Page 28 of More Than a Hero
Pete stepped in smoothly. "And when you ask, repeat your name to help Ms. Brown remember who’s who."
A brief silence stretched over the room. The boys glanced at each other, shifting in their seats, hesitant. Then, finally, one of them raised a hand.
"I'm Tony," he said. "So we’d just go out in the community? What kinds of things would we actually do?"
Angie leaned forward, eager to engage them. "Have you ever been to the SuperMart?"
At the mention of the only major national discount chain on the Eastern Shore, grins broke across their faces. A few murmured in agreement, nodding enthusiastically.
"Okay," she continued, "imagine you need to go in and buy some food. Then you remember you need a pad of paper and some pens. Oh, and you also need screws because a doorknob at home is loose. Are those things all in one spot?"
Another boy, frowning in thought, shook his head. "I'm Caleb. My mom always complains about how exhausting it is to go from one end of that huge store to the other. The food’s on the left when you walk in. I can't remember where the pens and paper are, but I know school supplies are somewhere in the middle. And I remember housewares being way in the back corner when I was checking out the bikes. So no, nothing’s really close together."
Angie nodded with enthusiasm. "Exactly. Now, imagine you're alone, and you just got off the bus because you rely on public transportation. You have a cane or maybe a walker. Just the thought of making that trip would be exhausting, wouldn’t it?"
She saw it click for them. Expressions shifted from curiosity to understanding.
"So," she continued, "one outing could be a trip to the SuperMart. You and your adopted grandparent could come up with a shopping list together, and then you’d go along to help them navigate the store."
Interest sparked in their faces. She decided to take it a step further.
"Some of you play sports at the middle school, right?" she asked. "And maybe you don’t have someone in the stands cheering for you because your mom or guardian is working. What if we arranged for your adopted grandparent to cometo your game? So when you look up in the bleachers, there’s someone there for you?"
Another hand shot up. "I'm Darius. What would we even talk about?"
Angie smiled at his honesty. "Are you worried you wouldn’t have anything in common?"
He nodded.
"That’s one of the best parts of this," she assured him. "You’ll get to know someone who has a lifetime of stories to share. Maybe they have old photo albums they need help organizing. They can tell you what life was like when they were your age. And I promise you’ll be surprised how much you actually have in common."
"I'm Curly," another boy chimed in. "Where will we meet them?"
"To start, Mr. Bolton and I thought we’d have you come to the Careway Assisted Living, where they have several meeting rooms. I know you guys usually come here on Thursday nights. So for a few weeks, we’d tweak the schedule. After thirty minutes in the gym and then a shower, he and Mr. Pendleton would bring you over to the nursing home. Once we’re comfortable, we’ll plan outings."
She continued fielding their questions, answering with patience and enthusiasm. As their session came to a close, she wrapped things up.
"You don’t have to decide right now," she assured them. "Think about it, talk it over with your parent or guardian, and let Mr. Bolton or me know?—"
"I'm in."
The quiet but firm voice cut through the room. Angie turned toward the speaker, a boy who had been silent throughout the entire meeting. He tilted his head slightly, his expression steady, his words carrying weight.
"I'm Jimmy," he said. He exhaled, as if gathering his thoughts. "I remember my grandpop. I was five when he died. My dad's never been around, so it's just me, my mom, and my little sister. Before he got sick, he lived with us. He read me stories at night. He came to my kindergarten Christmas program when my mom had to work. I remember sitting with him afterward, eating cookies, feeling proud I had someone there for me."
The room fell utterly silent. Angie was certain her heartbeat was the only sound.
Jimmy hesitated for the briefest moment, as if weighing his words, but then he looked around at his friends, unashamed. "If he were still here, he’d be the one telling me stories about the old days. He’d be the one listening when I’m confused, upset, or pissed off. He’d be the one telling me when it’s right to fight and when it’s right to walk away." His gaze shifted toward Richard before settling on Pete. "You've taken on that role, but I know it’s hard. You got a bunch of us to look after, and a tough job to do. It’d be nice to have someone else to call if I needed to."
He turned back to Angie, his deep brown eyes meeting hers with quiet sincerity. She blinked rapidly, forcing the moisture threatening to spill from her eyes to stay put.
"And now," he continued, "you're offering me that. And if, for all that, I can help them, just like I helped my grandpop... then yeah. I’m in."
A heartbeat of silence. One by one, the other nine boys echoed their agreement, their faces breaking into smiles.
Angie exhaled, a warmth blooming in her chest. This was it. The first step in something bigger than any of them had realized. At the end, they followed Richard’s van, and all the boys were dropped off at their apartment buildings. Pete watched as they each made it to their door.
The ride home was filled with her excitement. She practically buzzed in the passenger seat of Pete’s truck, replaying moments from the meeting with an energy that refused to be contained.
