On the Other Side of the Bridge

by Ray Villareal

  A lot of heads nodded in agreement.

  “Jo Marie’s dad is going to ask the church to help with the project, but I want our class to be in charge of it.”

  “Is there a particular reason why you’ve chosen the Helping Hand for us to work with?” Mrs. Finley asked.

  “Um … well, Mr. Marriott, the director, is a friend of ours, and me and my dad are pretty familiar with the place,” Lonnie told her without elaborating.

  After class, Jo Marie approached him. “I’ve never seen this side of you, Lon Chaney. I feel like I’m only now getting to know you.”

  “Same here,” he said. “I guess there’s a lot we don’t know about each other.”

  Before the start of the service, Lonnie invited his dad to sit with him and the youth in front.

  Brother Beasley opened with “O Come, All Ye Faithful.” While Lonnie’s dad sang, some of the kids stared at him, amazed by his deep, clear voice.

  “He sings in a band,” Lonnie whispered to Jo Marie.

  After church, Brother Beasley praised Lonnie’s dad for his singing talent. “I could hear you above everyone else. Have you ever thought about joining our choir?”

  “I ain’t a member here,” he said.

  “Well, if you’re searching for a church home, perhaps you might want to consider this one.”

  “We’ll see.”

  Lonnie and his dad had lunch at the Golden Corral, an all-you-can-eat buffet restaurant. It was the fanciest place at which they had eaten in a long time. With money in his pocket from his catch-out jobs, Lonnie’s dad said he felt like splurging. There were dozens of food choices at the buffet line, plus desserts, and they ate like kings.

  “Your grandparents Salinas called,” Lonnie’s dad said. “They want us to spend Christmas with them.”

  “Can we?” Lonnie asked, knowing how his dad felt about them.

  “Sure, why not? They’re still your grandparents. I don’t wanna keep you from seeing them. Just don’t say nothing about us being homeless.”

  “We’re not homeless,” Lonnie said. “We have a home. And pretty soon, we’re going to get another one.”

  “A much better one, buddy. A much, much better one.”

  Lonnie finished his peach cobbler, then pushed his plate away. Sitting back in his chair, he asked, “In the movie The Ring, how many days did the characters have to live after they watched a certain video?”

  “I don’t know. Thirteen?”

  “Come on, Dad. We watched it back in the summer. It was seven.”

  “Well, I think thirteen’s a better number. You know, ’cause thirteen’s bad luck. And speaking of thirteen, do you remember how the audiences in the movie theaters were able to see the ghosts in the original movie, 13 Ghosts?”

  “Didn’t you tell me they had to wear special Ghost Viewers?”

  “Hey, buddy. You got a sharp memory.”

  Lonnie’s dad looked happy and relaxed. As far as Lonnie could tell, he hadn’t had a beer all week. Soon, he would start working at the Merriday Trucking Company again, which Lonnie saw as a belated Christmas present for the both of them.

  With school out, Lonnie would have to spend his days at the Flournoy Center, but at least Bobby Arbuthnot would be there to keep him company. Or maybe not. Hopefully, Bobby and his family would be living in a house or in an apartment before long.

  That evening, Lonnie returned to church for the Youth Christmas Party. He encouraged his dad to stay for it, worried that if he didn’t have anything to do, he might be tempted to go out and drink.

  A large barrel had been set up in the atrium, with a sign taped to it that said: TOILETRIES. A few items had already been dropped in it. Mr. Marriott had recommended that donors buy travel-size products to make it more convenient for his clients to carry them. Brother Elrod stressed that when he made the announcement about the project.

  The fellowship hall was decorated with streamers and Christmas lights. There were tables with sandwiches, cookies, chips and punch. Oldies rock music mixed with Christmas songs played in the background.

  Ms. Reese, the youth director, tried to get the kids to dance, but except for a few daring souls, almost everyone shied away.

  “Why don’t you ask one of those little girls to dance with you, buddy?” Lonnie’s dad asked.

  “No, Dad. I don’t know how to dance.”

  “Come on, Mr. Rodríguez,” Ms. Reese said, taking him by the hand. “Let’s show them how it’s done.”

  “Wait, I … I ain’t danced in years.”

