Chapter 2

The following characters appear in the next few chapters:

John Pearlman

Jake’s Landlord, an older man of about 73. He has trouble getting around because of arthritis

Father Rayon

Parish Priest, 5’-11’’ tall, 195 pounds, 54 years old, dark hair but going bald, hazel eyes

Sister Denis Elizabeth

Nun, School Principal, 5’-8’’ tall, a bit thin, 37 years of age, her hair was covered by a veil

Back at the apartment following lunch, there was another problem: where to keep Hollie’s things. I was looking around to figure out where to keep them, when the landlord rang the doorbell. I went to answer the door.

“Hi John!” I said on seeing him standing there.

“Who is the young girl that I have seen you coming in with today?” he demanded in an unhappy voice.

“She’s my daughter. My Ex dropped her on me yesterday and took off with her new boyfriend,” I told him, before calling, “Hollie, come here.”

“What dad?” she asked, as she came toward the door in some of her new clothes.

“This is our landlord, John, but Mr. Pearlman to you,” I told her.

“How long is she going to be here? I thought you said that you were divorced?” John asked.

“I have been for seven and a half years. I haven’t seen the Ex in all of that time, until last night,” I told him.

“And she just left the kid here?” John asked in disbelief.

“You got it. No clothes, no nothing, just Hollie,” I told him.

“How long is she going to be here? When is your Ex coming back?” he asked.

“As far as Hollie and I know, she isn’t,” I told a very shocked John.

“But ... but that’s child abandonment!” he protested.

“Yes, it is, except, I am her father. The Ex didn’t seem to care about that when she divorced me,” I told him.

“Damn, Jake, this is going to be hard on you. What are you going to do?” he asked.

“I need to get her into school, but I work later than when school is out. I also start work earlier. I’ll need to find someplace or someone to watch her until I get home,” I told him.

“I could let her in the apartment after school, but this is no place for an eight year old to stay alone,” John told me before remembering something.

“Do you need something to keep her clothes and things in?” he asked, as he knew what furniture the apartment had.

“I was trying to figure that out when you rang the bell,” I told him.

“I have a small chest of drawers in the basement that I can let you have. It’s probably large enough to hold all of her things, but small enough to fit easily into the apartment,” he told me.

“That would be nice,” I told him with a smile.

“You’ll need to move it up here. I’m too old to be moving furniture up and down the stairs anymore,” he told me with a little laugh.

“I’ll be back in a couple of minutes, Hollie. Just leave the door open,” I told her, as I followed John down the stairs.

The chest was about 2’-6’’ wide, about 3’-6’’ tall and about 15’’ deep. It had 4 deep drawers and one shallow drawer. It was easy to estimate its size from the construction work that I had done. It wasn’t very heavy, and I easily moved it up to the apartment after thanking John. It was a bit dusty from being in storage in the basement, and I had wiped it down with a damp rag before moving it up to the apartment. Hollie was delighted with it. I had some shelf paper left from when I had moved in, and she used that to line the bottom of the drawers before putting her clothes in it after we had decided where to put it.

“Where should we put this?” I asked her once back in the apartment with the door closed.

“In the bedroom,” was her immediate answer. This brought me up short.

“Wow! ... in the bedroom? Are you going to change clothes in there?” I asked on recovering.

“No, I’ll change in the bathroom,” she replied in a determined voice. Where was the shy, frightened little girl from last night I wondered, as I looked at her?

“It will be okay, Jake,” she told me in an assured voice.

“Okay, we’ll try it. If it doesn’t work out, the chest will be moved to the living room, and you will sleep on the sofa,” I told her with a heavy exhale.

We had a reasonably early dinner at Birdy’s that evening after everything was put away, and we had watched a bit of television. There was college football on.

“How did things go?” Birdy asked on seeing Hollie dressed in some of her new clothes.

“Not too bad,” I told her before explaining about where we had been that day and the loaned chest of drawers.

“What’s next? You still need to go to work on Monday, don’t you?” she asked.

“Yeah, I’m going to talk to the priest tomorrow, and see if I can get Hollie into their school. I still don’t have a place to keep her after school, though John said he would let her into the apartment after school. He wasn’t enthusiastic about that though,” I told her. Birdy had a thoughtful look on her face following that, but didn’t say anything then.

We had finished our dinner, and I was ready to pay the check, when Birdy had a suggestion.

“I’ve been thinking that you could have Hollie come here after school until you can work something else out. At least, it’s warm here, and I can teach her some cooking while she is here. You usually eat here anyway, so it will be on your way home,” she suggested. I looked over at Hollie to see what she thought of the idea. She was smiling.

“Okay,” I agreed, “but only until I can work something else out.”

Sunday morning, we were up early to go to mass. Hollie had again spent the night pressed up against me in my bed.

The church was nearly as old as this part of town was. Many generations had passed through its doors and sat in its pews. It was large but not overly large or all that fancy. It was practical just as most things in this part of town were. Father Rayon was at the entrance welcoming parishioners when we arrived there.

“It’s nice to see you Jacob. We have missed you on too many Sundays recently,” he chided me.

