G.N.D: A My Little Dashie Sequel

by Nibrudly

Progress

I had a sizable tub of ‘Moose Tracks’ ice cream along with a couple bowls and spoons sitting in one of those reusable grocery bags in the backseat of my truck. It had been two weeks since all us big brothers and sisters met with our charges. While the meetings were regularly weekly, last week happened to be Halloween. Thankfully, Dashie and I didn’t really do anything special outside of sugar comas and pumpkin pie, so I was safe as far as the nostalgia went. Over the course of that week I had been going over and over again how I should go about today.

The last time, it had seemed like a bust when David had hardly said anything, but now it appeared I was Snowflake’s best shot at reaching the kid. What I couldn’t seem to guess however, was whether David would be open to me or if I’d go through another hour of silence hoping for some kind of response. Regardless, in my spare time I had been catching up on my memes and trends so I’d have better topics…the internet has gotten so bizarre during my extended leave. Granted, once she knew the truth, I let Dashie go on the web (I got a guy to put a content filter on my PC for me so I didn’t have to worry about her finding anything “unnatural") so it was there, but I really hadn’t used it outside of research for budgets and email. But at least now I felt somewhat prepared as I parked opposite the Orphanage entrance.

As I came through the door I was greeted by Snowflake. “Hey, how you doing?!”

I almost dropped my bag as his hand slammed into my back. “Great, just great, Snowflake. How have you been?”

“I’ve been wonderful. We had a great Halloween party last week and all the kids really enjoyed it. You know, outside of those ‘trouble’ kids.”

Since he brought it up, I thought it a good idea to get a heads up before I went in and gave it my all.

“Say, has David been talkative…at all?”

He just crossed his arms and gave a solemn look. “I’m still only getting ‘yeps’ and ‘nopes.’ Hopefully you’ll get more than that today.”

“Yeah, hopefully.”

I barely had time to brace myself before I got another five-star, Snowflake giving me a hearty chuckle.

“Don’t worry about it, you’ll do fine. Good luck.” And with that I made my way to the play room.

Upon entering I saw plenty of the other pairs talking and having their fun. And in the corner, sitting in his rocking chair just like before, was David staring out the window. Surprisingly, he had a card table and a standard size chair set up in front of him. I made my way towards the corner of the room, giving a “Hey” to grab his attention. He pried his eyes away from the window and acknowledged my arrival; probably more for interest in the bag than anything else.

“Hey there David, how we doing?”

No response. I set my bag down and pulled out the tub.

“I brought the Moose Tracks.”

He just gave me a curt nod as he grabbed the bowls and spoons out of the bag. I divvied up the ice cream, both of us just eating it quietly. After ten minutes, I figured now it was appropriate to talk.

“So…anything you want to do?

He just kept on eating his Moose tracks.

“How about sports, I’m sure you play a sport or two?”

This time I got an answer. “Nope”

“Not even one?”

“Never really been into sports.” A complete sentence; I was in.

“Not even Chess?” Now that was pushing it.

“That’s a sport?”

“Correct answer.” As I began to think of another topic that might possibly evoke a response, I noticed that David was now doodling. Now when I say “doodle” I’m not talking stick-men; this was the beginning of a sketch. Last time I saw something like that was when my mom was still alive. “What’s that you got there?”

“Nothing.” He wrapped his arm around the paper and lowered his head to keep me from seeing any more.

“Looks like something to me.”

“Really,” he was getting agitated now, “It’s nothing.”

“Can’t I just take a look?” then he got really ticked.

“I said it was nothing, didn’t I?! Why do you care about it? Just get out and leave me alone.”

Well, that took the wind out of my sails. Maybe I was trying too hard. Just because I got him to talk back to me didn’t mean I could push my luck. So I just sat in my seat content with what I got. But then David spoke up.

“You aren’t gone yet?”

“Was I supposed to be?”

“Kind of…”

Interesting. “Why would I leave?”

“Because…you know.”

“No, not really. Care to elaborate?” Was I making progress?

“Well, usually people have better things to do with their time than visit a kid, in an orphanage, on a Saturday. Especially when the kid is me.”

“You mean how you don’t talk a lot and stuff like that?”

“Yeah…stuff like that.” And now I was getting somewhere.

“Snowflake told me about that. Any reason why I’m currently six months ahead of schedule?”

“Did he really put it like that?” I gave a nod in reply. “Well, you waited for an hour; I figured you should have something to show for it.”

“I’m sure Snowflake has waited far longer and has gotten much less, so I don’t think that’s it. C’mon, what’s the real reason?”

