Second Chances Chapter 23 La Vie en Rose
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A Second Chance - Chapter 26 free porn video
THURSDAY, May 19, 2016
Gary woke up in his hidey-hole at the break of dawn. There were two
withering apples looking back at him from the ledge. His 'angel' had
told him to eat them when he was hungry, and he hadn't been hungry since
he stopped drinking. On Sunday, perhaps he would. They still looked
edible, although another week in the damp tunnel would probably mean
they wouldn't be. He could go without food for a day if he needed. He
certainly had during the times when alcohol consumed his life.
With nearly two weeks sober, Gary was remembering his past life. Not
that that was a good thing. There was much he wished he could not
remember. He almost wished that he could have stayed in that addled
state he had been in last week, not remembering, but able to take pride
in keeping his neighborhood clean and tidy. The gifts from the
storeowners, and the sandwiches from Rachael, his 'angel,' had made life
good. Or at least livable.
As his mind had cleared he realized that Rachael was just a schoolgirl:
daughter to the pretty lady from the bakery. He could see the
resemblance. The mother had more curves, but both had a similar, cute
face. It had been Rachael who had delivered him from his alcoholic haze.
He still couldn't touch anything alcoholic. It tasted horrid to him. He
loved pure water. Even coffee no longer had an attraction to him. That
was a good thing. Even a $2-a-day coffee budget was beyond his means, at
least until his next welfare check came in. Without booze to spend it
on, he would have ready cash for a change. He wasn't sure if that was a
good thing, or not.
Two days ago he was sweeping the streets outside the bakery when a well-
dressed woman had offered him a toonie. At first he wanted to refuse,
and suggest that she give her money to someone who needed it more. Then
he realized that this could upset the lady, who was offering the money
out of the kindness of her heart. So he pocketed the coin, and blessed
the woman for caring. The money still sat in his pocket. Perhaps if he
ate the apples on Sunday, he could use it to buy two more for the next
Sunday. He liked the idea of giving it back to the Italian lady who had
been helping to feed him for the past few weeks.
Rachael, the girl who started it all, had asked if he could get cleaned
up. He raked his hands through his scraggly long beard and then his
equally unkempt hair. Neither had been cut for two years, and he
wondered how it would feel to be clean-shaven with a haircut. He planned
to ask Ariel when she came in just before noon. She claimed that she was
unable to repay him for sweeping in front of her shop, let alone the
painting he had done on her window.
Gary had been a finish carpenter and a machinist, years ago. As a
cabinetmaker he specialized in building fine furniture and had a
business with five employees once. More people that he had let down. The
list was a long one. His loving wife, Heather. His handsome young son,
and most especially, Cassandra.
Cassie had been the light of his life. She had been 13, the same age as
Rachael, and looked a lot like the young girl. Perhaps that is why he
had originally seen Rachael as an angel. The angel that Cassie now was.
Cassie had died just over 10 years ago, only a few months before her
14th birthday. He had come home from work to pick up some plans he had
been working on and found her in the bathroom, sitting in a blood-
stained bathtub with the knife she had used to cut her wrists laying on
her lap.
He called 911, but knew it was already too late. The girl had left
school during lunch, and come home ... to do this. He phoned Heather
next, and waited alone with the body until people started coming. The
police. The EMTs. His wife: then friends and relatives.
He broke then and there. For a few weeks he pretended that it was all
okay. Being strong for Heather and their son. But he started to drink.
It eased the pain. He couldn't understand why. Why had such a vibrant,
pretty, intelligent girl taken a knife to her wrists? The hospital said
that she had cut herself before, with some scars as much as two months
earlier. How could they have missed the signs? Were there even any
signs?
Two drinks after work each evening turned into four, and then six. Soon
he was buying bottles at different liquor stores, sometimes claiming he
was planning a party. He started drinking during the day as well. It
numbed the pain.
Of course a business can't survive when the owner is an alcoholic, and
Gary now knew that he was one at that time. Sales dropped, and
eventually he had to close the shop. He sold the equipment to one of his
staff, who went into business himself, hiring one of the other workers.
That left Gary at home all day, and of course that resulted in him
drinking even more. His wife eventually kicked him out, and he took a
small room in a downtown boarding house 'to dry out.' Instead he just
drank more and more. He went on welfare, and then after four or five
years, the alcoholic haze started. He just stopped going to the boarding
house, and spent a summer living on the streets. When winter came, it
was a mild one, and Gary was able to stay alive bundled in blankets he
pushed around in an old grocery cart. It was two years later that he
found his hidey-hole, and moved in.
During the alcoholic haze, Gary had been able to forget. Sometimes.
Other times it all came back to him. Sometimes he didn't even know why
he felt so sad and worthless. He just huddled himself in his hole, and
didn't come out for days. Nursing a bottle of cheap gin, keeping himself
in that haze.
Then there was the day he had met Rachael. She had appeared like an
angel to him, and he felt compelled to do what she said. She wouldn't
let him drink, but told him how great water tasted. She fed him
sandwiches, made from the most incredible tasting bread. A sandwich from
Rachael was more filling than the meals from the soup kitchens that were
within walking distance.
