Pewter Angels (25 page)

I
t had been thirty-eight days
since Jenny had left and things were going pretty well at school. He enjoyed school and was even beginning to tolerate Eddy. In spite of Eddy’s cocky attitude, he did have a knack for math. The math teacher moved Eddy to the front of the class, thinking Eddy couldn’t see above the other students. Eddy protested and said that he didn’t need to see because he understood the subject quite well. When he was moved up front, he put his head down or stared out the window, looking bored most of the time. But whenever the teacher asked him a direct question, he would raise his head and spout out the correct answer, much to Mr. Harder’s chagrin. At times he even corrected the teacher.

But at their lockers, the cold war continued. They no longer bumped into each other but each knew the past wasn’t forgotten. It was like they were treading water near the edge of a waterfall, waiting for the plummet.

Some kind of confrontation was inevitable.

Studying for exams, working for Mr. Engelmann and writing Jenny kept Henry totally occupied. He considered himself blessed to have so much on his plate; it distracted him from the reality of no letter from Jenny. His heartfelt words poured out into letter after letter to gather on his desk with no place to go. It was painful and frustrating.

As Henry wrote the thirty-eighth letter, he couldn’t help but notice how much longer they had become. He went to the bottom of the pile of letters neatly stacked at the end of his desk and pulled out the first one. He reopened the envelope with his jackknife, pulled out the sheet of paper, and read it to himself. It was only two lines, but it expressed his loss and the pain in his heart over her sudden departure. It was even sealed with a tear-stain that had caused the ink to run. The letter he had just finished, although it expressed his loss also, was more elegant and expressive. He read it again.

Dear Jenny,

I wrote an English exam today. I think I did okay. Tomorrow, I write a math midterm. I didn’t study for it—it’s pretty easy. I’m glad because I have a lot of trouble concentrating on anything with you constantly in my mind. I think about you day and night and so want to kiss and hold you in my arms.

By now you must be fitting into your new high school. Are you writing exams too? What’s your favourite subject? I’m sure it’s English. I know how much you love books and like to read and write. How are you finding the students there? You would make new friends easily, I think. You’re so easy to be with and so easy to love. I miss you so much, Jenny.

Two weeks ago I asked several questions in my letter to you that weighed heavily on my heart. With each passing day these unanswered questions are becoming unbearable. Oh, Jenny, why don’t you write? Have you found someone new? Are you just too busy? Jenny, please let me know. I almost can’t stand it.

In my last three letters I told you how much we improved Mr. Engelmann’s store. But now is it ever starting to get busy! I just love working there and the challenge of making it better. The only thing missing in my life is you. Oh, Jenny, I love you so much. Please write to me soon.

He thought about the last note she’d written him and their song.

Ours is a love forever true, watched over by our guardian angels.

Henry

He folded the letter and slipped it into an envelope, adding it to the pile.

The next day
when there was a rare moment without any customers, Henry pulled Mr. Engelmann aside. “Is there any way you know of that I can get Jenny’s address?”

Mr. Engelmann folded his arms and raised his eyebrows.

“It is strange and not like Jenny not to write you, Henry. And it would concern me very much, too, if Anna had not written to me when we were separated at times. I’ll think about it, Henry.”

What Henry didn’t know was that Mr. Engelmann had been trying to track down Jenny’s parents and had contacted the real estate agency that had sold their house, hoping to get a forwarding address. The real estate company was reluctant to give out any personal information, but had offered Mr. Sarsky’s new business address and his work phone number.

Although Mr. Engelmann had the means of contacting Jenny’s father, he was reluctant to interfere at this point, thinking it best to wait and see what happened.

Another whole month
elapsed. It was the middle of November and the cold weather began to freeze out the warmth of the late fall. Along with the advent of the winter came increased requests for deliveries. Henry and Mr. Engelmann hadn’t anticipated the large number of orders and the increased demands on their time. Mr. Engelmann even had to make a few of the deliveries himself.

It had been sixty days since Jenny had left. It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep writing; Henry was running out of things to say and had nothing to respond to. Even though he’d stopped writing every night, he still had at least forty five letters, some on top of his desk and others inside his top drawer.

It was as if Jenny had vanished from the face of the earth.

Henry’s parents suggested he stop writing and date a few other girls. He was only fifteen, with his whole life ahead of him, his mother said. And if it was meant for him and Jenny to reunite, then time and destiny would do their work.

Although the logic sounded reasonable, Henry found it difficult to accept. There was undoubtedly some reasonable explanation for Jenny’s continued silence. Maybe Jenny’s letters had gone to some other address or gotten lost. But was that even likely? Maybe one or two, but all of them? Maybe she thought
he
hadn’t responded? He needed closure. For better or worse, he had to know what had happened.

Mr. Engelmann understood
that not knowing about Jenny was an open wound for Henry. It saddened him to see such a young man so lonely and heartbroken. As devastating as it might be if Jenny had found someone new, it would still be better to put Henry out of his misery.

Mr. Engelmann decided he could no longer remain uninvolved and dialed the long distance number he had received from the real estate agent.

“Mackurcher and Company. This is Elaine. How may I help you?”

“May I speak to Mr. Sarsky?”

“Whom may I say is calling?”

“David Engelmann.”

“And what is the nature of your call, Mr. Engelmann?”

“Pardon me?” Mr. Engelmann asked, a bit flustered.

“Sir? What is your call in regards to?”

“It’s … it’s personal.”

“I see,” said the secretary. “Please hold and I will see if Mr. Sarsky is able to take your call.” An eternity later, the secretary came back on the line, “I’m sorry, sir, Mr. Sarsky is busy. If you leave your number, I’ll have him get back to you.”

