Jerry
By:
Will B
(© 2009-2010 by the author)
The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's
consent. Comments are appreciated at...
Chet has been in London and met his old friend, Gerald Winterson. They have rekindled the flames of love that once crackled between them. As Chet plans his return to the Souchard, Gerald’s boss, His Grace of Canterbury, asks Gerald to go with Chet to learn about the safe house that was being run at the Souchard, and then Gerald asked to take some much needed, and fully deserved, leave time. What must Chet and Gerald have thought? They were reunited after many years, expecting that they would have to part again—and then to be told that they were to have more time with each other. I suspect they were more than just a little happy.
Chapter 31
It has been two weeks since Chet and Gerald returned from England (or the UK if you want to be correct!)
Night. Pitch black. Not a star in the sky! Complete soft, velvety inky blackness covered the Souchard and all its residents.
Ah! Just a glimmer of gray in the eastern sky. The gray slowly turned pink and then the palest yellow.
One or two pairs of eyes opened, then a few more. Several guys leaned back into the arms of their companions, comfortable in being spooned, and secure in the knowledge that they were loved, and they loved in return...
The yellow sky turned to orange. Then two pairs of eyes opened and stayed open. “Six o’clock; time to rise and shine” Sam said to Pete, who replied “Uuumpph! No, I don’t want to.”
“I know,” Sam said, “but I’ve got to get up and think about starting breakfast.”
The orange streak turned to red, and the tip, the merest tip of old Sol’s head appeared above the horizon.
Trace and Jerry were slowly waking up. They looked at each other and smiled and kissed each other lightly on the lips.
As the sun finally made its presence known, the Souchard and the Residence were filled with a rumble, one that was heard almost every morning, as dozens of pairs of feet hit the floor and began running, running rapidly, swiftly, as guys young and old (er, older) ran to take their morning leaks.
Some went back to bed for a few more minutes of shut-eye, or perhaps a few more moments of tenderness.
Eventually, most people were in the dining room, more or less awake, but becoming more awake as they smelled the aromas of Sam’s cooking. Sam, ably assisted by Adrian, Curt, and David, once more had provided nourishment for the bodies of several dozen men and boys.
Trace, Jerry, Chet, and Gerald were at one table, tucking into orange juice, waffles, turkey bacon, and coffee. Gerald and Chet had opted for Earl Grey Tea (of course!). Bruce and Chad came into the room.
“Hi, guys, join us,” said Trace. “How’s the story writing going?”
“Great!” said Bruce. We’ve published two already and we’re working on a third, and I must say that Will is an excellent reader. He’s found someone else to work with us on our third story.”
Chad turned to Chet and Gerald and asked, “How are things going with you two?”
Gerald replied, “You know the young guys in the Residence really seem to enjoy talking to us.”
Chet smiled, and said, “That’s because you ask them questions and then listen to their answers.”
Gerald said, “I read once that a gossip talks about others, and a bore only talks about himself. I don’t want to be either of those kinds of person.”
Just then Trace’s cell phone rang. Excusing himself, he walked over to one side of the room, and clicked the button to hear his caller.
“Hello….., hello, Sheriff Joe. How are you?..... What!.....What age?....How many?... of course…. When?.....About 12:00?....We’ll be ready. Bye.”
Clicking the phone shut, he went back to his table, but didn’t sit down. Instead, he clicked his spoon on the side of his juice glass, and said, “Listen, everybody … Will the kitchen staff please come in so you can all hear this? ... That was Sheriff Joe on the phone. He wanted to know if we could give temporary shelter to five young men who were among those brought to the United States as refugees from the terrible earthquake in Haiti!”
Chad said, “We still have some empty rooms in the Residence.”
Sam said, “We have plenty of food and we can always get more.”
Pete said, “I’ll make sure we have sheets and pillows.”
Gerald said hesitatingly, “Je parle français, un peur.”
Trace said “I was about to ask, ‘Can we do this, people?’ but you’ve already shown me that we can. Thank you.”
There was applause throughout the room.
At 12:15 the Sheriff’s van pulled up in front of the Souchard and out got Sheriff Joe, Rod McElroy (the social worker), and five young Haitian boys, looking scared, tired, and very ragged. They carried nothing with them—nothing!
“Trace and Jerry,” Sheriff Joe said, “these young boys were brought from Haiti just as they stand here, with absolutely nothing. Others who came with them have been placed, but there was nowhere we could place them on such short notice. All the shelters are full; the church-based shelters are crammed. I couldn’t think of what else to do with them.”
“There are some families who have expressed an interest in adopting these boys, but it will take a few days for them to get to San Francisco, and complete all the paper work,” Rod McElroy said.
The boys just stood there, silent, looking petrified. Gerald went over to them and hunkered down.
“Maintenant, mes amis. Je m’appelle Geraud. Dites-mois, s’il vous plaît, comment vous appelez-vous?”
