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Friday, February 22, 2019

At Light's Edge - Chapter 27: Monday's Child


Twenty-Seven
____________
Monday's Child


The weekend came and went faster than a long awaited birthday party for an eight year old. Jenny spent Sunday reading both the books of Lamentations and Ecclesiastes; she also looked through the Proverbs of Solomon, Thirty-one chapters means I could read one chapter of Proverbs a day for most months.
Jenny remained plagued by her dreams during what little time she actually had slept Saturday night, but she slept straight through Sunday’s night until a waking knock at her bedroom door announced the dawn of Monday. Maybe I need an alarm clock for the first time in my life, Jenny’s happy thoughts comforted her.
Once Jenny arrived at school she entered and walked down its crowded locker-lined corridor. Some tough looking girl asked her snootily, 
“What’s it like turnin’ tricks for drugs?” but Jenny ignored her, a principle of action she obtained from her life on the streets.
Jenny enthusiastically enjoyed her art class, learning some basics of conceptual and compositional pencil sketches, painting live models, time allotment for live model painting during block-in sessions and follow-up sessions, stretching a canvas and techniques used by various artists for charcoal drawings.
So much to learn, but this I like, Jenny relished in her thoughts. I could stay busy… I mean active doing artwork like this.
Other classes proved to be challenging and at the same time enjoyable to Jenny. For some reason Jenny could figure out verbal mathematic questioned presented by her math teacher much faster than the other students in her class. I bet this will make me even more popular, Jenny sarcastically thought.
One girl, a bit shy it appeared to Jenny based upon observing her mannerisms, sat alone during the lunch break, so Jenny approached her and asked if she could join her.
“Might as well,” the girl replied. “I got nothin’ to lose.”
The cafeteria food was the most boring thing Jenny encountered that day. Mashed potatoes, mushy green beans and a piece of some sort of meat adorned the plate alongside a chocolate chip cookie.
“Great food,” Jenny commented.
“Better than I used to get,” the girl replied.
“I’m Jenny,” her introduction felt as awkward as it sounded.
“I know.”
“I just started this school today,” Jenny continued.
“I know.”
Not knowing exactly where this conversation was going to end up, Jenny asked, “How about you, how long have you been here?”
“Not long.”
“You like it here?”
“Yeah, it’s ok.” The two word responses suddenly turned into a three word response.
“Let’s go for four,” Jenny joked.
“What?”
“Oh, nothing,” Jenny felt a bit embarrassed about her comment.
“I saw that girl this morning,” more words flowed from the girl’s mouth, “the one that made the sarcastic comment to you.”
Glad that the conversation was flowing, Jenny took another bite of beans then said, “Yeah, what’s her story anyway? You know anything?”
“Word says she lives in a foster home now and that she never knew her dad…” the girl took a bite of her meat and paused to chew it before continuing, “and her mom was some kind of druggie and prostitute… supposedly OD’d and died a year or so ago. That’s all I heard, anyway.”
Jenny felt she understood why the girl that morning may have made the comment she did to her.
“You know if you are rich druggie or a celebrity druggie you’re viewed as someone needing help and assistance in rehab, without any long jail or prison sentence, but…” the girl took a bite of her mashed potatoes, “if you ain’t rich or a celebrity you’re just a lowlife junkie.”
“You got that right.”
“Mildred, my name’s Mildred, but people just call me Millie.”
“Nice to meet you, Millie.”
“Likewise.”
Once the bell rang sounding the end of lunch the two girls returned to complete their day of school.
Jenny’s final class was a course in creative writing. She liked this class also, almost as much as she enjoyed her art class.
When the final bell rang, Jenny scurried home to tell someone, anyone, about her day. To her surprise, only Mangas Coloradas was present and washing dishes by hand in the kitchen sink.
“Where is everybody?”
“Hello, Jenny,” Mangas responded. “Everybody?”
Jenny thought for a moment and realized that the only other youth in the home was Amir.
“Sharon McKenzie will be here soon. She went to pick up Amir.”
“How come Amir doesn’t go to the same school I do?” inquired Jenny, grabbing a cloth to dry dishes with.
“Thanks for helping. Amir is in a regular public school taking only the basic courses he needs to graduate. The rest of the time he’s tied up with the community service work he must do to complete his sentence.”
“Ok.”
Mangas handed Jenny another plate to dry, “And when we have so few youth residents in FHG we cut back on staff a little from time to time.”
“Makes sense.”
“So,” Mr. Coloradas pulled the drain plug signaling the end of wash time, “how was your first day at school?”
As the two made their way to the living room, Jenny explained about her various classes and relayed her excitement about her art and creative writing courses.
Once seated, Mr. Coloradas encouraged Jenny to practice drawing and writing all she could in her spare time as well, “Keep a sketch book and a writing journal near you at all times if possible. That way you’ll always be ready to draw or write the instant something pops into your mind. Otherwise,” the counselor leaned back in his chair and stretched, “you might forget and lose an idea you had.”
“Great idea, I’ll do that!”

Amir and Counselor McKenzie returned home about an hour later and the four worked together in the kitchen creating a restaurant worthy dinner. Amir had to catch up on his schoolwork after dinner, so Jenny went to her room to read, or, as she happily thought, write… or draw, or… whatever.
The hours passed in silence. Jenny found that she could not sleep again and spent half of the night sitting and staring into the darkness of her room. When she finally decided to lie down, she fell asleep abruptly and dreamed…

“Hey, you… girl,” a dark looming hooded figure in a side street alley hailed Jenny. “Come here!”
Jenny felt herself floating toward the individual in the alley. The person looked like the Grim Reaper, wearing a long black coat with a hood. 
At the closest end of the alley a dark cloudy mist floated ominously. Jenny had the feeling that it was some type of being. At the far end Jenny saw herself. At least she thought it was herself. It was as if she was watching herself watch herself, jumping back and forth between mystical bodies somehow.
Stretching out his hand, Jenny knew this being was male for some reason, the man said, “Check this stuff out, babe.”
Looking down into the long-fingered palm of the man, Jenny saw a pink substance that smelled like gum.
“It’s the best in town, little lady… the best.”
Jenny stared at the substance that was clearly some type of drug. Temptation rose within her and attempted to overpower her. She could almost taste the substance’s sweet flavor throughout her body.
Jenny looked away quickly, observing herself from another view at the end of the alley. She saw herself looking into the man’s hand as the smell of the substance permeated the air. ‘Gum’ she thought.
“I know you want it, c’mon, babe.”
Jenny calmly said to the person, “I don’t like gum, it’s so juvenile.”
As the black clothed individual and the dark mist from the close end of the alley faded away, Jenny attempted to turn to see herself at the far end of the alley, but instead found herself in a large grassy park watching children playing happily.

The loud knock at the bedroom door awoke Jenny with a startle. Guess I do need an alarm clock after all.
Jenny wrote a quick entry in her diary before going downstairs for breakfast, ‘Weird dream last night. Today is a new day and one with a new future!’

Next Chapter: Fly-Tipping

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