The Christmas Campaign

“We always have a problem, Sarah,” he responded.

“Well, you know that recent storm damage we had, it’s more extensive than I first thought. And we have the state inspector coming next Monday. I’m afraid we won’t be ready in time. I’ve put the word out for volunteers this Saturday, but—”

“Just hold on, I’ll be there in five minutes. We’ll figure out something.”

That was another good thing about Cedar Grove. A person could go anywhere in town in less than ten minutes. Sarah met him at his car. “I don’t see how they can expect us to get all this done in seven days.”

“Did you call them and explain?”

“I tried to, but they wouldn’t budge.”

He took the list of repairs from her hand and scanned it. Whoa. The roof needed repairing, windows needed to be unstuck, shutters replaced or repaired, leaves were too close to the foundation, holes needed to be filled in the yard, receptacles...the list went on. No way could they get all this done without hiring a crew, and that they didn’t have money for.

“Have you contacted Mr. Davis?” Davis was a handyman the center used for repairs.

“He’s in the hospital with a broken leg—he fell off a roof. I’ve called a few other contractors, but with this warm weather they’re all busy trying to beat the rain predicted for this weekend.”

“Show me what needs to be done inside.”

He followed her through the back door into the kitchen where Tyler Bennett sat at the table. Peter had almost forgotten the trouble the boy had gotten into. “Hey, Tyler. Did something happen at school today?”

The teenager brushed a mop of brown hair away from his forehead, revealing defiant blue eyes.

Sarah folded her arms. “He’s suspended for three days.”

Peter struggled to keep disappointment from his voice. “What was it this time, Tyler?” Even though he knew the answer, he wanted to hear the boy’s side.

Tyler’s mouth twitched. “Nothin’ important.”

Sarah said, “Nothing important? He—”

Peter put his hand on her arm. “Let him tell me what he did,” he said gently.

The hand the teenager had been dealt the past few years was one most adults would want to walk away from, and Peter hurt for the teenager. But the kid had his whole life ahead of him, and in this particular circumstance, having him own up to what he did was the only way Peter knew to help him.

Tyler drew circles on the paper in front of him. Peter waited. When the boy looked up, Peter raised his eyebrows, but said nothing.

Tyler huffed. “I unscrewed the top of the pepper shaker at the teachers’ table. One of the basketball players ratted me out. Shoot, Coach Dawson doesn’t even taste his food before he grabs the salt and pepper.”

Peter clamped his jaw to keep from grinning. “Why?”

The teen looked down. Finally, he lifted a shoulder in a half shrug. “Coach wouldn’t let me even try out for the team. Said I should’ve come three months ago with everybody else. Not my fault I wasn’t here, yet.”

“Did you tell him that?”

He shook his head. “He’s the coach, he ought to know.”

“Well, he might not,” said Peter. “So, you don’t see anything wrong with what you did?”

The teenager averted his gaze. Again the half shrug. “Maybe it was a dumb thing to do.”

“Maybe?”

“All right. It was a dumb thing to do, and I won’t do it again.”

“That’s better. Have you written the coach an apology?”

Tyler slid an envelope from the papers on the table. “Along with five pages of ‘I won’t unscrew the top of the pepper shaker again.’”

Peter took out the paper and looked over the apology.

I’m sorry I unscrewed the pepper shaker and ruined your lunch. It won’t happen again.

Tyler Bennett

“You’ll give it to him tomorrow?”

“I can’t go back to school until Thursday.”

Maybe Peter could do something about that. “Okay.”

He turned to Sarah. “Show me what needs fixing.”

They walked into the living room first, and she pointed out the light switches and receptacles that needed replacing. “Like I said, I put out a call for some volunteers this Saturday. The warm weather is supposed to hold until late afternoon before it rains and turns cold. If enough people show up, maybe we can knock out every bit of this.”

Peter looked at the list again. He could replace the receptacles, but it’d probably be faster to hire an electrician. Everything else could be done by the volunteers. “You’re a genius. How many people did you contact?”

“I started with our regular volunteers, and a couple of people I know from church.”

“Good. I’ll see if I can find an electrician for the wiring.”

She tilted her head toward the kitchen. “Do you have time to shoot a few baskets with Tyler? You can turn the floodlights on.”

A mound of paperwork waited for him back at his office, not to mention he’d like to read his grandfather’s letter. But those things could wait. If there was a chance that shooting a few baskets with the teenager might soften those stony blue eyes, he’d give it a try. “Sure.” He turned and raised his voice. “Hey, Tyler, do you have time to shoot a few baskets?”

“Are you kidding? Sure.”

The boy was waiting with his basketball by the back door when Peter walked into the kitchen. “You sure you can play basketball?” Tyler looked skeptical.

“Our team won the state championship when I was a senior.”

“But did you play?”

“I was cocaptain.” Matthew Jefferies was the other cocaptain. “Still want to take me on for a game of HORSE?”

“Sure. You can even go first,” Tyler said.

“That sure of yourself, huh?”