Gideon's Gift (9 page)

When sunup came, Earl wore the red gloves as he made his way a block south to an old gas station. There, for two dollars,
a man could shower, shave, and run a clean comb through his hair. Earl scrounged up the money from his knapsack and did all
three.

Then he headed for the mission.

D. J. was in his office looking at his computer when Earl knocked on the door.

“Yes.” The mission director looked up, his expression blank.

Earl resisted a smile. “You don’t recognize me?”

The man narrowed his piercing blue eyes. “Earl?” His eyebrows lifted so far they looked like part of his hairline. He stood,
came around his desk, and shook Earl’s hand. The man’s smile was as much a part of his face as his eyes and nose. “I can’t
believe it! You look twenty years younger. I guess I’ve never seen you without a beard. It’s a nice change.”

“It’s not the only one.”

D. J. leaned against his desk. “Really?”

“Yes.” Earl’s heart ricocheted off the insides of his chest like a pool ball. “God found me last night, D. J. He found me
good.”

He saw a dozen questions flash in D. J.’s eyes. “It wasn’t a church service or anything like that.” He paused. The shame of
how he’d treated the child was still painfully fresh. “It was the kid. That little girl.”

“Girl?”

Earl dropped his gaze to the floor. What was her name? Why couldn’t he remember it? He couldn’t afford to sound delusional,
not now. “You know, the girl. Brown hair, deep eyes. Wooly hat. She was here with her family at the Christmas dinner. Gave
me a gift.”

“Oh.” A knowing look filled the man’s face. “You mean Gideon.”

“Gideon. Yes, that’s it.” Earl swallowed hard. “I need to thank her. Today. Before another hour goes by.”

D. J.’s eyes bunched up and he took a step backwards. “Earl, I don’t think—”

Earl waved his hand and cut him off. “I know there’s privacy rules, but I don’t need her last name or phone number. You can
make the call.” Earl’s fingers began to shake. “You don’t understand.” He licked his lips and grabbed two quick breaths. “I
was terrible to her, rude and mean and… and just awful.”

The muscles in D. J.’s jaw flexed. For the first time since Earl had met him, the man wasn’t smiling. “You want to apologize
to her? Is that it?”

“Yes. Her and her parents. And I want to thank Gideon.” Earl’s heartbeat sped up. “You have no idea…” His voice drifted. “That
little girl changed my life.”

“Oh, I have an idea.” This time D. J.’s smile barely lifted the corners of his mouth. “I’ve known Gideon for a long time.
She’s a special little girl.”

Earl’s stomach hurt with the thought of the child going another minute without knowing how sorry he was—how much he appreciated
her gift. “Call her, then, will you? So I can tell her what I need to say. Apologize to her and her parents. Make things right.
Please?”

D. J. opened his mouth but no words came out. From somewhere deep within him came a sigh that seemed to last a minute. It
was the kind of sigh one might expect from a man who’d spent his life working with street people, a man who probably had very
little in the way of worldly success.

But not D. J.

In years of taking meals at the mission, Earl had never heard the man sigh.

He knew what was coming. D. J. would politely send him on his way and he’d never see the girl again. Never apologize to her
or tell her parents how wrong he’d been. That couldn’t happen. He couldn’t bear it! “Please. I need to talk to her.”

“You can’t.” D. J. locked eyes with Earl. “Gideon’s sick. She’s in the hospital.” His gaze fell and with it, Earl’s heart.
“They don’t know if she can be home for Christmas.”

The child was sick? Hadn’t she been healthy a week ago at the mission dinner? “You mean like the flu or something?”

“No.” D. J. looked up. His face was pale. “She has cancer, Earl. Leukemia.”

“What?” Earl grabbed the door frame to keep from falling. “Since when?”

“She was in remission a week ago.” He bit his lip. “But she’s worse now. A lot worse.”

A pit the size of a bowling ball filled Earl’s gut. His head was spinning and he shuffled across D. J.’s office to the nearest
chair. “I did this.” His words were barely more than a mumble. “It’s all my fault.”

“No, Earl.” D. J. took a few steps closer and put his hand on Earl’s shoulder. “Gideon’s been sick for a long time. The doctors
knew her cancer would come back eventually. They just hoped it wouldn’t be this soon.”

Earl squeezed his forehead between his thumb and forefinger. Now the poor child was lying in a hospital bed, knowing that
one of her last acts of kindness had been rejected. Since last night, he’d wanted to pick up the phone and tell her how sorry
he was, how thankful. But it was too late. He could hardly call her at the hospital if she was that sick.

“It’s not your fault, Earl.” D. J. cleared his throat. “These things happen.”

Earl felt a hundred years old as he struggled to his feet. He locked eyes with D. J. “Is there anything I can do?”

“We can pray.” D. J.’s eyes grew watery. “She needs a bone marrow transplant but her family can’t afford it. Without that,
her chances… well, they aren’t good.”

The seedling of an idea sprouted in Earl’s mind. “How expensive is it?”

“The transplant?”

“Yes.” Earl’s heartbeat doubled. “How much does it cost?”

“Tens of thousands of dollars, Earl. More than you and I will ever have.”

“Actually…” Earl considered his words carefully. He didn’t want to sound like a lunatic. “I have some money put away.”

“What?” D. J. uttered a curious chuckle and studied Earl. “How much do you have?”

Earl didn’t blink. “How much does she need?”

The mission director stared at Earl for a long time. “Maybe it’s time you told me your story.”

