Secret Grandpa
by Rob Warr
Chapter 1
I retired early, having been very frugal and making wise investments, and at 50 I was set for life, as they say. My wife of 20 years had died, and with no children and little family left in the town we'd lived in I decided to make a new start some 200 miles away. New City, new life.
I found a nice three bedroom single story brick in a nice neighborhood with plenty of mature trees, sidewalks, a park nearby, and jogging trails ran all through the neighborhood.
There was an elementary school two blocks up the street from me, and each day a parade of kids made their way past my house to school and home again in the afternoon. At the risk of sounding creepy I'd taken to sitting on the front porch around that time in the afternoon and watching the kids go by.
I loved kids, and my only regret in life is that my wife and I did not adopt after we learned she was barren. We could have given the kids so much and I think we both would have been happier with kids in the house. But my wife seemed content with our life and I never pressed the issue.
Now, at 50 I wished more than ever that we'd had kids and grandkids, so I guess watching over the parade of kids each afternoon was just a way of fulfilling a fantasy. I had no other intentions other than to admire the kids and to keep a watchful eye on them should someone come along with nefarious intentions.
As the school year progressed I'd begun to recognize the kids, even if I didn't know their names, and by observing their behavior I felt like I knew them a little better each time I saw them.
Over time I became quite friendly with my neighbors as well, and discovered that several of them had kids that attended the school. Michael and Michelle, ten-year-old twins lived two houses down and Freddie, age 9, lived just across the street from me. Both sets of parents were young, but pleasant, and the kids were very sweet. Through these families I met other parents, even attending school functions at their invitation and in turn getting to know a broader range of parents and kids.
I now knew the names of many of the kids who passed by my house each day, and those kids nearly always called a cheery hello or waved. I waved back, the kid parade being the highlight of each day.
One day in late November, just after Thanksgiving, I was sitting on my porch and drinking iced tea when the first kids appeared from up the street. It was unseasonably warm, temps in the 50s and some of the kids were carrying their jackets or hoodies, some having just the hood on their head as their jacket trailed behind them like a super hero's cape.
Today, however, there was a newcomer. A dark haired, dark eyed boy of about ten or so, and looking harried and a bit scattered. He kept looking behind him as if someone might be following him and I immediately went on full alert.
His clothes looked rumpled and dirty, though that was just an impression I got, from a distance, it would prove to be true. I only had to wait a moment to find out why the boy had been looking so apprehensive, for a moment later two boys came running up and took a position on either side of him and prevented him from going any further.
They were directly in front of my house now and I recognized the two new boys as Dale and Henry, two 11-year-olds who were often in trouble at school and at home. Not bad boys, really, just feisty and prone to get into mischief.
My mailbox sat at the curb, and on the pretense of checking the mail (which I had already retrieved a short time ago) I ventured close enough to overhear what the boys were saying.
"You stink, new kid, don't you ever take a baff?" Dale asked making a face and holding his nose.
"Yeah, and your clothes look like rags," Henry jeered, "did you get them at Goodwill."
"I..." the boy started, his words choked off by a sob, "leave me alone, okay. Just leave me a lone," he managed to sob.
"Leave me alone, leave me alone," Dale sassed, then both boys laughed.
"Boys!" I finally said, having heard enough, "Dale Sanders, what do you think your mother would say if she heard you making fun of this boy right now? And Henry Brown, I bet your dad would include your behavior in one of his sermons on Sunday." Henry's dad was the pastor at a small church in the neighborhood, as well as a insurance salesman.
"We was just funnin' with him, Mr. Warren," Dale said, the fear obvious in his voice as he realized he'd been caught.
"We're sorry," Henry said looking terrified, "please don't tell my dad, he'd whup me for sure."
"Well, I tell you what. You get a pass this time, but if I ever hear of you bullying anyone again, I will have a long talk with both your parents, got it?"
"Yes, sir," both boys said, and then they were off like a rocket, not bothering to look back.
I turned to the somewhat relieved boy left behind and smiled at him, "I'm Rob, Rob Warren," I said offering my fist to bump as the kids liked to do.
At first he just stared at the ground, then he raised his small hand and weakly bumped my fist.
"You're new, aren't you?" I offered and when he just nodded, I went on, "I live right here," I said pointing to my house, "and I like to sit out here and watch the kids go by when the weather is nice. I sort of watch out for them and I know most of their parents."
He was back to staring at the ground, then in a weak voice he said, "Can I go now, sir?"
"Of course, but I don't even know your name..."
"Timmy," the boy said, then he was gone.