Mr. Engelmann gave the secretary the number for the store then hung up. He waited for Mr. Sarsky to return his call. Although the store owner was very busy with orders and customers, he anticipated Mr. Sarsky’s call anytime and tried to figure out a way he could talk in private. The telephone was just behind the till, attached to the back wall. He could turn his back on his customers, if any were in the store, but he was certain that they would overhear him. And he didn’t want word to get back to Henry or his parents that he was meddling in Henry’s personal life.

Mr. Engelmann was also concerned about what to say to Jenny’s father. He had pulled together a couple of ideas earlier, but with so many interruptions over the course of the afternoon, he had lost his train of thought. He decided to leave it up to the Lord to give him the right words at the right time.

The afternoon passed with no call from Ottawa. Henry would soon be in after school and that would really complicate the privacy issue. Mr. Engelmann didn’t want Henry to know he had even called Mr. Sarsky until he had an idea of what was going on. Once he knew, he could decide whether or not to tell the boy who had become like a son to him.

Henry entered the store right on schedule. Mr. Engelmann finished the order he was working on and handed it to Henry to deliver. When Henry left, Mr. Engelmann sighed with relief and waited for the phone to ring. Nothing. Henry returned twenty minutes later. As he entered the store, the phone jangled, startling Mr. Engelmann. His face flushed and his heart thundered in his chest.

The phone rang a couple of more times.

“Do you want me to get that, Mr. Engelmann?”

“No, no, Henry, I will get it,” he answered, trying to decide how to respond. “Hello, Engelmann Grocery and Confectionary.”

But it was only Mrs. Goronic calling in an order, which he gave to Henry to deliver on his way home. Mr. Engelmann felt Henry’s gaze on him as he drew up an invoice for the order. He swiped beads of perspiration from his brow, hoping Henry didn’t see them.

“Are you feeling okay?”

“Yes, yes, I’m fine. Maybe a little on the warm side. I was very busy today. Could you please go to the storage room and get supplies to stock up the shelves?”

“Sure.” Henry checked the shelves to see what was needed, then went back to the storage area to get the products.

As soon as Henry went out back, Mr. Engelmann took the telephone receiver off the hook. He felt so tense he simply couldn’t stand the uncertainty of whether or not Mr. Sarsky would call. He might lose orders by having the phone off the hook but decided he would be more comfortable losing an order or two than having Mr. Sarsky call when Henry was in the store.

Shortly after five the store was empty of customers and Mr.

Engelmann told Henry he could leave early. After Henry left, he put the phone back on the hook, but it was now close to five-thirty; seven-thirty in Ottawa. David was sure Mr. Sarsky would be home by now and wouldn’t call that evening. He walked to the back of the store to turn out the lights. He wanted to talk over the problem with Anna—it was becoming too burdensome to carry alone.

The cool fresh air felt good as Henry walked home. Normally the breeze cleared his mind, but not today. His preoccupation with Jenny had begun to take a toll. Weariness of heart and mental fatigue plagued him, sapping his interest in schoolwork. Henry knew his parents were concerned, as was Mr. Engelmann, and he knew they wanted to help but were unsure how.

In his despondency,
Henry took his frustration out in gym … on Eddy. He ran into Eddy, throwing him hard to the floor.

Henry knew he had hurt the other boy, but instead of showing pain, Eddy only smirked. “The boys’ll get you just like they got that blond chick of yours at the park. Bet they laid her before you did.”

Henry’s anger towards Eddy, which had been simmering like hot lava in a dormant volcano, erupted into an uncontrollable rage. He lunged at Eddy, grabbing him by the throat.

“Did they touch her?” Henry seethed through clenched teeth.

Eddy’s smirk never wavered. He was obviously enjoying the moment despite his impending doom.

“Tell me!” Henry shook the little punk from side to side.

For the first time, Henry thought he saw a flicker of compassion in Eddy Ziegler’s eyes.

“Hey man, just kidding, all right!
Geez
! They were just boasting. You know how guys are. A few beers and they think women are their slaves.”

Henry looked long and hard into Eddy’s eyes, searching for the truth. There hadn’t been enough time for Eddy’s friends to do anything to Jenny, had there? Henry shuddered at the thought and immediately tried to dismiss it. No! Surely Jenny would have known if she had been … hurt. He couldn’t even think the word
rape.

“Look, man, didn’t you say you were right behind them that night?”

Henry wanted to agree with Eddy. Then again, Jenny had been kind of out of it when he’d found her. Henry shook his head, once again trying to dispel the thought. He gave Eddy’s T-shirt a sharp tug. “Don’t you ever speak this kind of bull ever again.”

The other boys in gym class had gathered around, anticipating a fight.

Then, “What’s going on over there?” Mr. Neader asked.

Henry got up. “Oh, nothing.”

“I expect more from you, Henry. I don’t want to see this kind of behaviour again.”

Henry just nodded and walked away.

Eddy got up and straightened his T-shirt. Pete and John had told him that Pete had made it with the chick, but John didn’t have time to before Henry got there.

Then again, maybe the whole story was all a lot of bull.

Just as Henry was leaving
the gym, Mr. Neader called him, into his office.

Oh, geez, now I’m in for it. That Zeigler’s getting me in more trouble.

When Henry arrived at the Phys. Ed. office, the door was open and Mr. Neader was already sitting behind his desk piled high with paper and books, waiting for him.

“Sit down Henry.” After a moment he went on, “I’ve been watching you and Eddy. I’m a bit surprised this altercation hasn’t happened sooner. You’ve got it in for him for some reason … and that’s none of my business. But trying to get students to get along and avoid that kind of behaviour is.”