“Maybe it is.” Earl settled back in the chair and looked hard at D. J. “I wasn’t always like this.”

“Most street people aren’t.” D. J. cast him a kind smile. “Something happens: a death, an addiction, a lost job, a bout of
depression. You’d be surprised at the stories behind some of the regulars at the mission.”

Earl was quiet. “I guess I never thought about it. They’re just like me.”

“That’s normal. It’s hard to see past the dirty clothes and haggard faces, hard to imagine anything other than the vacant
eyes and familiar stench. But bottom line is this: Everyone has a story.”

Dirty clothes and familiar stench?
Earl let the words play again in his mind. What would Anne and Molly think about the way he’d let himself become? Shame wrapped
its arms around him and squeezed until he could barely breathe.
Help me, God. Let me see beyond this meaningless life I’ve created.

“Okay.” The mission director motioned to him. “So tell me yours.”

Tears welled up in Earl’s eyes as for the first time in five years he allowed himself to go back to that December five years
ago—allowed himself to remember the events that had led him to a life on the streets. As they had in the alleyway the night
before, layers began falling from Earl’s heart until he knew exactly where to start. Back at the beginning. In the days when
he’d first fallen in love.

When the images were clear, they formed words. And finally, after years of silence, Earl began to speak.

H
er name was Anne.” Earl’s vision grew cloudy as he drifted back in time. “We grew up across the street from each other. Down
south in Redding, California.”

D. J. crossed one leg over the other and listened.

“She was the prettiest kindergarten girl I’d ever seen, and even though I was two years older, I told my mother she was the
one. Some day I was going to marry her.”

The mission director chuckled softly as Earl’s story tumbled out.

At first his parents had smiled the way parents do when their children say something cute and innocent. They’d patted him
on the head. “Sure, son. Marry the girl across the street.” Right.

As the years passed, Earl never wavered in his plan. But there was one problem.

Anne didn’t know he was alive.

Outgoing and social, she was surrounded by friends and only waved at him occasionally when they passed in the street outside
their respective homes. But all that changed the summer Anne turned sixteen. That year, Earl’s first out of high school, she
and her friends took to tanning in the front yard. One afternoon, an hour after Earl got home from work, Anne knocked at his
door.

“Hi, Earl.” Her smile outshone the sun. “My friend wants to meet you. Why don’t you come over and hang out with us for a while?”

Earl had finished work at three that day. With his heart knocking about and his hands sweaty, he changed into shorts, jogged
across the street, and took his place with the girls. Long after her friends went home, Anne stayed and chatted with him.

“How come we never did this before?” She angled her face, her eyes dancing.

“Busy, maybe.” Earl could feel his face growing hot. Now that they were alone he was terrified she would see the truth. That
he’d been in love with her since before she could write her name.

She leaned back, and the breeze played in her hair. “Know what my friend said about you?”

“What?” Earl relaxed some.

“She said I’m lucky you live across the street.” Anne batted her eyelashes at him. “And that you’re the best-looking guy she’s
seen all year.”

“That’s good, I guess.” Earl shrugged. “Of course, does she get out much?”

Ripples of laughter spilled from Anne’s slender throat and she fell back against the grass. When she regained control she
locked eyes with him. “So… you dating anyone serious?”

“Nope. You?”

Anne shook her head, her expression achingly innocent. “I’m too young.”

“Yeah.”

She bit her lip. “I turned sixteen last month.”

Earl’s mind raced. Why was she telling him this? “Really?”

“Really.” She hesitated. “That means I can date. But only guys I trust. You know, guys I’ve hung out with before. Guys my
parents have met.”

The lining of Earl’s mouth felt like paper. He swallowed. “Right.” Again he had no idea where the conversation was headed.

“So…” Anne’s smile grew suddenly shy. “Maybe you and I can hang out this summer.”

“Yeah.” Earl’s heart exploded in fireworks, but he kept his tone level. “Maybe we could.”

T
he memory faded and Earl blinked at the mission director. “After that we were inseparable. Spent the summer swimming and fishing
at Lake Shasta. Every moment I wasn’t working, I was with Anne.”

“She sounds like a wonderful girl.”

Earl nodded. “She—She was.” Even now the past tense hurt—hurt as bad as the parts of the story yet ahead.

The pieces of yesterday came into focus once more, and Earl continued.

At the end of the summer, Earl and Anne took a walk through their neighborhood.

“I’ve been thinking.” He kicked at a smattering of loose gravel on the sidewalk.

“That’s good.” She elbowed him in the ribs and gave him an easy grin. “I wonder sometimes.”

He chuckled and slowed his pace. “Actually,” his eyes met hers, “I was thinking how we’ve hung out all summer.”

She stopped and faced him. Earl was certain she had never looked more beautiful. “We have, haven’t we?”

“Mm-hmm.” He smothered a lopsided grin. “And I’ve met your parents.”

“Several times.”

“So maybe the two of us ought to…”

Anne took a step closer. “I’m listening.”

Earl exhaled and it sounded like a weary laugh. “What I’m trying to say is, Anne, would you go out with me Saturday night?
Please?”

As long as he lived, Earl would never forget the way her eyes lit up. “You know what, Earl?”

“What?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Their first date was sheer magic. A picnic dinner along the shores of Lake Shasta and afterwards milk shakes at the A&W. They
got home early and sat in the porch swing at her house. Before Earl crossed the street and went back home they shared the
briefest kiss. With their faces still inches apart, Earl searched her eyes and brushed a lock of hair gently off her forehead.