood. I reckon living in the smallest village hut with my parents and being at peace would be good enough for me.
“You wanna surf today?” asks Jessie.
“I was hoping you’d ask.”
twenty-one
IT’S THE END OF AUGUST NOW. MY DEBTS ARE COMPLETELY PAID OFF, MY Macy’s account is closed, and I have a bit of savings put aside. The girls at work had a little going-away party for me on my last day. And despite being tired of the whole office thing, I was sad to say good-bye.
“Want to go to Macy’s for old time’s sake?” asks Laticia. “There’s a big sale today.”
I laugh and say, “No thanks.” By now I’ve confessed to them how I got in over my head in debt and how it’s only by God’s grace that I didn’t go totally bonkers before I climbed out of the hole. And I think they understood.
My parents are back and staying at Uncle Ron’s until they can find a place to rent for a few months. It’s Saturday afternoon and we’re all hanging out by the pool, which my parents have put to as much good use as I’ve managed to do. The funny thing is that Uncle Ron and Aunt Lori have been swimming in it lately too. And I think they’re actually enjoying it. Not only that, but my dad and uncle even played golf today. I reckon Uncle Ron might be trying to reform his workaholic ways. Or maybe he’s just taking an obligatory vacation. In any case, I hope he enjoys himself enough to break away more often.
“Someone from the main office has an apartment they’re willing to sublet until the New Year,” my dad’s telling Aunt Lori. She’s just inquired about how far away we’d be once we settle in for the duration of our furlough. I actually think she might miss us once we move on. She’s spent the entire week with Mum and even postponed her hair appointment until after we leave. “It’s north of LA. Not the best neighborhood, but the rent is affordable.” Dad winks at me now. “Or we could just camp out in the Taurus. I’m sure Hannah wouldn’t mind a bit.”
“Not if you camped near a good surfing location,” I toss back at him from where I’m toweling dry on the deck. “We could all become beach bums and I could surf the time away. I’m pretty sure Jessie would loan me her board again.”
“Speaking of Jessie,” says Vanessa suddenly, “she called here while you and your mom were out this afternoon. She’d been trying to reach you on your cell, but I told her you had it cancelled because you thought it was an unnecessary expense. It sounded pretty urgent though, and I promised her I’d have you call her right back.”
So I excuse myself and go inside to use the phone. I feel concerned as I dial the number. I hope nothing is wrong.
“Vanessa said to ring you,” I say quickly when she answers. “She said it was urgent.”
“Oh, good!” she exclaims. “Have your parents signed any leases yet?”
“Huh?”
“You know, for where you’re going to live. Have they done anything — ”
“I don’t think so. But Dad’s got a place he’s going to look at tomorrow. Some apartment north of LA.”
“Well, how about this idea? You see, I was talking to my dad yesterday. By the way, he thinks you’re a very nice girl.”
“Uh, thanks.” I’m not exactly sure what that means. But I did have an interesting conversation with Mr. VanHorn one afternoon when he popped into the beach house a week or so ago. He caught me cleaning up in the kitchen and naturally assumed I was the housekeeper, but then I explained, and we chatted a bit until Jessie came down from her shower.
“Anyway, I told my dad how your parents are missionaries and how you’re looking for a place to live and he said, ‘Why don’t you invite them to stay at the beach house until January?’”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I was a little surprised myself. But then, Dad and Carrie will be in Maui for about six weeks this fall — our grandmother’s coming to stay with us. And I suspect he thinks if the beach house is occupied by respectable, clean-living, missionary-type folks, it will not only keep Felicia from having any more wild parties, but it might prevent break-ins as well. That happens a lot when beach houses are left vacant for too long. You know Daddy, always thinking of ways to help others.” She laughs and I know she’s making a joke.
“That’s very generous of him, Jessie.”
“Yeah, it is, isn’t it?”
“But do you really think he’s serious? I mean, we can’t afford — ”
“No, he doesn’t want any rent. Just responsible house sitters, you know. Of course, he wants to meet your parents first. But do you think they’d be interested?”
“Are you kidding?” Then she tells me his number and I promise to have my dad give him a call.
I can hardly believe it when I hang up the phone. And my parents can hardly believe it when I tell them. But then my dad just smiles and says, “See, it’s like I’m always saying, the good Lord provides. You just have to trust him.”
