Chapter 1
The day I met Sarah is a day I will never forget. There was nothing obvious to mark it apart from the other days… no signs that something was going to happen. I can’t even tell you that the weather was overly remarkable. It was just an ordinary Tuesday morning in late September. The bus jerked uncomfortably over the patched and pocked road to school. I couldn’t help but look forlornly out the window. Why do we have to go and sit through another boring day of school when it is so beautiful outside? The sun was shining and the clouds were a fluffy white. The last bit of summer was clinging on for dear life. I smiled, pulled out my sketchbook and sketched a quick picture of the sky outside.
I could just picture a group of angels playing joyfully amongst the golden-capped clouds. Smiling softly to myself I turned back to the sketchbook, my pencil moving swiftly and lightly over the page, ignoring the bumps and jerky movement of the bus. I had long ago mastered the art of drawing in a moving vehicle. I can’t really explain how I did it. It must have had something to do with the way you place your pencil on the page and how well you react to the subtle changes in the sound and vibration of a vehicle before it goes over a bump. Very quickly forms took shape on the page. The forms had wings and halos and celestial smiles as they played tag with a sunbeam.
“Angels again Kathryn?” The girl behind me smirked.
“Is there ever anything else?” I smiled.
It was true. My entire sketchbook was filled with angels of some kind. The truth was that angels fascinated me. They were creatures of great love and compassion and beauty. They weren’t stained by the problems of this world. Yet they were not separate from it. So what if they were some made up creature from my parents’ religion. They were amazing and I loved them.
The girl, Amber, was in my art class at school. She was an equally good artist but her subject matter was the total opposite. Where my art was pleasing to the eye with smooth lines and soft tones, hers was harsh and fiery with sharp contrasting colour. They were two different art forms for two different artists. So, of course, we were good friends and loved to sit together in class. “You should really expand more.” Amber teased.
“Look who’s talking.” I laughed and turned back to the window.
The bus route was different this year. It dragged on into the poorer parts of town, picking up some of the residents. I frowned at the ramshackle buildings with their peeling paint and torn-up drives and opened my sketchbook again. Almost everything was a cause for art. I got inspired to sketch at some of the oddest times. This picture had a different theme to it but I still had an angel in there. I put one holding the hand of one of the dishevelled children waiting for the bus.
I sighed and closed my sketchbook and was just about to put my books back in my bag when the bus lurched to a stop. My books went flying all over the place. I bent down, frantically trying to grab them before somebody stepped on them. Just before I could reach my English text book a hand reached down and picked it up. The hand was small, grimy and somewhat scarred. I looked up into the dirty face of a girl, seven or eight years younger than myself. The girl smiled and handed me my book. I smiled somewhat thankfully back and turned back to the window. The girl promptly sat down next to me.
I chanced a glance at her and noticed that the girl was sitting hunched up in a ball, her already-too-short overalls coming up to her knees. She smelled funny, a mixture of smoke, sweat, and alcohol on her clothes. Her head, with its tangled blonde hair that fell about her shoulders, was bowed in what was either fear, sorrow or both. My heart leapt at the sight of a human being looking like that and I felt a sort of pity toward her.
As the bus crept into the school the girl raced out the door and into the building before anyone else was even standing. I moved to get up, staring after the girl, and my hand hit something on the seat. It was a timesheet with all the girl’s classes on it. The name at the top said “Sarah Brooks, Homeroom: Mr. Drew” but as I got off the bus there was no sign of Sarah.
My homeroom teacher was the English teacher Mr. McNamara. His room wasn’t to far from Mr. Drew’s. I went to my class and dropped off my books. Then I went to Mr. Drew’s room. I entered the room and looked around. Sarah sat in the back corner all by herself, an old notebook that was falling apart and a pencil that was only two centimetres long sat on the desk in front of her. She was frantically searching the pockets on her overalls for her timesheet. “Sarah!” I called. “You left this on the bus.”
