Like everyone else in the town hall, Rodney fanned himself with a pale yellow program that Lisa Chandler had handed to him at the back door. He hadn't talked to Lisa in nearly a year. The poor woman looked like she had aged a decade--the dark circles under her eyes betrayed too many sleepless nights. It made Rodney wonder about how old he must look, considering how much guilt rested on his own shoulders.
All the windows in the large oak building were open, and the ceiling fans were running at top speed. The hot and humid July weather--combined with the body heat of over 300 people--was causing beads of sweat to roll off everyone's faces.
A few stray flies were buzzing around the room. Some of the bolder and more annoyed residents were trying to swat them, hopefully without hitting the person seated next to them. The room contained people of all ages--about a tenth of the town's current population.
Rodney reached down for his second bottled water of the night as he listened to the conclusion of Mayor Haslow's proposal. He secretly wondered if the temperature was going to drop at least a dozen degrees when Haslow finally stopped. At 66, Rodney felt fortunate to still have half-way decent hearing--though he was beginning to see the advantages of the hearing aids his older friends had.
"Our young people are out of control," Haslow shouted, pounding his fist on a podium for dramatic effect, "We have seen too many tragic events the past few years. It stops now--when you vote for this curfew to be put into law!"
Applause erupted from the crowd, all except for Rodney and maybe a few others. He knew where this was heading, but who was going to take the advice of a high school educated coffee shop owner over a panel of so-called experts?
Pleasant Valley was now a much smaller community than it had been in its prime. The remaining residents had decided to stay after two of the town's three main manufacturing companies decided to move overseas. Most of the adults in the town hall worked for the remaining company called Ectotek, which made plastics and other composite materials for other companies. Nearly everyone else had a business that wouldn't profit if Ectotek ever decided to leave or shut down.
With many parents working the same shifts or even double shifts, older children and teens had been left on their own for several years. Most of them were good kids. Rodney knew several that were regulars at his shop after school and during the summers. Many still had a routine of buying a soft drink or coffee, doing their homework, and sitting around a table with their friends.
They had never gave Rodney any trouble and were often entertained by his crazy stories about growing up in Alaska as a teenager. He liked to make him laugh, and they kept him feeling young. Rodney honestly felt like he needed that feeling of family again. His own children were grown and gone, having to leave the town to find better incomes. His wife Alice had just passed away the year before of cancer. Rodney had a void in his life, and his customers somewhat filled it. He also tried to be there for the teens as much as he could, treating them like he would his own children.
There was one boy named Bobby Chandler that even reminded Rodney of his own son Ryan. Bobby was a bright kid--not one of the stereotypical losers that Mayor Haslow kept trying to portray. Bobby's dad had walked out on him and his mom Lisa after the second company in the town closed, leaving Lisa to work overtime every day just to make ends meet. Bobby tried his best to help out, which was how he found his way into Rodney's coffee shop almost two years before the town's curfew meeting.
Rodney was cleaning the counter when the bell over the door rang. He said hello to Bobby, who had a piece of paper in his hand that he handed to Rodney. The draft from the door shutting caused Bobby's sandy brown hair to fall in his face, and Bobby seemed somewhat annoyed like it had ruined Rodney's first impression of him.
"It's my resume," Bobby said, "I'm only seventeen, so it's not that long yet. I've just noticed you're pretty busy to be handling all of this on your own and thought I'd try..."
Bobby kind of trailed off and just smiled. Rodney thought about all the extra hassle of hiring someone under 18, but the pleading look in the kid's face softened him. He appeared to have good grades and a solid list of references.
"All right, but you need to understand I'll have to limit your hours. I don't want Ol' Miss Barron to pound me with some of her books because you're failing English or something."
Bobby had been the hardest worker Rodney had ever seen in his life. He did things without having to be told, and the customers loved him. Rodney knew in his heart that Bobby had the ability to go far in life, and he wanted to help him.
The months flew by quickly. Bobby eventually opened up to Rodney about his life. Bobby's dad had seemed like a good father when he was little. Then he lost his job and was unable to find another one in town. This led to a lot of arguments with Bobby's mom Lisa, both over money itself and also the fact that Lisa was now supporting the whole family and didn't want to move away. Growing more depressed and angry at his circumstances, Bobby's father had started drinking a lot and often shouted at Bobby for no reason.
Lisa still loved him however and tried to get him help. Then one morning, he was just gone. He left them a note that he wouldn't come back until he found the answer to their money problems. Lisa and Bobby hadn't seen or heard from him in over three years. The story made Rodney's heart break.
The day after Bobby's high school graduation, Rodney handed him an envelope. Inside was a check for nearly a thousand dollars, paid to the community college a couple of streets over Bobby's house. Bobby just stared at it for several minutes, nearly in tears.
"I never expected anything like this, Rodney. Thank you so much!" Bobby said as gave Rodney a hug.