And now he was back to being quiet. He went back to his doodling and I just plopped another scoop into my bowl. It was twenty minutes and another bowl later before David picked up where he left off.

“What happened?”

“Come again?”

“I saw you the whole time out of the corner of my eye, you looked sad. And then when you gave me that advice, I figured it was from experience. So what happened?”

“That’s rather private, don’t you think?” His head sunk and he went back to his doodling. Smooth move there, real brotherly. But it’s not like I had to share that with him, it was my business. But then again, I had held it in all to myself for so long; perhaps finally getting it off my chest with another human being would help me move past it.

“However,” and now I regained his attention, “It’s not really fair of me to ask you to do all the talking, especially since I’m supposed to be a mentor figure or something like that. Care to be more specific?”

With this, he seemed to become more relaxed. “What happened that made you want to do this?”

“Well I…I lost somebody.”

“Who?”

“My daughter. She…” It was hard to be vague; I couldn’t really think of anything that would be plausible. So I just went with the first thing that popped into my head. “…took a job out of the country.”

“Then how is she lost? Did you like, get into a fight or something like that?” It stung to bring it up, but it felt good to be finally saying it out loud. So I continued.

“No she…” what was some good bull? Ah, yes. “…She’s just too far for me to call her. Or, at least, I don’t know how to reach her. She’s not really supposed to stay in contact.”

I doubt he bought that, but he answered anyway. “Well, at least she’s out there.”

“Yeah…she is.”

Somewhere inside, something stopped throbbing. It…it’s not something I can describe very well. It just felt like something was flowing now where it had been blocked up. However I pushed the relief aside and continued the conversation. I was making some headway now.

“Anyway, she left me with some spare time on my hands and I found one of Snowflake’s fliers. So I figured ‘what the hell?’ Does that work for you?”

“Yeah, that works. Sorry that she’s gone.”

“Thanks. Now…” I leaned forward on the table, resting my chin in my right palm, “who’s ‘she?’ The one you mentioned last time.”

“Hmm…don’t you think that’s rather private?” Well played, very well played. I was willing to settle for what I had; at least we had a conversation this time. And it wasn’t like we still couldn’t continue; we still had a good half hour left.

“Well then, if we’re off that topic, what do you like, David? If sports aren’t your thing, what do you do in your free time?”

“Homework, videogames, stuff like that.”

“What about the drawing?”

“Nah, it really is nothing; just a bunch of stupid doodles.”

“Okay buddy-“

“Buddy?”

“Well yeah, if we’re going to be doing this for a long time to come, we may as well have nicknames.” It didn’t really qualify as a nickname and it wasn’t the most imaginative thing to call him, but it was better than “kid” and it had a better ring to it than “pal.” Fortunately, he took it well.

“Fine then, Old man.”

“There you go, that’s it.” What a cheap shot. “Now, you may have everybody else fooled, but I can see you know how to draw.”

“Yeah right.” He gave a dry chuckle and continued to sketch and outline as I continued to press my case.

“Buddy, I lived with an artist for eighteen years; your ‘doodles’ just need ink and color to finish them off.”

“They’re not that great,” he shot me a quick glance, “you really think so?”

“My mom tried to teach me to draw like that for five years before she finally gave up on me. Trust me; I know what good is supposed to look like.”

“So your mom was the artist?” I could tell he was growing more interested as he sat up in his chair and focused his eyes on me.

“Yep. Her paintings were amazing. She always put so much life and color into her work, even if it was the dumbest thing you could paint. Now…um,” I was taking a risk now, “what about your mom?” Did I really just ask that?

David sat there for five minutes gathering his thoughts before he (amazingly) touched upon the subject. There wasn’t any emotion on his face, but I could see that faraway look come to his eyes.

“She was the best mom ever. Never angry, never hit me, always told me ‘I love you’ before I’d head out for the bus. She always played with me whenever I’d bug her to. And her bed time stories, they were as amazing as…” He snapped back to reality and cut himself short. “Anyways, you know…she died.”

I was a horrible person. I can’t believe I actually brought that up. “I’m sorry, David.”

“Don’t be, I’m sorta glad she died. It was far less painful for her.”

“How so?”

“She had cancer.” As soon as he said that, I repeated no less than one hundred times in my head, What the hell is wrong with me?!

At that point we reached the inevitable awkward silence. Thankfully, our time was up; keeping me from putting my other foot in my mouth. Neither of us said another word as I cleaned up the bowls and put the empty tub back into the bag.

“Alright, see you next week, buddy.”

Despite the awkwardness of our previous conversation, I heard behind me

“See you later, Old Man.”