Now, I might not have agreed with him a few months ago, but today I think Dad is right. God does provide, and you do have to trust. As soon as you start running ahead and grabbing stuff up for yourself, you’re sure to end up in a mess. And while I know I’m not immune to messes, I reckon I can avoid a few bungles by following God’s lead.
All in all, I think this summer has been a relatively cheap lesson for me. Oh, I’ll admit it felt pretty costly when I was in the thick of it. But about a week ago, I overheard Uncle Ron telling Aunt Lori and Vanessa exactly how much money they’d spent in the last six months — apparently he tallied it all up. I really didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I was just getting a soft drink from the fridge while he was giving them what for in his office. And he shouted out the amount in a voice loud enough that I’m sure the neighbors heard too. And the total was truly staggering. In fact, it was even more money than it takes to support my parents in their missions work for an entire year. And all I could think was, What a waste. What a sad and pitiful waste.
Of course, I will never broadcast those details to anyone. But I will be praying for their family. All in all, I have great hope. And I’d rather put my trust in God than in money any day of the week.
reader’s guide
1. Before coming to the States, Hannah was never too concerned with money or material things. What caused her values to change?
2. Why do you think Vanessa had such a need to buy only the “best” and most expensive clothes?
3. Aunt Lori and Vanessa had no concern about using credit for their purchases. What do you think about buying things with credit cards?
4. Why do you think Hannah left her Bible behind when she came to the States?
5. What do you think causes a person to become a “shopaholic”?
6. How do you think America’s values in regard to money and materialism compare to other countries’ values? Explain.
7. What did you think of Wyatt? What was important to him in life? Why? Do you support his motivation?
8. Hannah felt trapped by her debt. How do you feel when you owe someone something? How would you feel if you owed more than you could pay?
9. Jessie seemed pretty well-grounded for a “rich” girl. Why do you think that was?
10. Hannah was surprised to read “In God We Trust” on the United States’ money. How do you feel when you see those words?
TrueColors Book 7:
Blade Silver
Coming in October 2005
All I’m looking for is a little harmless relief from the pain.
One
SOMETIMES I FEEL LIKE I’M ABOUT TO EXPLODE. OR MAYBE I WILL implode. I’m not really sure, but I think it’s going to get messy. And I think someone’s going to get hurt. Probably me.
I turn my CD player up a couple of notches. Not loud enough to attract his attention — I don’t want that — but loud enough to drown out his voice as he rages at my fourteen-year-old brother. I’d like t
o stand up for Caleb. I even try to imagine myself going out there and bravely speaking out in my younger brother’s defense. But the problem is, I’m just a big chicken.
Besides that, I know what will happen if I try to tell Dad that it’s not Caleb’s fault, if I try to explain that Mom forgot to give us lunch money again today and that Caleb was just trying to get by. But I can tell by the volume of Dad’s voice that it’s already too late to reason with him. And while I can’t discern his exact words over the sound of Avril Lavigne’s lyrics, I can feel them cutting and slicing through Caleb — and me.
I imagine my younger brother shredded and bleeding out there. A big red puddle spilled out across the pale yellow vinyl in our kitchen.
My dad never hits us with his fists. He never slaps us around or takes off his belt. He would be too concerned about leaving welts or bruises, something that someone might notice. But his words are worse than a beating. And they leave invisible scars — scars that never seem to fade.
Finally it gets quiet out there. I hear Caleb’s bedroom door, across the hall from mine, closing quietly. He knows not to slam it. That would only prolong the agony. And after a bit, I hear the door to the garage bang shut and then the sound of my dad’s Ford diesel truck roaring down the driveway and onto the road.
It’s safe to go out now, but I still feel guilty for not defending Caleb. I creep out and stand in the hallway, hovering like a criminal in front of his door, my hand poised to knock softly, ready to go in and tell him I understand how he feels and that I’m sorry. But I can hear him crying now. And I can hear him punching something. It sounds like his pillow or maybe his mattress — pow pow pow, again and again — and I know that if I try to say something to him while he’s like this, I’ll only make things worse.
The last time I tried to comfort him, he got seriously angry at me. He told me that I don’t understand anything. He said that Dad might come down on me sometimes, but it’s never as bad as with him. “You’re Dad’s favorite,” he finally spat, slamming his door right in my face. So I know better than to say anything when he’s feeling this mad. But it worries me. What if he becomes like Dad? What if the day comes when I can’t even talk to him?