Chapter 69 Part 69
Maggie
Weeks passed without incident. The poacher didn’t return, but the cameras caught footage of a beautiful gray wolf standing in the treeline. He never ventured any closer. Asher stared at that image for a very long time.
Asher still had nightmares, and probably would for the rest of his life, but the anguish and screams from before were gone. Now he would wake up, gasping for air, and usually he was asleep again within half an hour.
Maggie could also see a difference in the boys. They changed into hardworking young men, helping out around the ranch, and as spring drew closer, Asher was called in for a parent-teacher meeting.
“You ready to go?” Asher asked her.
“Go where?” Maggie frowned, as she dried her hands on a dishcloth.
“I told you about the meeting at the school.”
“Oh, I didn’t think I had to go with you,” she said.
“Maggie, we’re a unit. We’re getting married in a few weeks. We do things together.”
“You’re right,” she said, smiling. “Let’s go.”
Asher grinned as they got in the truck, and drove to the school. Maggie glanced at him, then put her hand on his thigh. “Are you worried?”
“I don’t know. I mean, they’ve changed so much, but people still have triggers. Something might have happened, or someone might have said something. Oscar is the calm one, but Finn was right—Joel has fire in his soul.”
“Then we handle it,” Maggie said, and Asher smiled at her.
“Yeah, we’ll handle it, whatever it is.”
Asher parked the truck in the school parking lot, and walked around to open Maggie’s door. They walked into the school holding hands, as Asher headed straight to the teacher’s classroom.
“Hey, Asher, thanks for dropping by,” he said, and shook Asher’s hand.
“You said you wanted to talk about the boys, Mr. Jackson,” Asher said. “Oh, and this is Maggie.”
“Nice to meet you,” he said, and shook her hand as well.
“Thank you. Is there a problem with Joel and Oscar?”
Mr. Jackson shuffled to his desk, and picked up a notebook. “I had my class write a short essay about any topic. Oscar’s essay caught my eye, and I thought you might want to see it. As for their progress, Oscar is one of my top students, now that he’s actually coming to school. Joel has improved a lot, and there are no complaints.”
“Okay,” Asher said, and took the book from him.
‘In the blink of an eye
by Oscar Crowley
Moments in life are a series of ‘blinking your eyes,’ and the moment is gone. During the bad times, the blinking moves in slow motion, and in the good times, you sometimes miss the blink.
I once had a green balloon, and my mother laughed as she blew it up for me. I had just turned 5, and it was the best day of my life. We never had much money, but Momma baked a cake, and she sang ‘Happy Birthday’ to me with Joel. He ruffled my hair and said I was the best little brother anyone could have.
The blink happened so fast, I didn’t realize the world had shifted. Momma was dead, and we were all alone. The days turned darker, and there were no more birthday cakes, no more good morning hugs, or hair ruffles.
Instead, our dad taught us how not to cry when his fist smashed into our faces; he taught us how not to speak to people. He taught us that people didn’t care, because nobody noticed the marks, and nobody asked what happened.
He taught us that nothing we ever did was good enough, that aggression was better than trying to be good. Joel was wrong. I wasn’t the best little brother, but he was the best big brother. He shielded me with his own body, taking most of the punches meant for me. He did odd jobs to make sure I ate at night, and he never let anybody pick on me.
Another blink happened, this time in slow motion. Asher Fitzgerald came to our house. We had done something bad, but he took one look at us, and his fist taught our dad some manners.
He made us pack our bags and took us away. At first, I was scared. What did he want from us, and how bad was he going to treat us for what we’d done to someone he cared about?
That moment never came. He gave us a roof over our heads and food in our bellies three times a day. He demanded respect, not through anger or harsh words, but by simply being him.
He showed us that there was a better way; he gave us a family, a sense of belonging, and he gave us a mother. Maggie is warm, how I imagine my own mother might have been, if she had lived. She gives us hugs, helps us with our homework, and she never yells.
Our little sister, Melody, is pure sunshine, the cutest little girl you’ll have the honor of knowing. She accepts us as we are, giggles, and smiles when she sees us.
I’m afraid of the next blink, when I finish school. I don’t want to lose my family, the new one I have now. I know I’m a Crowley, but in my heart, I wish I was a Fitzgerald. Men of honor and compassion, men who do the right thing. If I could have one wish, it would be to be one of them. Being a Fitzgerald means being a good man, a man with morals and truth; it means acceptance, and it means there is no fear of that blink ever happening again.’
Maggie saw the emotional look in Asher’s eyes and took the book he held out to her. She read through the essay, but she had to blink the tears away as she kept reading.
“We might not have noticed how bad things were at their house, but we sure as hell are noticing the improvement since they’ve been living with you two. It’s remarkable, really, I thought there was no hope for them.”
“There’s always hope if you care enough,” Maggie said.