Chapter Nine
The sound of the door banging shut startled Rachel so badly that she dropped the plate of cheese sandwiches.
Fortunately, she had been holding it over the table, about to set it down, so it only fell a few inches.
Still, the impact caused one of the sandwiches to fall off the plate.
Rachel picked it up quickly and put it back with the others, grateful for the fact that she had taken the time to wipe down the table before bringing the food over—at least she knew it was clean.
She turned to Adam, who was hanging up his jacket on the peg beside the door. With his back turned to her, she couldn’t see the expression on his face, but his shoulders were tense. Something was bothering him—that door slam had been intentional.
“Adam?” she asked.
He planted a hand on the wall and took a deep breath, not turning to face her.
“I got Mason off to school all right,” she said hesitantly.
It was so apparent that he was in a bad mood, and she didn’t want to make it worse, but surely this would be good news.
“He was reluctant, given that today was his first day back after the break of not having a teacher, but I think the pancakes helped him feel a bit more uplifted. And, God willing, he’ll have a good experience today. ”
Adam turned toward her.
The expression on his face was twisted and dark, and Rachel sat down in a chair, taken aback. “What happened at your meeting?” she breathed.
Adam didn’t answer that question. “Do you really think he’s going to have a good day at school?” he asked bitterly. “With your stepsister as his teacher?”
“Jennifer is a tough pill to swallow,” Rachel murmured, her nerves jangling—was he angry at her? “But she does care about taking care of her students, I think…and she’s competent, if nothing else. She will give him the education he deserves.”
Adam shook his head and came over to the table. He lightly kicked a chair out from under it and dropped into it. “You give her a lot of grace. I wouldn’t have expected that. I guess family is important to you.”
“Well, yes…” She pressed her lips together.
This morning’s breakfast had given her an idea of how he would respond to what she had to say next, but that didn’t change her answer.
“But it isn’t just about family. God asks us to be gracious and merciful, and not to hold on to bitterness in our hearts. ”
He scoffed. “You think I’m doing that, don’t you? Holding on to bitterness?”
“I don’t know you well enough to know that,” she said. “You seem upset about something.” Her nerves buzzed. How could she be this direct with him?
But he did ask me.
Adam sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “I’m worried they might expel Mason.”
“What?” Rachel sat forward. “Expel him? Why would they do that?”
“For his behavior,” Adam said. “Which has been…short of exemplary. Apparently he’s been fighting.” He leaned an elbow on the table, picked up a sandwich, contemplated it, and then made as if to put it back.
“They’re for you,” Rachel said quickly.
“No, I…I didn’t know if you were going to want to say grace.” His voice was stiff.
“I did it earlier, before you got home,” she assured him. “Listen, would you like me to speak to Mason? If he’s in danger of expulsion, someone ought to talk to him.”
He looked up at her. “It really isn’t your responsibility,” he said, but there was hope in his eyes.
“You brought me here to help care for him,” she reminded him.
And though she didn’t want to say it out loud, she was also thinking about the fact that Adam had no connection to God.
And maybe that was what would make the difference here.
Maybe what Mason needed was a reminder of God’s love and care to help him.
“I’ll talk to him,” she said firmly, taking a sandwich of her own. “At the very least, it’s something that hasn’t been tried yet, and maybe it will make a difference.”
Adam nodded slowly and settled back in his chair. “You’re right, I suppose,” he said. “You may as well try—at the very least, it couldn’t possibly do any harm.”
He took a giant bite of his sandwich, and it seemed that the subject was closed.
***
Mason came trudging up the path that afternoon, his head down, his shoulders slumped. Watching him from the window, Rachel’s heart ached—what had happened today to leave him feeling so obviously distraught? She couldn’t imagine. It clearly hadn’t been a good day.
She had cut up an apple and arranged it on a plate with some cheese, and she placed the snack on the table as Mason made his way through the door.
Just like Adam, he slammed the door behind him, and the thought like father, like son sprouted unbidden in Rachel’s mind even though she knew perfectly well that the two of them weren’t related.
“Sit down, Mason,” she offered, pulling out a chair.