"My tax attorney told me to name it the 1st Annual Rodney D. Wilson Coffee Shop Scholarship--sounds really fancy, doesn't it?" Rodney laughed for a moment and then stopped, "Seriously, you're a great kid and have a lot of potential. I'm proud of you. I wouldn't do this for just anyone."
Rodney was never able to afford to send his own two boys to college, though he was later able to help them with their student loans. He liked the idea of maybe helping out a high school senior or two every year.
Bobby continued to work at the coffee shop that summer and often dropped by on weekends once classes began. After the fall semester ended though, it was like Bobby had suddenly vanished. Rodney got so worried he decided to call his house.
"Hello?" a woman's voice answered.
"Is this Lisa? This is Rodney Wilson over at the coffee shop. It's amazing I've never even gotten to meet you in person! Is Bobby there? I haven't seen or heard from him in awhile..."
"Look Rodney, I really appreciate all you've done for my son. The thing is his father has recently came back and Bobby's kind of going through a lot right now. I'll have him give you a call when he gets a chance. Everything is all right."
Lisa hung up before Rodney could say another word.
A few weeks later, Rodney found a large envelope in the coffee shop's mailbox. It contained ten $100 bills--along with a note in Bobby's handwriting saying he had failed his first semester and didn't feel right about taking Rodney's money. It didn't make any sense--Bobby was just too smart to give up like that. Plus, where did he get that kind of money? Had Bobby's father forced him to write the note?
After a couple of weeks, Rodney couldn't take it anymore and decided to go to the Chandler house personally. He left Candace, his new hire, in charge for the hour it would take him to drive to the house and back.
Rodney planned as he drove what he was going to say to Bobby--that if he wanted to come back to the coffee shop, Bobby could stay as long as he liked. Rodney was going to teach him how to operate a business, which he'd taught himself through trial and error. He was getting the point he wanted to retire anyway, and he knew he could trust Bobby with the shop.
Rodney was about two miles away when he first noticed smoke clouds over Bobby's neighborhood. Two fire trucks and a police car were parked in front of Bobby's house as Rodney got closer. Everyone near the house had on masks, like it was some sort of chemical spill.
There had been an obvious explosion from the basement, and half of the house was almost in ashes. Lisa was screaming in the front yard. She had just gotten off of work and somehow had no idea what her ex-husband must have been teaching their son. Two firefighters struggled to restrain her from going inside the house.
Rodney rolled down his car window to speak with one of the police officers he recognized.
"What the hell happened, Scott?" Rodney asked, still numb from what he was seeing.
"Apparently the kid and his father were making crystal meth down in their basement..."
"Meth?! Are you sure? Bobby never did drugs when he was working for me. I'm sure of it."
"Yeah? Well, the mother doesn't seem to know what was going on either, but we're going to have to take her down to the station to at least get a statement. You need to get out of here, Rodney--these fumes are harmful. I'll have someone call you if we need more information."
Rodney's stomach twisted in pain. That explained the money and why Lisa didn't seem to mind that her ex-husband had just shown up out of the blue. He imagined that Bobby's dad had flashed a lot of money around, taunting his son with the one thing that Bobby and Lisa had struggled with for years...that would be tough to handle, even for a good kid.
Rodney remembered the gratitude Bobby had shown toward his generosity, and he couldn't imagine how he must have initially felt to have his father reappear like some wayward superhero. The kid had his own hope for a better life used against him, and he probably felt too ashamed to come to Rodney once he realized the source of the money. Rodney felt both betrayed and guilty at the same time. He turned the car around and drove back to the coffee shop.
On the way back, Rodney thought about the entire two weeks that he had been waiting. All it would've taken was another phone call or a sooner visit, and maybe Bobby would still be alive. Now he and his father were both dead--just like that. Rodney had to break the news to Candace, who had known Bobby from being in school a year behind him. They shut the coffee shop down early, and Candace left.
Rodney didn't go home. He just sat at one of the booths and looking around the shop. If he didn't know any better, it was like Bobby was going to walk in any second and tell him he was okay--that it had been some other teenager in that basement. Bobby never came, though.
This wasn't the way things were supposed to turn out, and sadly Bobby would not be the last teen in Pleasant Valley to be a victim. Two college freshman suffered the same fate in their apartment six months later. There had also been growing violence both the middle and high schools, and several students had told Rodney they were afraid to even go to classes because of bomb threats and students pulling knives on each other. All of this in a town with less than 1000 students! What was this world coming to?
Another round of applause snapped Rodney out of his thoughts. No one had noticed he had tears mixed with his sweat. Apparently they were opening the floor for comments and questions. Rodney raised his hand, knowing it would be a few minutes before he was reached.
