“When would you want to come in, Blue?” Julio asked him directly.
“I don’t,” he said bluntly, to the point of rude.
“That’s too bad. We have a bed for you right now, but we won’t for long. We get pretty full.” There was also a subway nearby that would get him to his school in minutes. And as Julio and Ginny talked about the facility, Blue drifted away. A moment later she noticed that someone had put some classical piano music on, which seemed a little ambitious to her. She paid no attention until Julio stopped talking and stared at something behind her. She turned to see what it was, and her mouth nearly fell open when she saw that it was Blue playing the piano, with an intense look on his face. As they watched him, he switched to jazz and continued playing. He paid no attention to them, and was intent and in another world as he played.
“That’s quite a talent,” Julio said to her softly, as she continued to stare. Blue had never said that he played the piano. Nor had his aunt. He had simply said he liked music, but he was masterful at the keyboard. Some of the residents stopped and listened, too, and several people applauded when he finished, closed the piano, an old upright, and walked back to where Julio and Ginny were standing. He looked unimpressed by what he had just done, unlike everyone who had heard him play.
“So when do I have to move in?” he said to Ginny.
“You don’t,” Julio interjected. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. This isn’t jail. It’s home to a lot of kids like you who want to be here, but everyone is here by choice. We don’t take assignments from the courts.” They had room for four hundred and forty residents on any given day or night, and most of the time they were at capacity.
“When are you leaving?” Blue asked Ginny with a miserable expression.
“In ten days. You should probably move in next week before I leave, so I know how you’re doing for a few days. We can still see each other once you’re here.” She tried to sound encouraging, but he looked desperately unhappy.
“Okay, I’ll come next week,” he said with a blank look. He seemed totally without emotion. They thanked Julio then and left, after confirming a bed there for Blue the following week, and the moment they left the building, Ginny looked at him in amazement.
“You never told me you play the piano,” she said, still stunned by how well he had played. It was masterful, he had an extraordinary gift, and she couldn’t imagine how or where he’d learned.
“I don’t. I just fool around,” he said with a shrug.
“That’s not fooling around, Blue. That’s real talent. Can you read music?” He was full of surprises.
“Sort of. I taught myself. I just kind of do it.”
“Well, you ‘just kind of do it’ extremely well. You knocked me and everyone else on our asses.” He smiled at that then. And she didn’t ask him how he liked the place—she could tell. And there was no point making an issue of it since he had agreed to go. But what she had just heard from him on the piano had seriously caught her attention. He had a talent that couldn’t be ignored, even more so if he’d taught himself. He was a boy of many facets, as she was only just beginning to discover. “Where did you learn to play?” she asked him on the subway back uptown.
“There was a piano in the basement of the church my aunt goes to. The priest there used to let me play.” His face tightened as he said it, and she saw a strange look come into his eyes. “He was a jerk, though, so I stopped. I just play now whenever I see a piano. Sometimes I go into music stores, until they throw me out.” She wondered why his aunt hadn’t said anything to her about it—it certainly was worth mentioning. Blue explained her silence on the subject a moment later when he said, “She doesn’t know.”
“Why didn’t you ever tell her that you play like that? She never heard you?”
“The priest said he’d get in trouble if anyone knew he let me play there, so we had to keep it a secret. I did.” And then he added a moment later, “My mama used to sing in a choir, and play the organ at church. I sat next to her sometimes during the services, but she never taught me to play. I just watched. I guess I could probably play the organ, too.” Ginny realized that she must have been a talented woman if she had a son with a musical gift like that.
And that night after dinner, she had an idea that came to her and she shared with Blue. “What if you apply to a music and art school for high school next fall? LaGuardia Arts is a public school. I could check it out if you want.”
“Why would they take me?” he said glumly. He was still depressed about the shelter he was moving into, although it didn’t look bad to her.
“Because you have enormous talent,” she reassured him. “Do you know how rare it is to teach yourself to play like that?” He had bowled her over.
“I play the guitar, too,” he said vaguely, and she laughed.
“Any other abilities you’re hiding from me, Blue Williams?”
“No, that’s it,” he said, looking like a kid again. “But I’ll bet I could learn to play drums. I’ve never tried, but I’d really like to.” She grinned, and he cheered up as the evening wore on. He gave her a neat list of the money she owed him for the odd jobs he’d done for her. He’d kept careful track. She paid him, and he was very pleased. Most of all she could feel how sad he was that she was leaving, and how worried he was about her. “What if you never come back?” he asked her, panicked.
“I will,” she said quietly. “Trust me. I’ve never gotten hurt, and I always come back.” She had reassured him before, but he was still worried. In his world, you lost people forever.
“You’d better come back,” he said with a dark look, and she hugged him before he went to bed that night. There were times when he really seemed like a child to her, and at others he was streetwise way beyond his years. He had seen too much at his age.