  “Go on, Dad,” Lonnie said, laughing. “Show us how.”

  His dad followed Ms. Reese to the center of the room. Lonnie expected him to look foolish, but his dad impressed him with his moves. As big as he was, he glided across the floor with grace and ease. Pretty soon, other adults and kids joined them.

  “Dance with me, Lon Chaney,” Jo Marie told him.

  “I don’t know how to dance,” he said.

  “No one does until they start. Come on, I’ll teach you.”

  Why not? Lonnie thought. If his dad was willing to give it a try, so would he. With so many people dancing, no one would notice if he messed up. At first, he tried to imitate Jo Marie, but as he got into the rhythm of the music, he improvised his moves.

  He looked over at his dad and Ms. Reese. It was weird seeing him with another woman. But Lonnie realized that eventually, his dad would marry again. Not anytime soon, he hoped, though he knew his dad was too young to spend the rest of his life alone.

  “Let’s go see if anyone’s brought more toiletries,” he told Jo Marie when the dance number ended. They walked to the atrium and looked inside the barrel. A few more items had been added.

  “This is a really good idea,” Jo Marie said. “Thank you for organizing it.” She reached up and hugged Lonnie. As he held her in his arms, he felt a strong desire to kiss her. He thought she would have let him, but he resisted the urge and pulled away. It was too early. Maybe later, but the moment didn’t feel right.

  After the party, Lonnie and his dad drove back to the shelter.

  “Did you have a good time, buddy?”

  “Yeah, I did. How about you?”

  “Pretty good. The people there sure are nice.” He paused, then said, “I wonder what my family would think if I became a Presbyterian.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  “MERRY CHRISTMAS!”

  Lonnie’s dad and his in-laws embraced each other warmly, apparently willing to forget the past. Uncle Beto and Uncle Rubén, their wives and Lonnie’s cousins, Socorro and Amanda, were there, too.

  “What do you want me to do with the presents?” Lonnie asked his grandpa.

  “Put them under the Christmas tree.”

  Candles were lit throughout the house, emitting a scent of apple and cinnamon. Green garlands with red bows were draped across each entryway. Kindling crackled in the fireplace and Christmas music wafted from the stereo. Lonnie was glad to be at his grandparents’ house, but his heart ached, knowing this would be their first Christmas without his mom.

  For dinner, they ate tamales, rice and beans. Dessert included buñuelos and cinnamon tea.

  Lonnie’s grandpa asked his son-in-law how they were doing, and he told everyone they were doing great. He said he was back at the Merriday Trucking Company, and they were now living at the Willow Tree Apartments near Lonnie’s school. Those things wouldn’t be true for a while, but no one needed to know that.

  “And Lonnie’s got this project going where he’s gonna get people at his church to donate toiletries, like soap and deodorant and toothpaste. Then he and the kids in his Sunday school class are gonna hand them out to the homeless people at a shelter downtown. Lonnie came up with that idea all by himself.”

  “How wonderful,” Lonnie’s grandma said. “I don’t know of any other thirteen-year-old who would think of doing something like that. These days, most kids only think about themselves. Forget about helping others.”

  “Your mam
i would be so proud of you, mijo,” his grandpa said.

  “Speaking of Becky,” Uncle Beto said, “Rubén and I ordered a headstone for her grave. It’ll be ready the week after New Year’s Day, and I’d like for all of us to go to the cemetery to see it and to say a few words.”

  They opened Christmas presents. Lonnie’s grandparents gave him a winter jacket, for which he was grateful, because his old one barely fit, and they didn’t have the money to buy another one. Uncle Rubén gave him a watch. Lonnie didn’t own a watch and never felt he needed one because he had always relied on his cell phone to keep track of the time. But until his dad could afford to get him a new phone, the watch would come in handy. His grandma frowned when he opened Uncle Beto’s present.

  “Ay, Beto, why are you giving Lonnie that junk?”

  “This isn’t junk, Grandma,” Lonnie said, holding up a DVD of Brain Eaters from the Black Hills.

  “I know you like horror movies, so I thought you’d enjoy that one,” Uncle Beto said.

  “Let me give you my presents,” Lonnie’s dad said and passed them out.

