The Christmas Promise(15)

“Yeah, but it’s not a word a little kid should say.”

“Why not?” Donovan asked.

“Ask your mom.”

“Why?”

This was going nowhere, and Chaz wanted more to drink than the two beers he had in his cup. “Forget it,” Chaz said. He walked to the lockers and pulled out a blanket and pillow. “Why don’t you lie down while your mom finishes up?”

Donovan hopped up on the desk. “I’m thirsty. I need some Coke,” he said, snatching up the drink. Chaz lunged for it, but Donovan took a long sip and stuck out his tongue. “Gross. What is that?”

Chaz snatched up the drink. “It’s nothing. Drink some water.”

“I want Coke.”

“A little kid shouldn’t have Coke at midnight,” Chaz said. “Even I know that.” Chaz held the cup behind his back. “Do you want water?” Donovan shook his head. “All right, lie down there and I’ll tell your mom you’re in here.” Donovan lay down and looked up at Chaz. “Do you know where you’re at? You’re in the security office, and if you get up off this couch every alarm in the building will ring. All I have to do is set the sequence into this superelectro pad.” He pretended to punch numbers into a calculator on the desk, and Donovan lifted his head. “Nuh-uh. Just lie back down. I’ve got the numbers sequenced already. The alarms sound according to your body weight.” Donovan looked puzzled and pulled the blanket up to his chin. Chaz turned off the light, leaving the one in the bathroom on. He stepped outside the office, waited a few minutes for movement, but there wasn’t any. Donovan had fallen asleep. Chaz motioned to Donovan’s mother, indicating that he was sleeping, and she nodded, continuing to vacuum. “Can’t wait to work with you every night,” he whispered to himself.





At one o’clock Donovan’s mother came looking for him in the security office. “I can carry him to your car,” Chaz said. “I’m Chaz. What’s your name, by the way?” She looked him over without answering, and that angered him. “I just watched your kid for you. I think I should know your name.”

“Carla,” she snapped, flinging open the office door. Chaz picked Donovan up and his little arms dangled over his shoulders. Carla opened the back door to a Chevy Cavalier. “Does he have a special seat or something?” Chaz whispered. She shook her head and he sat Donovan in the backseat, wrapping a seat belt around him. His head wobbled and his eyes opened. “Go back to sleep,” Chaz said.

“Good night, Spaz.”

Chaz got his foot out of the way before Carla drove away. “You’re welcome,” he said, shouting at the back of the car.

He finished his rounds, and just before two A.M. did the final lockdown. He changed back into his jeans and sweatshirt and left his uniform in the locker before pulling a hat down over his ears for the walk home. He walked through the town square; it was fully decorated for Christmas, including the three fir trees that lit up the night. Just past the square, in front of the library, he noticed a man sleeping on a bench with his arms wrapped around himself. Chaz stopped when he recognized him as Mike, the young homeless man he’d met in front of Wilson’s. He wondered how he could sleep out in the cold, and stood watching him for the longest time. He shook his head and walked toward his apartment. He was freezing.

The air stabbed at his lungs and he coughed when he breathed in. He walked past a row of houses that were still dark at this time of early morning, but stopped when he saw a woman holding a small child in front of an upstairs window. A man laid his hand on the boy’s back and leaned in to kiss his forehead. Chaz remembered his own father getting up in the middle of the night when he was sick as a boy. He couldn’t do much more than his mother was already doing, but he was there patting Chaz’s back and telling bad jokes. Nausea rose to his throat and he hurried down the street.

He collapsed onto the futon and opened a can of beer. The Christmas lights from across the street lit up the apartment. Why didn’t those people turn them off when they went to bed like everybody else? He drew the blinds but the lights bored their way through the cracks. He hated those lights and the people who owned the house. He hated his apartment and the fact that nothing—nothing—ever changed in his life. It just took place in a different town with a different job and different women. He thought about that, and also about Donovan, and Mike sleeping on the bench, and drank till he passed out.





Five



Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around.