—
The time for him to move into Houston Street came too soon for both of them. The day before he left, he bought her flowers with his own money at the grocery store. Ginny helped him move with a heavy heart, but she knew it was the right thing for him. Still, for the first time, she was sad to leave New York for an assignment. Until then she had always been happy to go.
Blue was very quiet on the ride downtown in the cab. She had gotten him a few things, some T-shirts and new jeans, as well as his school supplies, and a bag to carry them in. And he looked bereft as he walked up the steps. And she stunned him totally when she left him in his dorm room. She gave him a laptop as a gift, and his eyes nearly fell out of his head when he saw it.
“You’d better write to me and stay in touch,” she said seriously. “I want to know that you’re okay.” He nodded, speechless for a moment, and threw his arms around her neck and hugged her, and she could see that there were tears in his eyes. No one had ever done anything like that for him, but she had wanted to. It was an important tool for him. And she had no one to spoil anymore. She promised to visit him that weekend before she left, and they were going to go out for dinner together.
But when she saw him on that last day, he looked miserable. They had missed each other’s company all week, and had Skyped several times, which he loved, and she enjoyed it, too. But losing someone, even for a few months, was all too familiar to him, and no amount of reassurance could convince him that she was coming back. He was too scarred by his earlier losses, and his mother’s death at five, to have faith that he’d see Ginny again. Everyone had abandoned him till then. His mother and father by death, and his aunt by choice.
She hugged him tight when she left him on the front steps of Houston Street on Sunday night, and she went home to finish packing her bags. She was leaving for Kabul in the morning, and she promised to e-mail him whenever she could. In the farthest outposts she often didn’t have Internet access, but when she traveled to less remote areas, she did. She said she’d stay in touch with him, and two agonizing tears rolled down his cheeks when she left. She cried on the subway all the way uptown.
Becky called he
r that night to say goodbye, and had a knack for saying all the wrong things. Ginny’s heart already ached after saying goodbye to Blue. The time they had spent together and the relationship they had formed so unexpectedly had been a rare gift to both of them, and Ginny was intending to continue it when she got back. And she’d been researching LaGuardia Arts high school for him, and wanted to convince him to apply when she got back.
She’d called the school and they had told her that students applied in fall and winter for the following year, and auditioned in November and December, and he was already two months past when final applications were due. Acceptances were being mailed that month. She had explained his unusual circumstances and been told that a special review of his situation might be possible, as a hardship case, particularly if he was as gifted as she said. They promised to explore the possibility of making an exception for him, while she was away, and would be in touch. She didn’t want to disappoint Blue, so she hadn’t told him yet.
“Thank God you finally got that kid out of your house,” Becky said when Ginny told her he was at a youth shelter. “I thought you’d never get rid of him. You’re lucky he didn’t kill you.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Ginny answered, in an irritated tone that masked her sorrow at saying goodbye to him hours before. She had her own issues about losing people, too.
“No, you have to stop doing crazy things like that. One of these days, someone will do you in, and no one will be surprised. And you didn’t come out to visit Dad,” she said with obvious reproach in her voice.
“I’ll come out next time, I promise,” Ginny said unhappily, her guard down for a minute, despite her sister’s acerbic comments. “It’s just hard for me.”
“It’s harder taking care of him,” Becky said bluntly, “and he’s getting worse. Next time might be too late—he may not recognize you at all. Sometimes he doesn’t recognize me, and he sees me every day. He got lost again this week, and went out with no clothes on yesterday after his bath. I can’t do this forever, Gin. We have to figure something else out soon. It’s hard on Alan and the kids.” What she said was true and made Ginny feel guiltier than ever for not helping her.
“We’ll talk about it when I get back.”
“When? In three months? Are you kidding? He goes downhill faster and faster every day. And you’re going to feel like shit if he dies before you come home.” Her sister’s words hit Ginny like a punch in the stomach.
“Let’s hope he doesn’t,” Ginny said miserably, feeling like the worst daughter and sister on the planet. She already felt like the worst wife and mother, for having allowed Mark to drive them when he’d had too much to drink and she hadn’t seen it. And now she might miss her chance to say goodbye to her dad. But she could only withstand so much loss. She was a little bit like Blue that way, after losing Chris and Mark.
“Well, I hope that’s the last of that homeless kid at least. That’s one headache you don’t need.” Ginny said nothing, Becky had said more than enough. She was depressed when she got off the phone, and already missed Blue. She hoped he’d be all right while she was away. She had done the best she could, getting him back into school, and living at Houston Street. It was up to him now to stick with it, and hang in until she got back. And then they could think about his future and high school in the fall.
She hardly slept that night, thinking about him, and he Skyped her the next morning before she left. He looked as sad as she did and thanked her for the fantastic laptop again. He was sleeping with it under his pillow, and even one night between his legs, so no one could take it from him. It was never out of his sight or his hands, even in school.
“I’ll see you soon, Blue,” she said gently as they looked at each other on the screen.