He looked up at her, a scowl on his face, and for a moment she thought he’d reject the invitation and run off to his room, but he dropped into the seat. He examined the plate, then picked up an apple slice and bit into it savagely.
“Bad day?” she asked sympathetically.
He shrugged.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.” His tone was cold, snappish.
“I’d like to hear about it,” she prompted.
“Why?” he growled. “What do you care?”
“I care about you plenty, Mason,” she told him. “I’ve heard you’re having trouble at school, trouble with the other children in town, and I’d like to help with that if I can.”
He was on his feet before she had finished speaking. “You can’t help,” he said sharply. “You can’t do anything. You don’t know anything about me, or about the people I go to school with, or about—about anything.” His voice rose in pitch and volume as he spoke.
She moved toward him, holding out a hand. “Mason, please. I would love it if you and I could be friends, at least.”
“No! We aren’t friends. You aren’t anything to me.
You’ll be gone soon anyway, and I don’t care.
” He threw his unfinished apple slice back onto the plate.
As he did so, the door opened, and Ruth stepped into the kitchen, but it was too late for her to have any impact on the situation.
Mason was already out the door, pushing past Ruth, running out into the yard.
A moment later, he was gone from their sight.
God, how am I going to get through to that boy? I need his trust, and I think he needs me…God, please help me find the way to his heart.
Rachel sighed and sank down into the chair he had vacated. “Well, that was a disaster,” she murmured.
“What’s going on?” Ruth went to the sink and began washing her hands. “He took off like his tail was on fire.”
“I upset him,” Rachel confessed. “I asked him about the trouble he’s been having at school—has Adam talked to you about that?”
“Not recently.” Ruth dried her hands, came over, and sat down. “It isn’t new information, though,” she went on, picking up one of Mason’s abandoned apple slices and taking a bite. “Mason’s a bit of a troubled kid. Do you know how it was that he came to live with Adam in the first place?”
“I don’t,” Rachel admitted. “I’d wondered about it, but it didn’t seem as though it was my business.”
“But maybe you should know,” Ruth said. “The truth is that he ran away from his family. They were—well, they were cruel to him. His father used to beat him.” Her jaw tensed as she said the words, and her eyebrows pulled together in obvious anger.
“I don’t know how anyone could strike a child, but he wasn’t a very good man. ”
Rachel felt ill. It was exactly the kind of home she herself had come from. No, in fact, it was worse. Her stepfather had been cruel to her, but he hadn’t beaten her. “I just can’t imagine,” she murmured. “That poor boy. It’s good he got away. And he came here?”
“He was living in the barn.” Ruth lowered her hand, her apple slice half-finished.
“Adam caught him one day stealing food from the house. Instead of contacting the authorities, he let him stay and gave him work.” She shook her head and picked up the apple slice once more.
“Saw the bruises on his arms and on his face. Mason never told us what had happened, but it was easy enough to guess, and everyone knows his father is an old drunk. The man never even came looking for him.”
“That was so kind of Adam,” Rachel said softly, a hand resting on her heart.
I just…I can’t believe that such a generous man doesn’t know God.
“It’s clear that he has a wonderful heart.
” She smiled wryly. “I suppose I wouldn’t be here myself if he didn’t have a soft spot for people in need of help. ”
She thought of her own upbringing—of Nathan, who had always been cruel and unloving. How awful it must have been for poor Mason to grow up with a father who treated him badly. No wonder he found it difficult to trust anyone. The troubles at school made perfect sense when considered in that light.
She drew a breath. “Perhaps there’s another way I can help. Something besides just talking to him.” Her mind raced ahead of her words as she planned her next move. She knew it would be difficult, and yet she was already certain that it was the right thing to do.
***
The schoolchildren were all out in the yard running around when Rachel arrived at the schoolhouse the next day.
The building was old, she noticed, and small.
The wood was rotting in some places. The grass in the yard around it was patchy and untended.
The children didn’t seem to mind that—they were yelling, chasing one another, some of them tossing a ball back and forth.
But the sight of the run-down building made her a little sad. They deserved better than that.
It was good, though, that the children were out of their lessons. It would make this easier.
