Chapter 10: Seeds of Trust

Josh woke up feeling the weight of last night’s thoughts still pressing down on him. Even as the sun streamed through his window, it didn’t lift his mood. He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes, and listened to the quiet of the house. His mother was sleeping, resting up for her night shift ahead, and the house felt empty, adding to his sense of heaviness from the night before.

He dressed quietly, grabbed his things, and slipped out the door, skipping breakfast to avoid making any noise. The walk to school was uneventful, but it felt longer than usual. As he approached the school building, he steeled himself for the day ahead, but a sense of detachment clung to him, making everything feel muted and distant.

Once in class, he went through the motions, half-listening as Mrs. Thompson taught the day’s lessons. He answered a few questions when called on, but without the spark and engagement he’d shown last week. His mind wandered, and he struggled to focus on the work in front of him. A part of him felt guilty—he’d promised himself to make the most of this second chance, to stay diligent. But today, it felt like going through the motions was the best he could manage.

As the day dragged on, Josh noticed Mrs. Thompson’s watchful gaze on him. Her face held a slight frown, her expression thoughtful. He could tell she was studying him, sensing the shift in his mood. When the final bell rang, the students began filing out, but as he got up to leave, Mrs. Thompson called his name.

“Josh, could you stay back for a moment?” Her tone was gentle but firm.

He paused, feeling a flicker of unease. Nodding, he slung his backpack over his shoulder and approached her desk as the classroom emptied.

Once the last student had left, Mrs. Thompson motioned to the seat at the front of the class. “Have a seat, Josh.”

He sat down, bracing himself as he met her steady gaze. There was a kindness in her eyes, but also a sharpness that made him feel exposed.

“Josh,” she began, her voice gentle, “I noticed something last week. You were really putting in effort—attentive, engaged, almost like you were determined to make the most of your time here.” She paused, studying his reaction. “But today ... well, you seemed distracted. Like your mind was miles away.”

He looked down, feeling the pressure of her scrutiny. He wasn’t sure what to say, and he opened his mouth to come up with an excuse, but Mrs. Thompson continued, her voice softening.

“I don’t mean to pry, but I get the sense that something’s bothering you,” she said. “Is everything alright?”

Caught off guard by her attention, Josh hesitated. Part of him wanted to brush her off, to just apologize and promise to focus. But as he looked at her, he could see a genuine concern in her face. Mrs. Thompson wasn’t just another teacher doing her job—she cared. And despite his best efforts, he found himself feeling a flicker of trust.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Thompson. I didn’t mean to zone out. I just ... I have a lot on my mind,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

She nodded slowly, her gaze soft but intent. “We all have days like that. But remember, diligence is often the best tool we have to reach our goals.” She paused, then added thoughtfully, “As one famous line goes, ‘Diligence is the mother of good fortune... ‘“

Before he could stop himself, Josh finished the quote. “ ... and idleness, its opposite, never brought a man to the goal of any of his best wishes.” Then, without thinking, he added, “That’s from Don Quixote, by Cervantes.” He met her eyes, feeling a flush of embarrassment as he realized he’d just quoted something no ten-year-old should know off the top of his head.

Mrs. Thompson’s eyes widened in surprise, and a hint of a smile played at her lips. “Well, Josh,” she said, her tone laced with intrigue, “that’s quite impressive. Not only do you know the rest of the quote, but you even recognize the author and book. May I ask where you came across that?”

Josh’s mind raced, caught off guard by her question. He hadn’t meant to reveal that much, and he knew he needed a convincing answer—fast.

“Um ... I my mom has an old book collection,” he stammered. “Sometimes I just flip through the pages, and that line kind of stuck with me, I guess.”

Mrs. Thompson’s expression softened, but the curiosity remained in her gaze. “That’s an unusual choice of reading for a boy your age,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “But I have to say, it’s refreshing. You’re full of surprises, Josh.”

He managed a small, awkward smile, hoping to steer the conversation away from any further questions. “Yeah, I guess I just ... like books,” he said, his voice fading.

Mrs. Thompson studied him for a moment longer, then nodded. “Well, I hope you know, Josh, that you can talk to me if anything is bothering you. You’re clearly a bright young man, and I’d hate to see you feel like you have to keep everything bottled up.”

Josh nodded, feeling a mixture of gratitude and nervousness. “Thank you, Mrs. Thompson. I appreciate it.”

She smiled warmly, reaching out to pat his shoulder. “Alright, off you go then. Just remember—you’ve got potential, Josh. Don’t let yourself get distracted from what you’re capable of.”

Josh nodded again, managing a quiet “Thank you” before getting up and leaving the classroom. As he walked down the hallway, he felt the weight of her words lingering with him. Potential. That was what he wanted to live up to in this second chance. But how was he supposed to do that without drawing attention to himself?