“Sorry, Father, but things... , “ I trailed off there, but it didn’t matter as he had already noticed Hollie.

“Who is this with you?” he asked.

“This is my daughter, Hollie. Her mother dropped her off here on Friday night. She took off with her new boyfriend,” I told him. It was the same story I had told others on Saturday.

“When will she be returning?” he asked.

“I don’t know, but I kind of doubt it. She didn’t leave any of her clothes or other things either. Just Hollie,” I continued.

“I see,” he said in a deep voice, obviously unhappy.

“I need to get her into school, Father. I have to go to work most days and don’t have anywhere to leave her. Birdy has agreed to watch her after school until I can get something worked out,” I explained.

“See me after mass, Jacob, and I’ll see what we can work out. I need to go in and prepare for mass now. You will be here for mass, won’t you?” he asked.

“Yes, Father, I’ll be here with Hollie every Sunday,” I agreed. We went in and sat in a pew in the back. Hollie was upset.

“I don’t know what to do. My family never went to church, any church,” she whispered to me near tears.

“Just follow what everyone else does. Don’t worry about the prayers. Most eight-year-olds don’t know them yet,” I told her to keep her from worrying. I, myself wasn’t all that familiar with them either. I hadn’t been to church in a long time. Actually, since shortly after I arrived here after being thrown out of the Army. Father Rayon had helped me over the bumps of returning to civilian life then.

Mass lasted for the best part of an hour. I did put some money in the collection basket. After mass, we waited outside for Father Rayon to come out.

He finally appeared in his normal street clothes and not the vestments that he had worn for mass.

“Let’s go over to the rectory. It will be easier to talk there, and I can give you some paperwork to fill out to get Hollie into our school. How old are you, Hollie?” he asked.

“Eight years old ... Father,” she managed to say.

“So, you would be in the third grade then?” he asked.

“Yes, third grade.”

At the rectory, Father had more questions in addition to the paperwork for school admittance.

“Have you been baptized, Hollie?” was one of the first questions.

“Baptized?” she asked in a questioning voice.

“Didn’t your mother ever explain that to you?” followed.

“No, she didn’t go to church,” Hollie told him.

“So, you haven’t made your First Communion either then?” he asked.

“First what?” Hollie asked, and Father Rayon turned to me.

“Do you have any idea if she has been Baptized?” he asked.

“No, Father, I was having my trouble with the Army when she was born, and her mother divorced me soon after that. I know very little about where they have been, or what they have done,” I told him feeling very uncomfortable.

“Broken homes and broken marriages are always a problem, Jacob. Don’t feel too bad. I will check with the Military Diocese, and the churches around where you were stationed at the time. Perhaps I can learn something. If not, we can Baptize Hollie again. It won’t be a problem. She will also need to study for her First Communion. You would do well to seeing about going to confession and communion yourself, Jacob,” he told me. We then filled out the paperwork to get Hollie into their school tomorrow.

“You will need to bring her to the school at 7:30 tomorrow morning. I will speak to the principal today to arrange things. She can have breakfast and lunch at school. You will need to pay for that each week. Many families here can’t afford to pay monthly let alone quarterly,” he told us in a sad voice.

“All right, we’ll be at the school at 0730 hrs. She doesn’t have a uniform though,” I remembered to tell him.

“You can pay the principal for a couple of uniforms, or you may be able to find some used ones in one of the stores,” he told us before turning to Hollie again.

“Hollie, do you know where you went to school before coming here. We’ll need to get your school records,” Father told her.

“I went to a new school this year cause we moved when mama’s old boyfriend got mad at her. She would take me to the school in her car, but I don’t know the name of the school, and I didn’t know any of the kids there,” Hollie told him in a voice ready to cry again. Father Rayon exhaled heavily.

“A familiar story. Don’t worry about it, Hollie. We’ll start you in the third grade and see how you do. If you need any help, I’m sure Jacob, your father, can help you in the evening,” Father told her. We left soon after that.

Hollie was a wreck by the time we reached home.

“What are these uniforms?” she asked in a tiny voice and near tears. I hadn’t expected her to be upset by the idea of school uniforms. I certainly had never been, nor had any of those I had gone to school with.

“It’s usually a skirt and a blouse that girls wear. They all wear the same style and color. That’s why it’s called a uniform. Everyone looks alike. The boys wear trousers and a shirt that are the same colors as the girl’s uniforms,” I told her.

“But I don’t have any!” she wailed in misery.

“We’ll get you some tomorrow. You can wear some of your other clothes until your uniforms arrive,” I told her.

“Noo, I’ll look out of place. I’ll look different,” she moaned in tears. Why was she so worried about looking different, I wondered, but she was still talking in an earnest manner.

“We have to find some today,” she insisted, as the tears flowed down her face. Why was she so frightened, I wondered again?

“I’m not sure if anyone is open today,” I told her.

“Can we look?” she asked wiping away the tears.

“All right, we need to go out for lunch anyway. We’ll check on the way to Birdies,” I told her.

Later, we went out to have lunch and found that one of the thrift stores that I was sure would have the uniforms was open for a few hours after church. Inside, I approached on of the women working there.