Her Kind Of Hero. Janice Carter

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СКАЧАТЬ either. He glanced down at his cell phone. His mother had promised to let him know as soon as she and Rosie, Matt’s sister, left the hospital. The appointment was more than an hour ago so they should be finished by now. He wished that he’d been more insistent on going with them.

      “No, Mati,” his mother, Esperanza, had said, patting his forearm. “Rosie and I can manage just fine. We’re taking a cab.”

      She was too proud. Matt could relate—pride had always been one of his greatest flaws. He’d choked on it far too many times in his life. At least, he had after that day. Before then, pride had been a badge of honor. It had governed much of his life, propelling him to words and actions he regretted years later. But after that day, his pride had been slowly whittled away. First, with the army in Iraq and then struggling through college for his youth worker diploma. The years working for various nonprofit community groups before establishing KidsFirst and lastly, Camp Hope, were even more humbling. All of which was a good thing. Too much pride was definitely counterproductive. His post-teenage incarnation had taught him that and he’d devoted many hours since his teens—and that day—ridding his mind of it.

      But he wished now he’d gone with his family. Esperanza was getting the diagnosis from the gamut of tests she’d endured and Rosie was there to provide support, though Matt knew their roles would be reversed. Navigating with canes, as Rosie was doing at the moment because she was out of remission, was challenging. It would be his mother helping Matt’s younger sister.

      The cell phone screen lit up. Matt grabbed it, reading the first few lines of the banner. All finished now. Tired and on our way home. Not to worry.

      He tapped in his mother’s number, but the call went to her voice mail. Perhaps she was helping Rosie into the taxi. Or maybe they were in it and on the way home. Esperanza had funny ideas about using cell phones in public. I’m not having people listen in on my private phone conversations, she always insisted.

       Then text, Mama.

      She’d waved a hand. Too much trouble. All those little buttons. And on it went, their endless debate that always made Rosie laugh and Matt raise his shoulders in exasperation.

      Matt tried again, getting through this time. There was a muffled hello, followed by a blast of static which he assumed came from Esperanza’s hand over the phone as she told Rosie—and likely the cabbie, too—that it was Mati on the line. Finally, his mother said, “We’re almost home, Mati.”

      “How did it go? What did the doctor say?”

      The silence told him more than Esperanza did. “We’ll talk about it later. Come for dinner. I made posole this morning.”

      She didn’t need to dangle his favorite soup to get him home for a meal this time. Whatever news she had was best heard face-to-face.

      “Okay, Ma, I’ll see you later. Take care.” Matt placed the phone on his desk and turned to stare out the window. The trees would eventually be in leaf, blocking his view of the lake. Spring was on its way in mid-April and with it, the second year of Camp Hope. He’d named it after his mother, because in spite of all the troubles in Esperanza’s life, she never lost hope for better times. Matt’s father died when Matt was eleven and Esperanza was pregnant with Rosie. In the years after that, Rosie was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis and Matt had a teenage flirtation with crime. Now Matt prayed his mother had enough hope left in her for whatever she and the family were about to face.

      There was another knock on the door. “Come in,” Matt said. Sandro peeked around the door and Matt sighed, “Look, I didn’t mean to snap earlier.”

      “Yeah, sure, forget about it.” Sandro came into the office.

      Matt doubted Sandro had gained more than an inch or even a pound since tenth grade but the shoulder-length hair was gone, exchanged for the shaved look, and the small goatee certainly hadn’t been around when the two had been teenagers growing up on the South Side. Sandro’s tentative nature was the same though, and his tendency was to let Matt take the lead. In spite of Matt’s efforts to inspire more independence in his best friend—brothers in all but blood as they’d always boasted—Sandro seemed content to let Matt guide the way. And Matt had to admit, maybe that hadn’t been such a bad thing. Sandro had followed his lead, moving away from the gang they’d almost joined and instead signing up for the army with him.

      “My mom got her test results today.”

      “Oh man. And?”

      “Don’t know yet. She wouldn’t tell me over the phone.”

      “That doesn’t sound good.”

      “They’re on their way home now. I was thinking of packing it in for the day.”

      “Do it. Maria’s already left. She’s picking up the printer on her way home.”

      “Okay. How much did you authorize?”

      “A hundred. We can always reimburse any extra.”

      “Okay. Great. So, are you on your way, too?”

      “Uh, soon. Got some emails to send out. You know, replies to some of our queries about the project. Also, I have to meet the drywallers tomorrow at nine for the new sleep cabin. And you’re supposed to go over next month’s schedule with Kristen at the center.”

      “Right. Did the electrical get done today?”

      “Just about. He’s finishing up tomorrow.”

      Matt thought for a minute, his mind still spinning from the phone call. “Okay. I’ll email Kristen to confirm our meeting, unless there’s a problem...you know...with my mom.”

      “Hey, don’t get ahead of yourself. One step at a time.”

      “You’re right. Thanks for that, buddy.” Sandro had always been good at calming him down.

      After Sandro left, Matt checked his email again to see if there’d been any word about his request to give a presentation about the camp at a Willow Springs town council meeting. His KidsFirst organization had a one-year lease from the council for the site at Maple Lake, with the understanding that the lease would be extended. The council had even given permission to renovate the existing sleeping cabin and build another—projects funded by KidsFirst.

      Last year Camp Hope had been only a day camp. That worked, since it was a half-hour-or-so bus ride from Chicago. But the kids had loved it so much, and Matt had heard from a lot of them that they’d like to stay. Matt understood perfectly. Some of them were returning to extreme situations and almost all of them had begun to feel the positive effects of the country, the social bonding that came in a setting of trees, water and birds. It was a simple but vital formula for healing and inspiring.

      Except he’d just received notice from the council that the lease renewal was being reviewed. That left their new year up in the air, not to mention the money they’d already spent with the understanding that the renewal was a given. Matt sighed, rubbing his fingers through the new crop of hair. He had to stay positive, for the sake of his staff as well as the kids. He refreshed his inbox again, hoping for a message he knew hadn’t yet arrived. Everything in the community service sector moved at a snail’s pace.

      But there was still time. Camp Hope wasn’t scheduled to start until school let out but Matt was hoping they could bus kids to the camp СКАЧАТЬ