Sarah looked up and smiled, taking the timesheet and clutching it to herself. I smiled at her and went back to my homeroom. I walked to the desk that I had left my stuff on and sat down. “Oh, there you are!” I looked up to see Tabitha and Nadine walking toward me. “Did you forget that we were meeting at Amber’s locker?”
I groaned slightly. I had indeed forgotten. “Sorry guys.” I told them as they sat at nearby desks. “I completely spaced. I had to do something.”
Just then Mr. McNamara came into the room and all talking stopped. I found that I couldn’t concentrate on the lesson at all. My mind kept on leading back to Sarah. I couldn’t forget that haunted, hurt look she had deep in her eyes and the way her whole face had lit up when I had shown up with her timetable. She was actually a very pretty child. It made me wonder what had happened to make her so distant and fearful.
The rest of the morning went by and I didn’t see Sarah. It wasn’t unusual. The elementary school kids, though in the same building, didn’t mix with us high school people that much. They were kept mainly to the left wing of the school. I didn’t see her again until lunch. I was sitting at a table with my friends when I caught sight of her entering the cafeteria. She didn’t seem to see me but walked up to the counter to get some food. “Hello-oh! Earth to Kathryn.” Amber’s voice pulled me reluctantly back to their conversation. “You ok? You’ve been spacey all morning.”
“Yeah, yeah I’m fine.” I assured her. “Sorry.”
“What were you looking at anyway?” Nadine asked.
“I know.” Tabitha stated, her head held high and her voice gaining the snooty tone it had when she knew something no one else knew. “She was watching that dumb girl in the fifth grade.”
“Tabby!” Nadine gasped. “That was mean. She’s not dumb. I heard she’s actually quite smart.”
“I think Tabs meant that she couldn’t speak.” Amber said. “Hey Kath, wasn’t that the girl that sat with you on the bus today?”
That got my attention. She couldn’t speak? The poor thing! No wonder she never thanked me. “Whatever.” Tabitha sniffed in contempt. “I don’t care how smart she is. I heard she smells something awful. And just look at her clothes! Who in their right mind would dress like that? Even at her age… she should care slightly.”
“Maybe she can’t help it.” I said. “Maybe she’s neglected or her family is very poor or something.”
“Whatever,” Tabitha said again, a little miffed that we didn’t just laugh and agree with her. “I wouldn’t want anything to do with her.”
“That’s shallow Tabby.” I told her, not really sure why I was defending the girl. I mean, she was cute and all, but she was a complete stranger. I didn’t know anything about her. I have to admit, I felt curious. I felt a tug at my heart, something urging me to do something.
“Oh no.” Tabitha groaned. “She’s coming over. Everyone spread your stuff out. I don’t want her sitting here.”
I stared down at my plate, trying to ignore the bad taste that had sprung to my mouth. There was a bustle of movement as the others all spread their bags around so there was no room. Sarah stopped a few feet away. I could feel her eyes boring into me but I kept my eyes on my food. I couldn’t bear to see the hurt I knew was on her face. I didn’t look up until Tabitha mentioned that she had finally sat down. “She has potential Tabby.” Nadine said. “With that blond hair and those piercing blue eyes… she could be very pretty when she’s older.”
Tabitha glared at her. “You wanna go sit with her be my guest Nadine. But don’t come back here till you’ve had a bath.”
I chanced a glance over at Sarah. She was sitting by herself in the far corner. Even from here I could see that she was crying. Large tears were rolling down her cheeks and splashing onto her food. I felt my heart break. I couldn’t believe how cold Tabitha was being. I felt so guilty. But what could I do? If I went over to her my friends would have nothing to do with me. She ate her lunch quickly and all but ran from the room.
That was the last time I saw her till the ride home. She was sitting by herself in the front seat when I got on the bus. I stopped beside her and was about to sit down when Amber grabbed my arm and pulled me to the back. “You don’t want to do that Kathy, trust me.” She said.