I stood there a moment analyzing all I'd seen and heard, and for the first time in a long time I was worried about one of 'my kids'. I'd been right about Timmy's clothes being dirty, and Dale was correct, Timmy did smell, even outside in the fresh air I could smell his unwashed scent. And he looked skinny and as frightened as a little rabbit. I got a little angry at thinking that other kids would see this poor boy and pick on him, and wondered if Dale and Henry were the only ones. Well, I was pretty sure those two wouldn't risk doing so again, but I couldn't protect the boy at school, or...at home.
I was a little sad as I started back up the walk, but a soft feminine voice caused me to turn around. The voice belonged to ten-year-old Jenna Williams, a sweet little girl with blond hair and the bluest eyes I've ever seen.
"Hi, Mr. Warren," she said sweetly.
"Hi, Jenna," then I had an idea, "Jenna, did you by chance get a new boy in your class today?"
"Yeah, his name is Tommy or Timmy, I think," she said making a face, "he kind of smells."
"Yeah, well...maybe his parents don't make him bathe regularly," I said, "do you know anything else about him?"
"Nope, she said shrugging, "he's kind of cute, but he's too dirty and stinky to find a girlfriend," she giggled.
"I laughed, well...I'm sure when he starts looking he'll clean up some."
"Well, gotta go," Jenna said then, "have a nice day, Mr. Warren."
"You two, sweetie," I said waving.
So, he was ten, and new to the area. That made me wonder exactly where he lived. All of the houses within this school district were as nice or nicer than mine, then it dawned on me. Just barely inside the boundary of the school district was an apartment complex called Juniper Hills. It had once been a nice place, but over the years had changed owners several times, and the newest owners, out of California or someplace had let it become run down. There were now more section 8 occupants there than regular renters and it had a reputation as being a rough place to live.
Sitting back on the porch I watched the last few stragglers go by, then decided to do some research to find out if I could learn more about the new boy, Timmy. I had a contact in the school, Myra Evans, who was my age, and we'd become good friends in the short time I'd lived there. No, not that good, but we were comfortable with each other, and often went out for coffee or dinner.
She worked in the district office and had access to the records in all the schools within that area. The question was: could I convince her to divulge personal information like that, even if I had a good reason? I decided she might be more cooperative over dinner so I invited her to go with me to Olive Garden that night and she accepted.
My wife, Susan, was a good woman, but not really one for socializing. Her idea of a good dinner was one spent at home, with TV afterwards, and then to bed early. Our love life was healthy, but the passion had long gone out of it by the time she passed away at 49 of cancer. I missed her, but I'd done my grieving and I was trying to live each day to the fullest now, and though I didn't consider this to be a real date, I'd have had no reservations about it if it had been.
I picked Myra up at 7 and we drove to the restaurant and were seated and had ordered by 7:30.
"So, what's up?" Myra asked with a grin.
"Why would anything have to be up. Can't two friends just have dinner?" I asked trying to sound innocent.
"Of course, but it's been a while. I'd begun to think you were seeing someone else," she laughed.
"Myra," I warned, "I thought we were in agreement that this isn't dating."
She shook her head and rolled her eyes, "Whatever, as the kids say. So, I'll ask again, What's up?"
I sighed, "You know me too well," I confessed, then I told her everything I knew.
"Timmy? That's a common name, do you have a last name?"
"Sadly, no, he ran off before I could interrogate him," I joked.
"You say he's ten, so 4th grade. Shouldn't be too hard to figure out. I'll check tomorrow and let you know what I find out."
I just stared at her for a moment, "That easy?"
"What, did you think I'd give you shit over wanting to help a kid?" she laughed, "heck no, in fact, if you need a woman's help, call me."
I smiled, "If I ever did want to date, you'd be the gal," I said leaning in to kiss her on the cheek.
"Watch it, buster," she said grinning, "I might drag you across this table and have my way with you."
We both laughed, but who knew, maybe she was serious.
Monday was cooler, but I dressed for it, and instead of iced tea I had a mug of hot cocoa as I sat on the porch swing and watched the kid parade. There went Jeff, Randy, Sara, Michelle, minus Michael, who often stopped over at his friend Kyle's house. Too creepy for me to know all this, well...I assure you it's innocent enough, no sinister motives here.
Then...just when I'd given up, there came Timmy. No coat, no cap, wearing only a dirty faded long sleeved sweatshirt and jeans with both knees out. He looked miserable and my heart went out to him. How could parents allow their kids to fall into this kind of despair? Damn it, something had to be done.
"Hi Timmy," I said daring to step off the porch and walk slowly toward him.
He seemed unaware of me till I spoke, and then with a deer-in-the-headlights-look he turned my way.
"Uh, hi," he said with a shiver.