  His mother-in-law tore open the wrapping from the box and took out a porcelain figurine of a little girl with her arms around her mother’s waist.

  “That’s a Lladró,” Lonnie’s dad explained. “Becky liked to collect them, but me and Lonnie don’t need those fancy things, so I thought you’d like to have it.”

  His mother-in-law’s eyes teared up. “This is so beautiful,” she said and kissed him on the cheek.

  Uncle Beto and his family received a Lladró Don Quixote figurine and Uncle Rubén and his family, one of a ballerina.

  Lonnie’s dad was given gift cards: to Red Lobster, Macy’s and Home Depot.

  After they left, Lonnie wasn’t ready to return to the shelter, so he asked his dad if he could drive them through the R Streets to look at Christmas lights. His dad agreed, but said that it would have to be a short trip because he had to conserve the gas in his car.

  As they drove, Lonnie wondered what it would be like to live in one of those mansions, to live in that kind of luxury. He also wondered if the people who lived in those houses had any idea that there were thousands of men, women and children who would be spending Christmas night without a decent place to sleep.

  “You know what?” his dad said after a while. “I’m thinking about us going to Abilene for New Year’s Day.”

  Lonnie sat up. “Seriously?”

  “Yeah. My parents always throw a big New Year’s Day party, and I figure that if I’m gonna see your mom’s family, I oughta see mine, too.” He grew quiet for a moment. “You know, I’ve made a lotta mistakes, and I’ll probably keep making them. But that ain’t no reason to stay away from my family. Besides, they’re your family, too, and I ain’t got no right to keep you from them.”

  Lonnie thought it would be great to see Rita, Henry K and Julián again. He would’ve liked to have moved to Abilene, but after spending the past few weeks in hell, he was thankful for the chance to live in a real home again.

  “Hey, buddy. I’m getting kinda tired of listening to Christmas music. Find another radio station, would you?”

  “It’s Christmas, Dad. I think they’re all playing Christmas songs.”

  “Then pop in a CD or something.”

  Lonnie opened the console and took out a Los Brujos demo CD, one of several his dad kept in his car. The first song was titled “Caught in a Moment of Time.”

  “You know, I never did hear back from the owner of the Club Monte Carlo,” Lonnie’s dad said. “I guess he’s decided to stick with DJs. That’s all right. When I start working, I won’t need to be out at night, trying to make extra money.”

  “So does this mean that Los Brujos is breaking up again?” Lonnie asked.

  “Yeah, I think so. I’m getting kinda old to be playing in a band.” His dad turned down the volume. “Listen, buddy, I’m real sorry I didn’t have money to buy you Christmas presents this year. But as soon as we get our things out of storage, I want you to have my guitar. That’ll be my present to you. I’ll teach you how to play it real good. I want you to practice every night, and then …” He paused. “Well, maybe on the weekends or when you ain’t got homework. I want you to do real good in school, so you can go to college, maybe to Hardin-Simmons or SMU. And then one day, you’ll make a lotta money and have a house out here on the Rich Streets.”

  “Maybe,” Lonnie said. “But right now, I’ll settle for having a place to live in other than the shelter.”

  At the Helping Hand, Lonnie sat on his bed and studied the DVD cover of Brain Eaters from the Black Hills. According to the synopsis, the movie was about zombies that attack an army fort in the 1800’s. A movie about Union soldiers fighting zombies. How cool was that? Of course, he wouldn’t be able to watch it, until they moved out of the shelter, and they took their TV and DVD player out of storage.

  It didn’t matter. He knew how the movie would end. The zombies would eventually kill all the soldiers or turn them into zombies. Still, he looked forward to sitting down in their own apartment to watch it.

  Their own apartment. He could hardly wait.

  EPILOGUE

  LONNIE DIDN’T KNOW IF HE WOULD EVER FULLY understand why his mother had to die so young. The Bible tracts Jo Marie gave him didn’t provide the answers he was looking for. Maybe there were no answers. Or maybe the answers were so complicated, they went beyond his ability to comprehend. In any case, he had given up trying to figure it out, except to say that it happened, and he had to move on. Otherwise, the not knowing would drive him crazy.