Then he started paying back. It was in a small way, but sweeping and
keeping the block clean became a mission for him. He hadn't planned on
getting anything from the shopkeepers: he only wanted to make a small
part of his world a better place, even if it was just from dirt and
litter. The food that eventually came was just a bonus: perhaps a sign
from above that what he was doing was right.
Gary took pride in keeping the block clean. He only swept in front of
the shops, but as his health recovered he walked further and further in
his litter patrols, going as far as the schools. He wanted to pick up
litter in front of the schools, but someone complained about the raggedy
man 'hanging around' and a police officer stopped him and suggested that
he stop two blocks short of the school during the day, and only go to
the school at dusk. That worked. There had been a lot of litter around
the school, and it bothered Gary.
Ariel was in early that day, and saw Gary shambling up to her as she
parked her car in one of the spots behind the shop. "Hi Gary," she said
in a friendly voice.
"Hello Miss," Gary said. He hesitated. He didn't like asking for favors.
"Rachel came by last night, and said that she wanted me to clean myself
up. I wondered if ..."
"Certainly, Gary," she said. "I don't do men's shaves, but I could cut
most of your beard away with shears. You'd have to shave the rest
yourself, but I do have a straight razor I can lend you. And your hair?
I'd love to do something with it."
"Just a brush cut would be enough," Gary said.
"I think we can do better than that," Ariel said. "Come inside. I have
an hour before my first appointment, and that should be enough time. I
was wondering why I was coming in so early. It must have been for this."
Ariel was true to her word. She had to shampoo the tangled hair four
times, and never was able to get a comb through it smoothly. But she was
able to cut it fairly short on the sides, and then about an inch long on
the top. Gary was blessed not to have any bald spots, and actually
looked good with short hair.
Then she tackled the beard. As promised, she used the shears to cut it
to stubble. She then led the man into the small washroom/shower in the
back, and handed him the straight razor, after stropping it to
sharpness. She also told Gary to take a shower when he was done.
"I'd love to put your clothes through the washing machine for you," she
said. "But I think they might disintegrate into rags. And it would take
a couple hours to wash and dry them, and you'd have nothing to wear
during that time."
"What's this?" Gary said, pointing to a box of clippers under the sink.
"Oh, I got them from the school I took hairdresser training at. I
thought maybe there would be a good one in there, but they are all
broken. Maybe you could shuck them out when you are done?"
Ariel was working on her first customer when the girl let out a shriek.
"There is a man in the back," she gasped.
"Oh, that's just Gary," Ariel said, slipping into the back. Gary was
there, and he looked really good, clean-shaven and presentable, except
for the raggedy clothes. Ariel tried to think of a way that she could
get some better clothes for the man. She let Gary out the back way with
him carrying the box of damaged clippers, then went back to her client.
"Sorry for the interruption," she told the girl.
"No problem. He just startled me. Is that your boyfriend?"
"Boyfriend? No. He is just a friend. He painted the front window of the
shop."
"Really, that is such an awesome painting."
As she continued to clip and style, Ariel wondered. Gary did look
handsome now that he had cleaned up. He was a bit old for her, probably
in his 50s, she thought. Before he cleaned up, he had looked 70. He
seems to be getting better, Ariel thought. Hopefully he can turn his
life around.
* * * *
That morning Rachael went to school a bit troubled, although she didn't
know why. On the bus Mikki reported that, for the first time since
Danni's haircut, her father had not slept on the sofa. She was ecstatic
about the new dynamic in her family, and was probably about as high as
the day after Rachael had become her friend.
It was lunch when Rachael realized what had bothered her. She was
sitting with her friends when she looked up and saw Layla sitting alone
at the end of a table that had mostly Grade 6 and 7s at it. Rachael
thought she saw a black cloud hovering over the girl's head. She looked
again, and it was gone.
"Look," she told Carly and Mikki, "I have something I have to do." She
gathered her lunch and carried it over to the table Layla was sitting
at.
"Mind if I sit here?" she asked.
Layla just scowled at her but Rachael sat down anyway.
"How are you doing," Rachael said. "You left all of a sudden when we
were in gym. Were you okay?"
"Yeah, I just needed to get away from ... you ... everything. I'll
probably get detention for it."
"Naw, that is cool," Rachael said. "I told Ms. Smith that you had
'female problems,' and she bought it."
"Why did you do that for me?"
"We are friends, aren't we? We had fun together at the sleepover."
"NO! We are not friends," Layla shouted. "I hate you. You took all my
friends away. You are all doing fun things, like another movie/date
night tonight, and I'm not going."
"You could be, if you want," Rachael said. "And I don't hate you. I like
you. I think of you as a friend, and I want to help you. Your friends
didn't leave you for me. You kinda pushed them away. And friends aren't
a one-or-another thing. You can have as many friends as you want."
"Do you really think I could go to the movie night?" Layla said. "Who
would take me after I've been such a bitch to every one this past week
or two?"
"I know just the guy. Neal Patterson. He went out with Louise Byron last
week and she is nowhere near as pretty as you. But her Dad hit the roof
over his little girl dating at 13, and said she can't go again. He
wasn't planning on going, but I think we can squeeze the two of you in."
