Chapter 32

I slowed my activities down a little after I got back from taking Connie up to Stanford. I still spent part of every day out looking at properties, and Ken and I stayed in close contact, but I wasn't pushing it very hard at all. I was in a funny mood, wondering what to do with myself. I had decided not to go back to school in the Fall. It seemed pointless to me, when I could have my guardian enhance my knowledge on just about any subject that I wanted to know more about.

I came into contact with different girls and women everyday, usually in the course of all the moving around that I did, but I didn't find anyone that got me very excited. My charisma enhancement was working, I knew that, because I got interested looks, and even had some girls approach me. I knew that, whatever was wrong, it was me, and that I was probably just in a little funk right then.

I was doing very well financially, my parents and I were getting along well too. Tiny and Terri seemed to be doing well, and Tiny was really happy working at the boat dealership. He and my father were planning on going in together on a nice boat that Tiny had found for sale. It was a lot bigger than the old one, and they knew that they could go out further in the ocean with it. I didn't know why they would want to do that, but they did want to. Tiny and Terri still went rock fishing together, and she and Tiny had started going out square dancing, of all things. I hoped that they would stay together this time through, and thought the chances were a lot better now that they had things that they liked to do together. Tiny hadn't started putting on any weight either.

I got a long letter from Connie, all of it filled with reports about her school, classes, and the people that she was meeting. From the tone of her letter, she was having herself a ball. She wrote funny little stories about her scooter, and told of how people ducked out of the way when they saw her riding the bike on campus. She said that her friend had taken some pictures of her on the bike and that she would send me some when they were developed. I read her letter several times. I wrote back, trying to be as upbeat as she was, telling her about my financial successes and how much fun it was to fly my own plane. I mentioned that I might be flying up to her area soon, and asked if she wanted me to stop by and take her out to eat or something. I had no other reason to go up there other than to see her, but that was plenty of reason, all by itself, as far as I was concerned.

It was in the middle of September, and I was out riding my motorcycle on a late Friday morning, when I first met Diane. I was starting to get hungry, so I was heading North through Santa Ana, planning on going to this little sandwich shop that I knew over by Chapman College in Orange. I had first discovered it when I was driving around with Donna the year before. The sandwiches were good, the prices were low enough to be affordable for the college students that mostly frequented the place. The thing that I most liked about it though, was that you could go find a spot off to the side of the sandwich shop, and eat on the grass without anyone bothering you about it.

That's exactly what I was doing, eating my turkey and swiss cheese sandwich, with tomatoes, avocado, and onions, when I saw a big commotion about fifty feet from where I was sitting. It was two girls, and one guy, and the girls were both yelling, at each other, and at the young man. He looked real unhappy, just standing there and getting it from both sides. After five minutes or so, it wound down and the two girls flounced off in opposite directions. The guy just stood there for a minute, after both girls had gone, and then he turned and started walking over to the college. Chapman college campus was just across the street from the sandwich shop.

I finished eating my sandwich, and threw away my dirty napkins, and the wax paper wrapping that the sandwich had come in, and got back on my bike. I was still heading north when I passed one of the girls that had been yelling earlier. I recognized her yellow sweater, and her red hair. Normally, I would have just passed her by, but she was laying there on the sidewalk, rolled up into the fetal position, crying and wailing away just like she was in the privacy of her own bedroom. I pulled my bike to a stop, behind and just to the right of her. I had no idea at all about what I could do.

<What's her problem?>

She has several. She is pregnant, her boyfriend has just told her that he doesn't love her, and she just caught him with his other girlfriend, who she hadn't known about until ten minutes ago. She is despondent, and doesn't know what to do.

<Can you cheer her up, make her think it isn't so bad?>

I could for a short time, but to what purpose? It is bad. In addition to her social woes, she is having money problems and will be forced to withdraw from college because the check she wrote for tuition came back dishonored, due to non-sufficient funds in her account. The check that her parents sent to her to cover her expenses was, itself not good, for the same reason.

<How far along is she in her pregnancy?>

Eight weeks. She will have the child in April, approximately the twentieth. It will be a girl.

Her name was Diane Lowery, and she was nineteen years old, and from Salem, Oregon. She was just starting her sophomore year at Chapman, and had stayed down in Southern California for the summer, telling her parents that she was taking summer classes, but, in reality, living with her boyfriend, in his off campus apartment.She was a natural redhead, with the fair complexion and all the freckles that usually accompany red hair. She was about five seven, and had a slim build with nice legs and a good butt. On top she was small, probably about a 32A bra size. I had decided to help her. I was already helping five or six homes and shelters for unwed mothers in the area, and I figured that I might as well get involved on a more hand's on basis. She was cute, and I was attracted to her, as well as sympathetic to her plight. I turned off my bike and set the kick stand.

"Miss, are you all right?"

"Leave me alone. Please, I'll be all right. Just let me alone for now."

"I can't just leave you lying there like this. Can you sit up?" She sat up, but kept her face turned away from mine. I think that she expected me to get back on my bike and ride off after she sat up. When I didn't, she looked over at me.