I glanced behind me and saw a small grin on his face. I returned the grin as I made my way out of the room and to the front desk to report to Snowflake.

The smile on my face only seemed to magnify Snowflake’s as he began to grill me. “How’d it go? What’d you talk about? Did you talk?”

“Calm down, I’m getting to that.” I leaned against the counter as I filled him in. “Get this: I not only had complete sentences, we had an actual conversation.”

Oh, the look on Snowflake’s face. It was like telling somebody they just won the lottery. “You’re freaking kidding me! He really talked to you?”

“That he did. He asked why I was here, I told him, and then we talked about our moms.”

His smile disappeared as his jaw went slack. “He actually talked about his mom? And it’s only the second meeting?”

“Yes, and I felt like a horrible person for allowing it to come up. Did you know she died of cancer?”

He had a solemn expression as the shock left his face. “Yes, yes I did; got it in right here in my files. Went through two long years of pain. She was absolutely broke after the first year, so she was unable to keep up with the treatments. I can only imagine how painful it had to have been. And not just for Mom, but for David as well.”

“How old was he?”

“He was just a second grader when she was diagnosed. Then when she couldn’t afford treatment anymore, she stopped trying and just saved her paychecks so David would have a nest egg. You wouldn’t believe some of the jerks he ended up with in the foster system. At least half of them tried to gain access to those funds. But nope, I got the numbers in my records and they’re going to stay there ‘til he’s eighteen.”

“Wow…no wonder he’s so closed up.” Snowflake just gave a simple nod in agreement.

“Do me a favor; don’t ask me for any more. I mean, I’m willing to help you as much as I can, but I think it would be better if you heard these things from David and not-“ he pointed towards one of his filing cabinets, “-a stack of papers. You get what I mean?”

“I understand completely. So, next week then?” I made my way towards the door.

“Yep, see you next week. Same time, same place. Have a good day!”

As I got into my car, I couldn’t help but wonder what else happened to David. Just how long he had been on his own and just how hard it must have been with his mom. I continued to think about this even as I walked through my front door after my commute. I made my way to the kitchen and began to make my dinner when it hit me: I didn’t go to the album. I always went to the album after coming home, but not today. I had finally ignored it. I was becoming normal again. I was finally moving on, I had made progress! But what was on my mind took precedence over this personal growth.

Don’t misunderstand; Dashie was still very much in my head. But now she was on the back burner, like I had been waiting for since September. However, instead of just thinking about what to do now, I found my thoughts drifting towards David. I’m not saying this was odd, I would have expected this at some point since I was involved now. I just found it bizarre he could just push Dashie out of the way like that. Why did he have that effect in my head? Maybe, just maybe, it was because I had someone new to worry about.

And that’s when I realized my priorities had changed. When you become a parent, you go from wanting to live out your dreams and ambitions to focusing on taking care of your kid. When you’re all they’ve got and they’re all you got, that’s all you think about at night: “Is my kid okay?” Then when they grow up and go off on their own, they leave a hole behind. Now, usually, it’s not that big; you have other kids or a spouse to also take care of. But Dashie was all I had and now she’s gone completely: I have nothing to occupy that space. So I guess it only made sense that I’d try to fill in that gap somehow. (After reading all those therapy books and watching Dr. Phil, you can’t help but psychoanalyze your situation from time to time.)

But that wasn’t right; I couldn’t think of David as a replacement. I could never and would never replace Dashie, and I couldn’t do that to David. I was fine with him being my new focus, but I couldn’t let it become about me. And that’s when I understood what had been wrong with me the past few months. I had been feeling empty, not just because Dashie was gone, but because I had lost my purpose. For these last few months, I didn’t have something to focus on, something to take care of; I didn’t have a reason for living.

It was then and there that I recognized my new job was to help David. So long as he was in my life, I was to be there for him. And so long as he was doing alright, I was doing my job. I found new purpose, and this new purpose was going to require my full attention.

I walked over to the coffee table and I snatched the album up. I jogged up the stairs and into my bedroom. I took one last look at the album cover before placing it on my bookshelf, to be opened only on special occasions. I went outside, fired the mower and went to work on the lawn. After two hours I had finished as the last traces of sunlight disappeared. It still needed some work, but I had accomplished what I had set out to do.

There were new priorities now; I had purpose again. And because of that, I really needed to get my act together. Dashie was out of the nest and on her own. Now it was my responsibility to help David get out of his shell and spread his wings. And I fully intended on doing so. Not just because I had purpose again, but because I was sure David was going to go places in his life. And so long as I was there, I was going to help him get to them.