"Neal the Nerd," Layla scoffed. "Like I would consider going out with
him."
"Neal the boy who is sitting at a table with maybe 20 friends, including
Carly and Becca, while you are sitting alone at a table with me,"
Rachael replied to the slur. "You should check him out. Did you know he
is a gifted artist? He drew a sketch of Louise that looked like one of
Mikki's photos. You should take a look at his sketchbook. He might be a
famous artist one day."
"Really? Hmmm. You know, he really isn't that bad looking, is he?"
"Well, you never know what a boy looks like until into high school,"
Rachael said. "But Neal could turn out to be a real hottie. And if you
don't hit it off, there is no real loss. It isn't like you are marrying
him. You aren't even going steady. Just going to watch a movie with
him."
"Well, okay I guess. What do I do?"
"Just follow me," Rachael said. They walked back to the group, and
George, the boy sitting between Carly and Neal was pulled from his seat.
She pushed Layla into his spot. "Neal," she said. "I was telling Layla
about your drawings and she didn't believe how good you are. I made her
a bet. If she decides your work is good, she will go to movie night with
you. Are you game?"
Neal gulped. Layla was one of the prettier girls in the class, and a
date with her was something he had considered impossible. Now she was
sitting next to him. He quickly pulled his sketchbook from his backpack
and opened it.
Rachael walked away with George, thanking him for giving up his seat. As
she left, she just happened to see Carly put her hand on top of Layla's
and give it a squeeze. Layla turned and looked at her for a second, and
smiled.
Rachael was sitting at the other end of the table next to Robert when 10
minutes later Layla shouted her name. Then a toonie came sliding down
the table: the fee for Neal and Layla to attend the movie night.
When classes ended, the gang all headed home. They were amazed when they
stopped to give Gary his sandwich. He was clean-shaved and looked much
younger. "Yummy," Larissa proclaimed. She had modeled in France with
older men on occasion, so wasn't as age-sensitive as the other two.
There was a quick stop to see Grandpa and some dogs. When they left,
Rachael got home and made some spaghetti from Momma DaSliva's sauce, and
had it ready when her Mom got home. She ate a quick salad while the
sauce was cooking, but had to leave as soon as Maria walked in the door
to get to the library on time. Bobby had decided he didn't want to go to
movie night tonight.
When she got there she was surprised to see that Carly was leading the
gang in setting up. The movie was three hours long, and that meant a
6:45 start. They started late, but Heather the librarian said they could
run a bit long, if they cleaned up.
Robert was there at 6:40, looking tired. "I just finished milking 30
cows at JJs farm," he said. "Mom will pick us up at 10." Rachael
wondered if she was going to get any clues as to why Mrs. Jackson was so
insistent on her coming to the farm on Saturday.
The movie went well. Rachael enjoyed it far more than last week, with
Robert's muscular shoulder to lean against. She amazed herself at how
different the girl feelings going through her body were, compared to her
former male life. Mark and Larissa were better behaved. The fact that
the movie was about the D-Day liberation of her country held Larissa's
attention tightly.
Halfway through the movie Rachael noted that Robert was getting fidgety.
"What's wrong, honey," she whispered.
"I ... I dunno. I wish I knew the rules about all this stuff. Peter says
girls just like to be kissed, and to do it if you want, but it kinda
feels rude."
"It would be rude, if the girl didn't want it. The safe way is just to
ask if she wants to."
They sat another few minutes, then Robert asked: "Would you like to
kiss, Rachael?"
"I would love it," she said.
"I don't know how, exactly," he said.
"Either do I. Let's just try," Rachael said, turning her head up to the
taller boy.
"Wow. That was incredible," Robert gasped. "Your lips ... they are so
soft. I ... I really liked it."
"So did I," Rachael said. And she did, all eight times during the rest
of the movie.
They cleaned up, and found that Heather had taken a seat to watch the
end of the movie. The kids immediately went into action, and had the
place spotless at 10:15. Everyone headed downstairs, where there a line
of parent's cars went down the block. Robert pointed to his Mom's and
walked towards it, holding Rachael's hand.
Mrs. Jackson smiled as they climbed into the back seat. She turned
around and looked at her son. "I see you are starting to wear lipstick,
Robbie," she teased.
That led to a hurried attempt to clean the lipgloss off of Robert's
face, which was also red with embarrassment. The result was that the car
was at Rachael's house without her having a chance to find out about
Saturday. She invited them in, but Mrs. Jackson said that she was in a
hurry to get home.
Bobby had already gone to bed, without any Harry Potter, although Maria
said she had read to him from his library books. She was still packing,
which reminded Rachael she had a lot to do. But since it was weeks away,
the move didn't bother her.
She finished her science homework. The other subjects were all using the
project, and French was always done in class. Then she prayed.
Dear Lord
Thank you for another good day. I think Layla was in danger, and I hope
we pulled her back. She did seem really friendly with Neal after the
movie tonight, so maybe she will be back with us. And Gary! He cleaned
up really well. I think I might be able to get him a job tomorrow. Bless
us all, and everyone else too.
Amen
Jeannie
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