"I'm sitting up, can't you leave now?" Her tone of voice was almost pleading with me. I could see that she was uncomfortable being seen like she was. A pretty girl like her would always be conscious of how she must look to other people.

"I know that what I'm going to tell you will make you think that I'm crazy, but my guardian angel has asked me to stop here with you, and to help you with some of your problems." I was hoping to make her laugh, or else to shock her out of her worry about her own problems. Her reaction surprised me.

"I prayed for something just like this to happen." And then, she got on her knees, put her hands together, just like a small child saying their prayers before getting into bed at night. I saw her lips moving as she prayed, I suppose giving thanks that her earlier prayer had been answered. When she was done praying, she made the sign of the cross, and then stood up. "Thank you for coming, where do we begin?" I was shocked now. I hadn't been around anyone before who would have shown that reaction to my outlandish and preposterous claim.

<Where is she living now?>

She has a dorm room on campus, but she has been living with her boyfriend in his apartment. Most of her things are in his apartment. He is not there, you can go to his apartment if she wants to retrieve her belongings.

<What is her boyfriend's name?>

Leonard Githens.

"My guardian angel told me that Leonard isn't at his apartment right now, if you want to get any of your things that are there?"

"He likes people to call him Leon, not Leonard. I guess I could do that, it's mostly just my clothes and some books. Can you help me carry it so that we can do it all in one trip?"

"Sure, that's what I'm here for, to help you." I got back on my bike, and she started walking down the street in the direction she had been heading before she stopped for her cry. At the end of the block, she turned left. I thought it was odd that she didn't want me to give her a ride, but I was just happy to see her calmed down, so I followed her on the bike. We came to a small fourplex of apartments, and she let herself into the first one on the left. Again I parked the bike and went inside.

She had left the door open when she went in. Calmly, she went through the small closet and took out some dresses and blouses. She got a small, brown suitcase out of the bottom of the closet and went to a chest of drawers and emptied out the bottom two drawers. Next, she went into the bathroom and started gathering up personal items like a tooth brush, tooth powder, and some things out of the medicine cabinet. She dropped everything into her suitcase and shut it. All of her personal items and clothes fit into that one small bag.

We went out to the small living room, and from there, she went to a cabinet in the little kitchenette, and got one of those grocery bags, the ones that are made out of tight rope knots like a net. She carried the bag with her, and started sorting through a hundred books that were organized in a homemade book case along one wall. She packed ten or twelve books, checked through the rest of the titles, and then handed me the loaded bag. She turned, grabbed her suitcase, and then left the apartment, never having spoken a word to me the whole time that she was in there.

When I came out behind her and shut the door, she was already walking back in the direction that we had come from. Thin or not, she wasn't having a bit of trouble carrying the suitcase. I got back on my bike, and was having just a little trouble riding and keeping that bag of books balanced at the same time. I followed after her. When we got to the college, I parked and hurried after her to her dorm. She told me that I wasn't allowed inside, took the bag of books from me and went in the building. In less than three minutes, she came back out.

"Now what?" She asked it in a matter of fact way, like she was sure that I would have all of the answers figured out and in my head.

"Where is your bank?"

<How much was her parents check for?>

One thousand dollars.

It's back there, in the circle."

"Can you ride on the back of my bike?"

"I'd rather not, I promised my parents that I wouldn't ride on a motorcycle. It's only a few blocks, can't we walk?"

We walked down to the circle, and I went inside the bank with her. We went over to a teller and Diane explained that she had just found out that her college tuition check was sent back, unpaid, and she wanted to find out why. We were sent over to a desk where the manager came over with an unhappy look on his face, telling Diane that the thousand dollar check that she had deposited only the week before had been returned for non-sufficient funds. Because of that, they were unable to honor her check when the college presented it. Once again Diane started crying.

"Diane, stop crying. Remember why I told you that I'm here." I had about twelve hundred dollars on me, money that I usually carried on me whenever I rode the bike, just in case I needed to use it as a good faith deposit to bind the deal on a property. I counted out one thousand dollars and asked the bank manager to deposit this in Diane's account. This brought out two smiles, one from Diane, and another from the banker. He took the money, and then hurried off to make the deposit. He came back with a receipt for the deposit and instruction for Diane to go to the college and request that they present the check again so that it could be honored. I thanked the bank manager, and then we left.

When we got outside the bank, Diane thanked me, and then she prayed, thanking God, and my guardian angel who she believed He'd sent to help her. We walked back to the college campus. Diane was still looking sad.

<What is she thinking about now?>

Her pregnancy. She doesn't know how to bring it up in conversation with you.

<How does she feel about being pregnant? About having a baby?>

She's sorry to be pregnant, but she's resigned to having the baby. Her religious beliefs do not allow for abortion. Her religion is important to her.

<Has she been to a doctor to confirm her pregnancy yet?>

No. She feels the changes in her body though. She has been sick in the morning every day for a week now. She missed her period this past month, and is due again, now.

<How difficult would it be for you to dislodge the egg, and abort the fetus?>

I am not authorized to do that for you or for her.

<Hal? Hal, can you hear me?>

I hear you, Jimmy. Your guardian is correct. He isn't authorized to do that for you.