She spotted Mason. He was at the far end of the yard, sitting with his back to a rock.
He had a stick in his hand. No other children were anywhere near him—in fact, she noticed a few of them veering away with furtive glances in his direction when they started to draw a little too close.
Her heart ached at the sight of it. She wished she could go over to him, say hello, remind him that he wasn’t all alone in the world—but it probably wouldn’t make things any better for him to be approached by an adult right now, and besides, she didn’t want him to know that she was here.
She hurried forward and into the schoolhouse.
The inside was dimly lit and smelled of chalk.
Rachel couldn’t help smiling at that familiar smell.
She’d loved school as a child, and it reminded her of the proud smiles of teachers when she had done something well.
She rested a hand briefly on one of the scratched wooden desks.
Several students had traced their initials into the wood.
Jennifer was at the front of the room with her back to Rachel, erasing the blackboard. Rachel cleared her throat, not wishing to alarm her stepsister with her appearance in the room.
Jennifer turned.
For a moment, she just stared at Rachel.
Her dark blonde hair was tied in a single braid today—it mirrored Rachel’s own hairstyle.
For a moment, Rachel wished she had done something else with her hair.
She knew Jennifer had always been insecure about how thin her locks were, and having Rachel standing right in front of her was bound to heighten that insecurity.
But on the other hand, there was her dress, white with blue flowers and tailor-made to fit her.
Rachel’s simple brown dress couldn’t measure up.
Maybe Jennifer was taking stock of that detail, because she straightened up and squared her shoulders.
“What are you doing here?” she asked brusquely, putting her eraser down on the ledge.
“I’m here to talk to you about Mason Starkwell,” Rachel replied, not beating about the bush. “Do you think I could sit down?”
Jennifer folded her arms. “You can take a desk, if you want one.”
Rachel nodded and squeezed her body into the child-sized chair behind one of the desks.
She fit, but it was uncomfortable. Jennifer remained on her feet, standing over Rachel, and Rachel began to regret sitting down in the first place—but she decided to make the best of it. She looked up at her stepsister.
“I’m aware that Mason is having a bit of trouble in school,” she began.
Jennifer leaned back against the wall. “Causing trouble is more like it,” she scoffed. “Every day is something new with that child.”
“I’m here to try to help, Jennifer,” Rachel insisted. “I know that you and I have had our struggles, but I care about Mason—and I believe you do too. You care about your students. I’m sure you do.”
Jennifer looked away from her and swallowed.
“The others do bully him,” she whispered.
“They can be…cruel. They tease him for not having a proper family.” Her head jerked up.
“But that doesn’t give him an excuse. He can’t keep acting up in class,” she said, but her voice was softer.
Gentle. “He can’t keep disrupting things and making it harder for the other children to learn.
He can’t lash out at them, no matter what cruel things they might say.
I don’t want to see anybody expelled, but if he isn’t able to behave, then…
it might be the best option, for the sake of all of them. ”
“I don’t want the others to be disturbed either,” Rachel said quickly.
“I don’t think those are our only options.
You know…Mason hasn’t always had an easy life.
” She hesitated. Could her pampered stepsister understand this?
“He had to run away from his family. He wasn’t well-loved by the people who were supposed to care for him. ”
Jennifer’s eyes flicked back to Rachel. She showed no sign of understanding…but when she spoke again, her words were open and genuine. “What can I do about it?”
“I think Mason needs to feel as though someone is on his side,” Rachel said, rising from the desk with some difficulty and moving to stand in front of her stepsister so that the two of them were eye to eye.
“He needs to know that his teacher believes he can do well. If you show him that, he’ll respond.
” She bit her lip. “I know you have a whole class to worry about. I know Mason is just one of your students. And I don’t expect you to want to do me any favors—you’ve never cared for me.
But I do think you are a good person—a good teacher—and that if you can help a child, you’ll want to do that.
I don’t think you want to see him get lost. I’m asking you to try. That’s all.”
She turned and walked out of the room before Jennifer could respond, hoping that she had said enough to make a difference.
God, please let her have heard me. Let her look past our animosity toward one another and focus on what’s most important here—Mason.
I know You love Mason. Help me reach him now.