“Je m’appelle Henri,” said the oldest boy who seemed to be about sixteen. “Ceci est mon frère, Christophe.”*
Gerald shook hands with both young boys. “Ceci est mon ami, Chet,” he said, indicating Chet who also shook hands.
The others introduced themselves as Guillaume, Louis, and Jerome.
By now everyone had come outside to greet the newcomers. It was Ricky who took the next step. He came forward and pointed to himself and said, I am Ricky.”
All five boys introduced themselves. Ricky mimed eating, and Gerald said, “Voulez-vous manger?”
“Oui! Oui! S’il vous plaît!” all the boys said.
Ricky smiled and said, “Okay,” and then he held his hand up and said, “But first, we…” He mimed washing his hands and under his arms. That brought more smiles, and Ricky said without thinking, to Trace, “Dad, I’m going to take these boys to the showers. Can we get some clean clothes for them?”
“I’m sure we can, Son. Thanks for thinking of the essentials.”
Ricky led the boys off to get cleaned up and while they were gone, all of the boys in the residence scrambled back to their rooms to see what they could find to give the poor guys something to wear.
Ricky stood by while the five boys took off their rags, and then he, stripping himself, led them to the shower and showed them how to operate the handles. He got in the shower with them to help them shampoo their hair, and in about thirty minutes, Henri, Guillaume, Christophe, Louis, and Jerome were ‘squeaky clean.’
Imagine their surprise when they came out of the shower room, and their filthy clothes were gone. In their places were clean underwear, shirts, shorts, and flip-flops. Fortunately, all of the boys were about the same size and so they were easily fitted out with clean clothes.
When they were dressed, Ricky led them to the dining room, where Sam and his staff had prepared a delicious lunch. The boys’ eyes grew wide, but as they sat down, before they touched a thing, they all bowed their heads to say ‘Merci’ to ‘le bon Dieu.’
Gerald said to Trace, “I wish that … that bag of wind who said that all the Haitians deserved the earthquake because they practiced voo-doo could see this.”
“Wouldn’t do any good if he did see it,” said Rod. “Bigots never learn. They see only what they want to see.”
After lunch, the Sheriff and Rod departed. “Chet said, “Trace, isn’t there some kind of van we could use to take Ricky and these five lads to town to get them some more clothes and shoes?”
“Sure, Chet, I’ll arrange it, and I’ll give you a check…”
“No!” said Chet. “This is something Gerald and I want to do. It will give us very great pleasure to buy these lads what they need. Please!”
“That’s good of you, Chet and Gerald. I think it’s a good idea to take Ricky, because he’ll have a better idea of what kids his age would like to wear. Ricky, maybe your buddy, George, would like to go, too.”
“Thanks, Dad. I know he will.”
All was arranged, and after lunch the cavalcade of shoppers left for the City. Unbeknownst to Chet, Trace did talk to Ricky privately. “Son, Chet and Gerald want to pay for the boys’ clothes, but Jerry and I would like to do something for them, also. When you have bought all the clothes, take the boys to the game section and see if there is some kind of computer game they might like to have. Here’s the Souchard’s business card. Have the manager of the game department call me, and I’ll give him my credit card number over the phone.”
Ricky looked at Trace and simply said, “Dads, you’re the greatest. Thank you,” and Ricky hugged Trace and Jerry.
The shoppers arrived at the City and went to one of the largest malls. At a young men’s clothing emporium, Ricky and George helped Jerome, Henri, Christophe, Louis, and Guillaume select shirts and slacks that they liked. To these purchases were added underwear and socks. Each boy was now the proud possessor of six pair of underwear, six pair of socks, four shirts and four pair of slacks, and four pair of shorts.
Although they didn’t speak much, if any, English, they did say ‘Merci, merci mille fois’ with each new purchase. Chet explained to the salesman what the boys’ situation was. As they were getting ready to pay for their purchases, the manager and salesman approached them carrying five anoraks.
“These are our gifts to these boys; God bless them,” said Tom Lawrence, the manager. “Of course, it never rains here in California, but who knows, eh? Some day they might have to visit Florida!”
Chet and Gerald shook the manager’s hand. He had one last one surprise for them.
“Gentlemen, you will be accorded the Senior Citizen’s discount.”
Next, the group went to the shoe store, and all five were fitted for both trainers and dress shoes.
Ricky had told Chet that his dads had told him to pick out some computer games for the boys and he would DEFINITELY be paying for these. Chet and Gerald smiled and said, “Ah, well, whatever will be, will be.”
Up to this point, the five boys had huddled close to each other, as if afraid they might be separated. That changed when three of the lads, eyes wide with wonder, reached the computer store.
They almost ran through the store, pointing to this game, and then that one.
Finally, Louis, Jerome, and Guillaume each picked a different game. They had never had one of these games, but they had heard about them on the television and they were ecstatic about having one of their own.
