SARAH

 

I awoke the next morning feeling as forlorn as I had when I’d finally fallen asleep only a few hours before. I lay in Kay’s bed gazing up at the ceiling. Kay was still at the hospital with Roxy, and Troy was in my bed. The sights of the previous night attacked my mind like a pack of rabid dogs. There was the blue-eyed man with the handsome face taunting me, his mouth twisted into a smug scowl. His expression produced such terrible anger in me and I screwed my duvet up in my hands at the thought of his contemptuous and mocking face.

But then there were his eyes.

They contrasted so heavily with his expression. They were soft and appeared sorrowful, as though he knew what he was saying was wrong and that inside something better existed. I held his eyes in my mind and my hands slowly released the duvet from their grasp, my anger softening at the thought of such hope existing in his sunken soul. It was this hope that lessened my misery and gave me new strength, which I thanked God for. Inwardly, I felt that I must find this man. I must find him and bring him into the light. I wondered what extra importance he had over the billions on Earth in need of being drawn to the light.

I shook off my thoughts and decided to check on Troy before getting ready for the food bank. When I went to my room, though, I found an empty bed. Going along the landing to the top of the stairs, I made out the voices of Lucy, Dad and Troy in the kitchen below. Descending the stairs and stepping into the room, I found them all making pancakes, Troy standing between Lucy and Dad, helping out.

“Hey,” I said from the doorway.

My father immediately dropped his spatula and came over to me, taking me in his arms.

“Your sister called and told me about last night,” he said softly into my ear. “If you want, you can stay back here while we go to the food bank.”

“No no,” I insisted. “God’s work was never supposed to be easy.”

“Amen to that,” my father said as he gave me another squeeze, kissing me on the cheek.

He let go and guided me over to the cooker, my sister and Troy both smiling at me, saying good morning.

“Sarah,” Troy said after we’d greeted, “we’re making pancakes.”

“I see,” I replied. “Are you gonna make enough for me?”

“For everyone,” he answered with a joyful little smile, before turning back to the stove, Lucy handing him the spatula so he could press it down on the pancakes, the boy excited by the sizzling sound it made.

Meanwhile, I sat down at the table and my father made me a coffee. As he handed it to me, I thanked him and he sat down opposite.

“Did Troy call his mom last night?” I asked.

“Yeah, I spoke with her too. I was thinking of taking him out to see her today. Last night he said he was missing her.”

“Did he sleep well?”

“Like a log.”

“What about his inhaler?”

“He needed it a couple of times, but not much.”

“Has he taken his medication this morning?”

“Yes, Lucy gave it to him herself, following the guidelines to the letter.”

“That’s good,” I exclaimed softly, feeling myself relax a little.

It wasn’t long before we were all seated around the table eating pancakes with chocolate chips, blueberries, strawberries, and a host of other delights. I managed only half a pancake before my stomach ached shut and I realized that I was still tense from last night. While I sat there in a quiet mood, I watched the others chat and play. I enjoyed most of all watching Troy smiling and getting excited. He appeared to have struck up a bond with my father and sister, and it was a welcome distraction to watch their merriment.

When we finished, Lucy got Troy dressed while I showered and changed, and, once I was, we left the house and got in my Prius. I drove us the short distance into the city to the food bank. Arriving there, we drove past the long queue that was already waiting for the doors to open, a throng of people stretching for two hundred meters along the street. I parked up and, once we were inside the building, we helped get the place ready, sorting through all the newly donated food and placing it on the racking.

Half an hour later, the doors opened and we invited ten people in at a time, walking around with them and filling up their grocery bags. Some of them were in the most miserable states, relying on the food bank to survive: whole families, the elderly, war veterans, the homeless and many others in dire need.

It was toward the end that I saw Holly and her two boys come inside. She immediately smiled at me and I went over to her.

“Hey, doll,” she said as I approached. Then addressing her sons, she added, “Say hello to Sarah.”

“Hello, Sarah,” they said in unison.

I returned their greetings and Holly handed them her bags, sending them off to fetch the shopping.

“How are you?” she inquired.

“I’m good,” I answered in a fatigued voice.

“You look tired.”

“I am. I didn’t get in until real late.”

“Oh!” she exclaimed, her eyes widening. “You been out busy with some fella, huh?”

“No,” I replied, blushing a little. “Nothing like that. It was just a thing I had to attend to which took a lot longer than I thought it would.”

I would have told her everything, but I was still too sensitive to it all and wished to keep our chat as cordial as possible.

“So you were out all night long,” she said slowly, narrowing her eyes at me, “but it weren’t no man.”

“No, it was completely innocent.”

“You look innocent! But a pretty girl like you must have some man somewhere? Locked up at home maybe?”

I giggled in embarrassment and shook my head, all the color going to my lily-white cheeks.

“No, man!” she exclaimed. Then narrowing her eyes further, she added sharply, “You ever had a man?”

“Kinda,” I managed to squeeze out.

“What does ‘kinda’ mean?”

“I dated three guys.”

“How long for?”

“Three months was the most. The other two were during high school.”

“And have you”—and here she glanced around and lowered her voice—“ever been been with a man?”

I almost choked and could only shake my head to this question.

“How old are you?” she went on.

“Twenty-five,” I spluttered.

“My word! A beautiful girl like you never been with a man at twenty-five!? I bet there’s plenty of men that would swallow you up given the slightest chance!”

I couldn’t help laughing along with her. But then she stopped and put another sudden question to me:

“You saving yourself?”

“Yes,” I answered, my face now completely red.

At this Holly grinned all over.

“You really are somethin’ else,” she said after a while. “You spend your life helping folks and no thought of yourself. Most girls your age spend their spare time chasing around with men, but here you are helping feed the poor.”

And her smile increased in size as she looked at me sweetly.

“I guess that’s part of it,” was all I could think of saying.

“It’s a real comfort to know that people like you still exist in this world.”

We chatted some more while her boys collected the groceries and it was then that I learned she’d spent almost three hours on two buses getting there. The drive was only thirty minutes to where she lived, so I offered to take them. And of course you know what happened after that.