“Just make sure you come back!” he said, scowling at her, and then slowly he smiled. It was a smile she knew she would remember every moment that she was away. And then as she looked at him, without another word, he pressed the button to disconnect Skype, and he was gone.
Chapter 6
As often was the case to reach the places where she was assigned, Ginny flew from New York to London, and had a layover there. She hated the massive size and chaos of Heathrow, but knew it well. And she Skyped Blue while she waited. He was on a break at school, so they talked for a few minutes, and after that she dozed in a chair for several hours, and then caught the flight to Kabul. She slept for most of the trip and then took another plane to Jalalabad in eastern Afghanistan where an SOS/HR worker would pick her up to drive her through the Hindu Kush, through the town of Asadabad on the border of Pakistan, to a village along the Kunar River, where the camp was located.
Conditions were more rigorous at this camp than she remembered. For five years, they had functioned without the help of Doctors Without Borders, but they had started working there again, so they had good medical assistance, but the camp was more crowded than when she’d been there before. They had limited supplies, no comforts whatsoever, and, trying to meet everyone’s needs, the atmosphere of the camp was stressful for the workers. But SOS/HR functioned as efficiently as it could in what was essentially a war zone, and had been for over thirty years.
Ginny’s driver was a young worker in his early twenties, who was doing his master’s thesis on the camp she’d been assigned to. His name was Phillip, and he had been studying at Princeton, and was full of innovative new theories and naïve ideals about what they should be doing there and weren’t. She listened patiently while he talked to her about it, but she had far more experience than he did, and was more realistic about what they could achieve. She didn’t want to discourage him but knew that most of what he was suggesting was twenty years away, if that. The situation in Afghanistan was intense, and had been for many years. Women were subjected to appalling abuses, and one in ten children died.
Ginny could hear gunfire in the distance as they approached the camp. Her driver told her that the camps in Jalalabad itself were even worse than here. There were more than forty camps in the city, mostly made up of mud huts and shanties, where people were dying from lack of food. Children seemed to be the hardest hit, and many families had gone there to escape the fighting in the provinces, only to die from lack of food and irregular medical care at the refugee camps in the city. It was hard to know which was worse.
After nearly three years in the field, Ginny knew that sometimes it was just about helping the locals survive the hardships that they faced, not teaching them a new way of life or changing the world. She was used to dealing with women who’d been severely wounded, children who had lost limbs or were dying of terrible diseases, or of simple ailments they had no medicines for. And sometimes their clients died just from having been through too much. Her work was about supporting them in whatever way she could, and doing what was needed.
As Ginny stepped out of the truck, she felt an enormous wave of relief wash over her. Being here, in a place like this, where nothing mattered except human life and the simplest of survival skills, brought everything down to the value of human dignity and life. And everything else that she had been through disappeared the moment she arrived. She felt needed and useful and could at least try to make a difference in these people’s lives, even if the results would be less than they hoped for.
There were children wandering through the camp in barely more than rags, in plastic sandals or bare feet, despite the freezing cold, and women wore burqas. She had put one on herself the moment the plane landed in Jalalabad, so as not to offend anyone or cause a problem at the camp. She had lived and worked in burqas and with her head covered before. She had thought about Blue several times on the long flights, but faced with what she had to do here, he was all but forgotten. She had done what she could for him, but she had more important work to do now, and she needed her wits about her to focus on her job. The country was in a constant state of civil war. And she knew from Phillip that many of the insurgents were living in caves nearby, which didn’t surprise her, eith
er.
There was a medical station at the edge of the camp, and wounded civilians were frequently brought there. A shocking number of them died, too badly injured by the time they were brought in, and often with festering wounds that had received little or no medical treatment until then. Everything was as basic and rudimentary as it could get. Their supplies were brought in by helicopter once a month, and they had to make do with what they’d been given until the next drop. Doctors Without Borders came regularly to tend to the more seriously ill, and the rest of the time, the workers did the best they could with the materials at hand.
Ginny and Phillip were among the few nonmedical personnel in the camp. And in the past, on similar assignments, Ginny had been brought into the operating tent to hold bowls filled with evil dressings and bloody rags. You had to have a strong stomach to work there, and a strong back to do heavy work, often helping to unload trucks full of supplies and equipment, and above all you had to have a willing spirit and a loving heart. She couldn’t change their living conditions, or the state of the country, but she could make them a little bit more comfortable in some way, and give them solace and hope. By being willing to live with them in the camp, and experience the same dangers, she told them through her actions how important they were to her.
Two little girls holding hands stared at her, then smiled as she walked across the camp to the main tent. Most of their equipment and supplies were old military surplus, but were functional and served them well. She was wearing heavy army surplus gear and rugged boots with a man’s parka, and it was freezing, and had been snowing earlier that day. She was wearing the burqa over her heavy clothes, and whenever she removed it, she had an armband that identified her as a human rights worker, with SOS/HR’s logo printed across it, and there were two men in the camp wearing the armband of the Red Cross. SOS/HR worked closely with them.
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