"Kind of cold for no coat, did you forget it today?"
He shrugged, "Aint' got no coat."
My heart broke, but I managed to compose myself. I have some hot cocoa in my thermos, maybe you'd like some to warm you up."
I could tell he was torn between 'stranger danger' and a warm cup of cocoa, so I made it easy for him.
"You stay right here and I'll fix you a cup to go, okay. That way you can head on home and don't worry about the cup, I have plenty."
He still looked confused, but perhaps the promise of something warm to drink kept him rooted to the spot and he was still there when I returned. I'd nuked the cocoa and added two big fluffy marshmallows, and as an added treat I grabbed two huge chocolate chip cookies from the cookie jar and wrapped them in a paper towel.
"I brought you some cookies too," I said as I handed him the insulated foam cup of cocoa.
He took the cocoa, allowing it to warm both hands, then he accepted the cookies and looked me squarely in the eye. Tears brimmed in those dark eyes and his lip quivered as he spoke, barely above a whisper, "Thank you."
"You're welcome, buddy," I said smiling, "and if you'd like to stop by every day after school I'll have something for you."
He looked surprised and a bit confused, perhaps the 'stranger danger' thing popping back into his mind, but in the end I think he finally realized I was just being nice.
He nodded, "I have to get home..."
"All right, Timmy, be careful, and I hope I'll see you tomorrow."
He gave me a nod and I watched as he walked away. I saw a cookie go in his mouth and he consumed it in three bites and my heart ached for him. Did he get enough to eat? I knew the school had free breakfasts and lunches for everyone, but what about at night, at home, did he have food there. It was then that I decided he would if I had anything to say about it.
The next day I waited on pins and needles hoping Timmy would show up. Just when I'd about given up and what seemed like the end of the parade had passed, here came my little rabbit, Timmy.
Today he looked as if he'd layered up, the same sweatshirt on the outside, but other shirts beneath, and he didn't look nearly as cold. His eyes caught mine as he approached and I could see the uncertainty there. Should he stop? Did I really mean it? Was I really a bad man trying to lure him inside to hurt him?
Smiling broadly I stood and grabbed the plate of fruit beside me and held it up for the boy to see. I guess hunger won out because in the end he not only approached but actually came up on the porch with me.
While he ate a banana, I handed him a bottle of strawberry Snapple and he took a swig, his eyes wide with wonder.
"Good?" I said smiling.
He nodded vigorously, then chewed some more banana before speaking, "Why you helpin' me?" he asked simply.
I had to choke back my emotions before I could answer, "Because I care about you, about all kids, but most don't need my help, at least most of the ones around here."
He looked out across the nearly brown grass of my lawn and then grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl and bit into it. I turned my eyes to where he looked, wondering what he saw when he looked at a house like mine, a neighborhood such as this. Where did he live, what was it like there, was he warm at night, safe, did he have food? Did his parents love him or was he abused and neglected?
"I know you don't know me, Timmy," I began, "but I'm really a good guy. The people around here know me and they trust me. They know I look out for their kids and they don't worry."
"That why you helped me that first time?"
"Yep, have those two given you any trouble since then?"
"Nope, not them..."
"But others have?"
He shrugged, "I can handle myself."
Even in the fresh air I could smell Timmy's sour unwashed odor and I decided to approach that subject, but wasn't sure how to do it without sounding rude.
"Do you have a bathtub or shower at home?" I finally asked.
"Yep, but the water don't work no more," Timmy said lowering his head, "I know I stink, I can't help it."
Of course my first thought was, 'well you can use my shower', but I shut that down immediately, that was going too far. Having a young boy naked in my house, no, that wasn't the answer.
"I see, folks can't afford to pay the bill?"
He shrugged, "I guess, no lectricity either. It's cold at night."
Neglect, that was what it was. A kid needed the basic necessities and his folks or whoever his guardians were weren't providing those things. Something needed to be done. There were organizations that helped with things like that, but someone had to ask for help to get it. Now, more than ever I needed to know what Myra had found out about Timmy and his family and I couldn't wait to get the ball rolling.
However, I did not rush my little guest, allowing him to eat his fill, then presenting him with a bonus. A sack lunch with two sandwiches, chips, and another bottle of Snapple.
"What's this?" he asked peeking inside.
"Your supper," I said smiling, "just in case."
He looked startled, and I saw tears leaking from his eyes, then he rushed forward, hugged my neck and took off down the stairs, leaving me an emotional wreck as tears streamed down my own cheeks.
I rose and walked to the sidewalk and watched till he disappeared around the corner of Rose Street then I went inside and called Myra. She answered on the first ring.
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