"My question is for the mayor," Bob Whittaker said as he stood up with the microphone, "What are we doing to really stop the sources of these problems? I don't see how locking up our 13-year-old daughter in our house at 9 P.M. every night is going to help her. It'll make my wife and I feel good to know she's safe, but what happens when she turns 18 and has no idea how to deal with the realities of life? All she'll know is fear. My wife and I don't want that kind of life for her."
About a fourth of the room clapped after the question.
"That's a good question," Haslow replied,"In addition to the curfew, we're also going to be funding research to figure out ways we can help these kids--character development and drug education programs for the elementary school, after school activities for the teens--there are a lot of options out there, but no one has approached me with a solid plan yet that the tax revenues can afford. We're currently working out the details. Next question."
A lot of the hands that were raised before were now down, and Rodney hesitated a moment before he stood up. It took a moment to get the microphone to him. He turned around to briefly see Lisa staring at him. She looked as if Rodney was about to tell everyone what a horrible and stupid mother she had been for letting her ex-husband come back into their lives. Rodney sighed and turned back around as he brought the microphone closer to him.
"I just have something to say about this plan, and I think I have an alternative," Rodney began. Suddenly, there were 299 sets of eyes were on him. Two unexpected flashes from a camera seemed to come from nowhere, and he paused.
"Well, let's have it then," Haslow replied in a somewhat annoyed tone.
"A year and a half ago, I received an envelope from Bobby Chandler that I believed to be drug money," Rodney began, "He told me in a note that he had failed college and didn't deserve the scholarship I'd given him. Later, it tore me up inside that he had betrayed me--that somehow I had been wrong to try to help him."
Rodney paused for a second as people began to whisper.
"You see, I let myself believe the worst of Bobby Chandler--that he was suddenly dealing drugs with his dad and on the verge of ruining his life. I lost faith in him. Deep down, I didn't want to face him--not knowing what he was going to look like or how he was going to act when I seen him again. When I finally decided to take action and do what I thought was right to protect him--I was too late."
Rodney fought to keep his composure and continued. Lisa had mascara-stained tears running down her face.
"I spoke with Lisa Chandler about a year ago. She told me that her and Bobby had no idea what her ex-husband was doing, and I honestly didn't believe her at first. Then she told me that Bobby had been working late shifts with her a Ectotek all through the fall semester and had earned enough money to pay for his spring semester and pay me back. He had still made straight-A's, but Bobby needed an excuse to return what he considered to be a handout. Lisa assumed he was just going to surprise me later, but he never got the chance. I now believe that Bobby was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, walking in on his father around the time of the explosion."
Nearly everyone in the crowd hung their head at the realization of something that had never occurred to them--that an innocent kid had died and his memory had been tarnished for the past year and a half. A few people, mainly the teens and a few of the parents, were trying to hold back from crying.
"I'm honestly sorry about what happened to Bobby Chandler," Mayor Haslow interjected, "but what about all these other events that are happening. What's this big plan of yours to fix the problem?"
"As parents and grandparents, we do need to help our children," Rodney replied, "That's a fact--and it's not just about throwing a lot of money on the problem. They're living in such a messed-up world right now that it's a miracle they even make it to adulthood. They need us--not just for money for the next new gadget but for the love and support that they keep running to these other sources to obtain!"
Rodney was somewhat surprised that only three-fourths of the room clapped. Maybe the other fourth liked the curfew idea so much that they didn't want to show Rodney a lot of support, or maybe there were people just like he was--afraid to face their own guilt and responsibility.
"Look, if we treat our children like criminals, they're going to start acting like they are--either by giving up on themselves or rebelling completely against all of us," Rodney continued, "Why is it that we keep following every single trend that pops up outside this community? It's like we keep getting bent back and forth until one day this place is going to snap like a twig!"
A few people nodded in agreement. Rodney sighed and took a deep breath.
"We can't blame the music. We can't blame movies or video games. We can only blame ourselves--good men and women who have sat by and done nothing at one time or another. That's a tough concept for people to swallow these days, and there's other people out there that would prefer that we treat ourselves like dumb cattle."
Haslow was somewhat offended by this, but he held his toungue and let Rodney continue. Rodney did have a point, and Haslow had a 14-year-old son of his own that was more important than him forcing the issue of being right. He began nodded at Rodney's statements, which cued most of his supporters to drop the issue.
"That's not me," Rodney continued, "The good thing about taking responsibility is we can turn things around--if and only if enough of us start having the backbone to stand up for our families and communities. These situations are not hopeless. We are not helpless. I just pray to God we can get our act together before we're still living in just as violent of a world this time next year--with a lot less freedoms. That's all I have to say."
The curfew was voted down 2304 to 3. Rodney gave out nearly two hundred of the "Bobby Chandler Memorial Scholarship" to the teens of Pleasant Valley until his death, ten years after the town meeting that caused the spark of hope that saved the town of Pleasant Valley.
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