Sarah turned and watched as Amber led me away. When we got to the back Amber pushed me into a seat and sat beside me. “What’re you? Nuts?” she hissed at me, almost under her breath. “If you start hanging with her you will be labelled a freak… at least.”
“But it’s not right for a little thing like her to be on her own!” I argued. “Poor girl seems to have no friends. And how many people besides me on this bus can speak sign language?”
“Kathryn. She’s a ten year old brat.” Amber said softly. “Don’t commit social suicide for her. Is she really worth it?”
I didn’t answer her. I just turned and looked out the window as the bus pulled away from the school. I didn’t know what to say. That poor girl was worth far more than Amber knew. Certainly she was worth more than my reputation. But was I really willing to give up everything for a strange child I knew nothing about? “Come on Kathy. Please don’t be mad.” Amber begged. “I’m only trying to look out for you. You know that. Art school buddies remember?”
I smiled softly and looked her in the eyes. “How could I forget?” I asked. “But honestly Amb. Can you really look at her and feel nothing? Does she disgust you that much? Do you feel no sympathy for her?”
Amber turned and watched Sarah run off the bus and down one of the windy side roads. “I don’t know Kath. You’re talking to the queen of the insensitive people.”
I gave her a hard look and turned back to the window. I could barely make out Sarah’s shape, still running down the road. “No one came to meet her.” I muttered. “No one. Not a parent or sibling or other relative…”
Amber looked at me once then turned and started talking to the boy in the next seat. I just stared out the window until we came to my stop. When I got off the bus I all but ran into the house. I just needed to clear my head. I went up to my room and jotted down the events of my day in my diary. My parents had tried to get me to pray every night about what happened that day. That lasted until I was about eleven. They gave up making me pray and had me write in a diary instead.
Once I was done I grabbed my mp3 player and went outside to sit on the old tire swing in the back yard. I felt the weight of guilt and shame sitting heavily on my shoulders. I sat there, listening to my music and ignoring the world until I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned and looked up into my dad’s face. He had just gotten home from work. I had been sitting out here all afternoon.
Dad tugged my earphones out of my ears and cupped my face in his large and gentle hands. “What’s up Babycake’s?” he asked, using my childhood nickname. “You haven’t played on this old thing in years.”
“Oh Daddy!” I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck and buried my face in his shirt. “I feel rotten.”
I told him all about my day and Sarah and the response of my friends. He sat and listened, his face grave. When I had finished he grabbed my hands and led me into the house. He sat me on a kitchen chair and went about making supper. “Well, it seems to me you already realized the result of your actions so I don’t have to mention that. The only thing I can suggest is that you be nice to the girl anyway. It sounds like you want to, and it sounds like she needs you to.”
“But my friends…”
“If they act like that I would have to say they aren’t very good friends.” He told me. “I would have expected more from Nadine, being Pastor Jacob’s daughter.”
“Nadine’s always been something of a sheep.” I told him. “She may argue with Tabitha about things, but she always ends up doing what she’s told.”
“Well, I wouldn’t think that you would be a sheep.” He told me. I didn’t say anything. He looked up at me. “You are too busy worrying about what your friends think when there is someone more important you should worry about trying to please.”
“Come on Dad.” I pleaded. “Don’t turn this into some sort of religion thing. You know I don’t buy into that stuff. I mean come on! The stories are interesting and appeal to a child’s imagination. But men who can create a path of land in a sea, heal any injury and bring people back to life? The world doesn’t work like that. Maybe you and Mom can believe blindly, but I need some concrete evidence.”
Dad shook his head sadly. That was the extent of that conversation. I went up to my room to work on my homework until upper was ready. I had a lot to think about and I didn’t know what to make of some of it. It bothered me and made it difficult to work. It took me almost three times as long to do my homework that night then it usually did.
That night I fell asleep almost immediately. In my dreams I could hear a soft voice crying but I couldn’t see anything. I heard a gentle voice say, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.” Then I heard a soft fluttering of wings and my dreams changed and I was able to drift into a deeper sleep.