  Every day, though, he felt his mother’s presence in his life. After they moved into their apartment, and he began arranging the furniture, he kept thinking: This is where Mom would’ve put the sofa and the television. This is where she would’ve sat the china cabinet. This is where she would’ve hung these pictures.

  Lonnie’s dad continued to return to the shelter for his AA meetings. Lonnie would have been okay with it if his dad had an occasional beer, but as far as he could tell, his dad had given up drinking completely.

  “I messed things up once, and I ain’t planning on doing it again,” he told Lonnie.

  His dad showered and shaved every day, even though his job didn’t require him to be neatly groomed. He had also lost a few pounds and looked healthier than he had in years.

  There was a rap on Lonnie’s bedroom door. “Hey, buddy. You up?”

  “Yeah, I’m just about ready.”

  “The preacher said he wants us at the church by eight.”

  “I know. I’ll be out in a minute.”

  Lonnie finished making his bed. He picked up his watch, cell phone and wallet from his desk. As he did, he looked down at his book report sitting on top. He had gotten an A on it. The book, a horror story titled Mrs. Leigon’s Grave, was one of the most enjoyable books he had read in a long time. A few more A’s in Progressive Reading and maybe next year, he could be placed in an advance reading class with Axel.

  Lonnie decided he would never be great at math or science. But the B’s and occasional C’s he had been making in those classes weren’t too bad, either.

  He pulled back his curtain and looked out. Frost had formed outside his window. Thirty-six degrees was predicted to be the high for the day, but he would guess the current temperature was no more than twenty-five. Perfect weather for sleeping in, but he couldn’t do that. They had things to do.

  The night before, Lonnie and the kids in his Sunday school class had bagged up three hundred fifty-seven hygiene kits. Brother Elrod told them to meet at church the next morning before they headed out to the Helping Hand to distribute them.

  “I fixed you some chorizo and egg taquitos,” Lonnie’s dad said when Lonnie walked into the kitchen. “It’s gonna be a long day, so I want you to eat before we leave.”

  “Thanks, Dad.”

  “You might need to heat them up,” he said.

  Lonnie bit into one. “They’re fine.�
�� He took the orange juice carton from the fridge and poured himself a glass. Then he joined his dad at the table.

  “I guess it’s gonna feel kinda weird for you to go back to the shelter, huh?” his dad said.

  “Yeah, but maybe a lot of the people who were there with us will be gone. What I mean is, hopefully they found jobs and a better place to live.”

  “I wish that was true, buddy,” his dad said. “But the fact is, we were lucky, plain and simple. Some of those people who stay there, they’ve given up. I see them when I go to my meetings. They don’t think about things getting better. They’re like zombies, going nowhere.”

  “I know that giving homeless people a little bag of toiletries isn’t a whole lot,” Lonnie said. “But at least we can show them that somebody cares about them.”

  “I wish your mom could see you right now,” his dad said. “She’d be so proud of the man you’re turning out to be. I know I am.”

  “I think she’d be proud of the both of us,” Lonnie said.

  After breakfast, they drove to the church. Jo Marie and her parents had already arrived. So had Mr. and Mrs. Finley, Ms. Reese and a number of other kids and their parents. They loaded up the church van with boxes of hygiene kits. Before leaving, Brother Elrod explained the importance of their mission. He said they were going to the shelter to help and not to be critical of the people they saw.

  “As it says in Matthew, chapter seven, ‘Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.”

  “Amen,” Lonnie’s dad said.

  From there, they headed to the Helping Hand. Lonnie and his dad rode in the van because they needed to guide Mr. Bullock, the driver, where to park once they arrived.

  Some of the kids grew nervous when they saw the large groups of men lounging outside the shelter.

  Nathan Fambro turned to Lonnie and said, “Man, this place sucks.”

  “I know. Trust me, Nathan, I know. But like Brother Elrod said, we’re not here to judge.”

  Mr. Marriott met them at the entrance. Lonnie was happy to see that Mr. Treviño and his wife were with him. They all gathered in the cafeteria, where Mr. Marriott went over the procedure for distributing the kits. The boxes were placed on the top of six long tables, and helpers were assigned to each section. Brother Elrod led the group in a prayer, and then the clients were called in.