Henri and Christophe still stayed close together, holding hands. They didn’t seem too interested, and none of Ricky’s or George’s smiling, nodding, and pointing could get them interested.
Finally giving up, Ricky said, “Mr. Chet and Mr. Gerald, we might as well go. Henri and Christophe don’t seem interested in any computer games.”
As the group was walking down the mall to the exit, they passed a music store. Suddenly, Henri and
Christophe broke away and went to the window, and stood staring at the instruments on display.
The others followed and Gerald went into the store where he explained about the boys to the manager.
“The two don’t seem interested in computers, but these instruments fascinate them. I wish I knew
which one they wanted.”
Mr. George Clef (His business cards read ‘G. Clef, Manager’), the manager, smiled, and said, “Let me try something.”
He went to the window and slowly pointed to each instrument and looked at the two boys to see if they were interested in something in particular. They didn’t want a set of drums (‘Oh, thank goodness,’ thought Chet), or a bugle. They shook their heads at the electric guitars, but when Mr. Clef pointed to a simple recorder, their eyes grew wide, and they jumped up and down.
Chet brought Henri and Christophe into the store and the manager handed each of them a recorder, and they began to play a haunting melody. Chet nodded to the manager and said, “We’ll take them. Thank you.”
Mr. Clef smiled and said, “There will be no charge. My sister was working at a hospital in Haiti when the quake struck, and we haven’t heard…., and I’m afraid….”
The word ‘Haiti’ and Mr. Clef’s sadness reached the boys, and they each hugged him and said, “Nôtre père et mère aussi…”
Finally everyone was ready to go home, and all seven young boys fell asleep in the van. Ricky and George felt good that they had been able to help the Haitian lads. Before they drifted off, the lads thought about how kind everyone had been. They had really been … so kind… And they were lost in
sleep, also.
When the shoppers reached the Souchard, Gerald and Chet were ready to hit the sack. The boys, however, had to show their new possessions to Trace and Jerry, to Sam and Pete, to Andy and Wall-Eye, and everyone else. Ricky and George took them to the rooms that had been prepared for them, and helped them set up the games.
Henri and Christophe just sat in the dining room and played their recorders. The music was haunting and beautiful, and a number of staff and residents came in and sat down and listened quietly to the boys putting their hearts and souls into the music.
Finally, the events of the day caught up with them and they sopped playing. Everyone in the audience applauded as the boys looked around and saw the crowd of listeners. They smiled at everyone, and bowed, and then Trace and Jerry took them to their room. The boys almost had to be carried to their beds, but they did manage to stumble up the steps. After a short trip to the bathroom to do what
they had to do, they undressed and got into their beds, each one clutching his recorder.
Trace and Jerry started to shake their hands to say good night, but the boys were having none of that. They stood up in bed and gave each man a hug and said, “Merci, M. Trace; Merci, M. Jerry.”
Then Henri and Christophe knelt down beside their beds and began to recite:
“Papa nou ki nan sièl la,
Nou mandé pou yo toujou réspékté non ou.
Vi-n tabli gouvènman ou,
pou yo fè volonté ou so latè,”
Trace looked at Jerry and mouthed silently, ‘What are they saying?”
Jerry quietly said, “I think it must be the Lord’s Prayer in Haitian … or more correctly, Creole.”
“Tankou yo fè-l nan sièl la.
Manjé nou bézouin an, ban nou-l jòdi-a.
Padonnin tout mal nou fè,
minm jan nou padonnin moun ki fè nou mal.
Pa kité nou nan pozision pou-n tonbé nan tantasion,
min, délivré nou anba Satan.
Paské, sé pou ou tout otorité, tout pouvoua
ak tout louanj, dépi tout tan ak pou tout tan.]
Amèn.”**
The two stalwart men, who had faced enemy fire over seas and tidal waves at the Souchard, wept as they closed the door. They hugged each other, and then went to the room where the other three Haitian lads and Ricky and George were. Ricky had gotten the boys ready for bed, and the goodnights were said, and once again Trace and Jerry filled up.
They might have broken down completely until they heard Ricky say quietly, “Hey, George, want to fool around?”
“Sure. Let’s go.”
The two boys scampered down the hall to their room, and Trace and Jerry looked at each other and broke out laughing.
They hugged each other, and then Jerry wiggled his eyebrows and said, “Hey, Trace, you want to fool around?”
To be continued...
Author’s Notes.
* Henri and his brother Christophe may well have been named in memory of Henry Christophe, born 6 October 1767, died 8 October 1820, a key leader in the Haitian Revolution, winning independence from France in 1804. On 17 February 1807, after the creation of a separate nation in the north,
Christophe was elected President of the State of Haiti. On 26 March 1811, he was proclaimed Henri I, King of Haïti (From Wikipedia)…
**From the Haitian Creole dialect.
The author apologizes for any mistakes in his French words.
As usual, my heartfelt thanks to my good friend and reader, A. Nony Mouse.
Posted: 02/19/10