As Josh left the school building and began the walk home, his conversation with Mrs. Thompson lingered in his mind. He felt a mix of relief and regret. In trying to keep up appearances, he’d almost let himself slip. But as he replayed their conversation, his thoughts kept circling back to that quote: Diligence is the mother of good fortune ... and idleness, its opposite, never brought a man to the goal of any of his best wishes.

He smiled faintly, realizing how strange it was that such an old line could still ring true. The phrase brought back memories of a time when he’d been lost and looking for direction—years after dropping out of high school. One day, during a long shift at a job he hadn’t cared about, he’d stumbled across a little website for aspiring writers. So many writers there had quoted Cervantes, particularly Don Quixote, as if his words held a kind of magic.

He remembered finally deciding to read the book himself. It had been slow at first, but something about the story stuck with him. Don Quixote, with all his impossible dreams and ridiculous quests, had seemed like a fool at first. But over time, Josh had realized that maybe Don Quixote’s foolishness wasn’t the point. Maybe it was his dedication, his diligence, that made him inspiring, even in his flaws.

As he walked along the familiar path to his house, Josh found himself relaxing, his earlier sadness lifting slightly. The words seemed to bring him back to his purpose, reminding him why he was doing all this. Just because things were difficult now didn’t mean they would stay that way. He was here to make things better, step by step, with the same kind of diligence he’d seen in that old, quirky knight who chased windmills.

By the time he reached his front door, Josh felt lighter, his earlier sense of hopelessness replaced by a renewed determination. Maybe he wouldn’t get everything right on the first try, but he was still here. He had another chance, and he wasn’t about to let it slip away.

With a small, grateful smile, he entered the house, ready to face whatever the evening might bring

When Josh got home, the house was quiet and empty. His mom had already left for her night shift, and his brothers hadn’t come back yet. He set his backpack down and looked around, automatically scanning for anything that might need doing. It didn’t take long for his eyes to land on the growing pile of laundry by the washer. Guess that’s one way to stay busy, he thought, heading over and loading the clothes.

As the washer hummed to life, he wandered into the kitchen, checking the pantry and fridge for something he could make for dinner. The options were slim—leftover odds and ends that didn’t make a meal. He sighed, wishing he’d been able to pick up a few more groceries, but he knew they’d have to stretch what little they had until his plan with Mr. Johnson came through.

Opening a cabinet, he spotted a row of ramen packets, each in brightly colored wrappers. He grabbed a few and studied them, an idea forming. Okay, maybe I can make this work. He could dress it up a little—make it more interesting than the usual quick meal his family had come to expect. A memory sparked in his mind, taking him back to ramen shops he’d visited as an adult. There, the ramen had come topped with perfectly soft-boiled eggs and a slice or two of chashu pork. A soft-boiled egg would be perfect here, he thought. It’s not exactly chashu, but maybe bacon would do the trick.

He opened the freezer, hoping for a package of bacon, but after a minute of searching, he realized there was none. “Oh well,” he muttered, shrugging. “Eggs will have to be enough.”

Josh set a pot of water on the stove to boil, recalling the process. He had to wait for the water to reach a rolling boil before adding the eggs, then lower the heat and cook them just long enough for the yolks to stay runny, adding a rich, creamy texture to the ramen. As he waited, he prepped the ramen packets, adding a few spices. By the time he lowered the eggs into the boiling water, a fragrant steam filled the kitchen, lifting his spirits.

As he finished cooking and ladled the ramen into bowls, he heard the front door open, followed by his brothers’ voices echoing down the hall. William entered the kitchen first, stopping to take in the smell.

“Ramen?” he asked, his tone betraying mild disappointment.

Josh nodded, setting the bowls on the table. “Yep. But I did a little extra with it today. Trust me—it’s not the usual ramen.”

Joel entered behind William, arching an eyebrow as he glanced at the meal. “Guess it’s better than plain sandwiches,” he muttered, sounding unconvinced.

“Just try it,” Josh insisted, handing them each a fork. They hesitated for a moment, but as they took their first bites, Josh watched their expressions shift from doubt to surprise.

William poked the soft-boiled egg with his fork, watching as the yolk spilled out, mingling with the broth. “What’s with the egg?” he asked, a little curious, a little skeptical. “And why’s it all runny?”

Josh grinned, feeling a small surge of pride. “That’s how they do it in ramen shops. It makes the broth richer. You’ll see.”

William shrugged and took a bite, swirling his noodles through the yolk. A moment later, his eyes widened in surprise. “Whoa ... this actually tastes good,” he said, slurping a noodle with enthusiasm. “I didn’t know ramen could taste like this.”

Joel nodded, trying to look unimpressed but failing to hide his approval. “Yeah, it’s not bad. Didn’t know you could do this with a cheap packet.”

They ate in comfortable silence for a while, the warmth of the meal filling the kitchen with a sense of ease. After a few minutes, he looked over at William. “So, what’d you do today?”