Pewter Angels (3 page)

Thrilled that she had freely offered her name and relieved that she didn’t think he was a complete moron (he hoped), he blurted, “I know. I live just three doors down from you. I watched the movers unload your stuff.” As soon as the words tumbled out, Henry wished he had them back.
Geez, there I go again
. Now she would know he’d been spying on her.

But Jenny didn’t seem to notice, “This is our third move in four years. I hope we stay longer than the last time.”

Henry silently echoed that sentiment.

“We were just settling into our house in Vancouver when someone got sick and they called my dad to move here to Regina to take his place. He said we had to go, it was such a great opportunity.” Her eyes turned toward Henry and they stepped off the curb in unison. “So, here we are.” After a brief pause, she added, “I’m sure you’re not interested in this.”

“Oh, yes,” Henry responded. He would have been interested in hearing her recite the phone book. But Henry couldn’t believe that this gorgeous girl could possibly be interested in
him
.

Just when his heart began filling with doubt and despair, Jenny jumped as a passing car honked its horn. Neither of them had been paying very close attention, and they had just about stepped directly onto Victoria Avenue without even noticing the traffic. Henry caught her eye and they shared a startled chuckle.

Crossing Victoria Avenue was always dangerous. Cars zipped by in a steady stream in both directions. As they waited for the opportunity to cross, Henry noted the sky was clear, not a cloud in sight. Somewhere between the zenith and the horizon was a shade of blue that matched the colour of Jenny’s eyes. He smiled and stole another look at her. The wind gently lifted her hair, exposing the silver stud in her ear, the light glinting off the silver chain she wore around her neck.

Standing next to Jenny on that perfect summer morning, Henry quickly forgot the anguish he had felt just a moment ago and was suddenly flooded with hopeful anticipation.

Finally, a break in traffic allowed them to dart into the street. “Quickly, hold my hand,” Jenny blurted.

He didn’t know if she’d asked because the traffic frightened her or if she just wanted to hold his hand. It didn’t matter. He thrust his hand out and grabbed hers and … all heaven broke loose. An electrifying thrill charged through him. Warm and soft, her hand fit perfectly into his. The sound of traffic faded into the distance; the sun shone like it never had before. The world marched on without them.

Oblivious to cars and traffic, Henry glided blindly across the avenue, unsure if his feet even touched the pavement. The curb arrived a second or two sooner than he expected. Henry stumbled, tearing their hands apart and snapping him out of his reverie. He struggled to regain his balance and composure.

“You really are having a rough time today,” Jenny ribbed him good-naturedly.

“I was paying so much attention to the traffic I didn’t see the curb,” Henry grasped for a reasonable excuse.

“They should have traffic lights or a crosswalk at this corner.” Jenny observed.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

As they walked towards home, Henry shifted the loaf of bread from the hand nearest hers to the other. He wanted to touch her again so badly, he brushed his free hand against hers. Inching his way towards her, his hand finally hit its mark; a warm sensation shot through him as their fingers met.

Jenny stepped away.

“Sorry,” Henry lied as he moved over a bit to give her a little more space, pretending it was an accident.

They were nearing home and Henry wondered if he should walk her to her door or if that would be awkward. Without thinking but immediately wishing he hadn’t, he blurted, “Do you want me to walk you home?”

“I think I can find the way,” she laughed.

Henry loved her laugh. It was natural and easy, and the way her eyes lit up ….

She glanced over at him, “I just wondered … your name is Henry, right? I overheard the man at the grocery store call you that.”

How could he have forgotten to introduce himself to the girl of his dreams? Realizing he had another opportunity to touch her hand, he quickly held his out for a handshake. “Yes, it’s Henry Pederson. Pleased to meet you, Jenny.”

She stared at him and his outstretched hand, then chuckled. Her hand came towards his. He could see it coming, soft and smooth-skinned. No rings, just a small, elegant hand coming closer and closer. He couldn’t wait any longer. He thrust his hand into hers.

Jenny stepped back a bit, startled, but Henry wouldn’t let go. That incredible warm feeling of her hand inside his blitzed through his body again and he wanted it to last forever.

“I really must get these baking supplies home,” said Jenny, juggling the bag in her free arm. She looked at the hand that held hers captive, then at Henry’s eyes. As she began to understand the underlying motive for the handshake, a rosy hue bloomed on her cheeks and she smiled as she gently tugged her hand free.

“Nice meeting you, Henry.” She looked up at the house on the corner. “Is that where you live?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.” Jenny’s eyes widened in surprise. She blushed again.

Henry looked at her sheepishly, fearing that she now knew he was the one she’d seen spying on her earlier—and that he’d followed her to the store. Henry cringed inwardly. He had done one klutzy thing after another; would she ever want to see him again? But if Jenny had any reservations about Henry, she didn’t let on.

“If you’re not busy this afternoon,” she said, her smile covering her words, “could you show me how to get to Balfour High School? I’ll be registering there next week for the fall semester.”

Trying to conceal his utter joy and keep the grin from splitting his face, Henry said, “Sure, Jenny! See ya later.”

He lifted a hand in farewell and nearly floated into his yard and up the three stairs leading to the front door. Not even his buddy Timmy Linder getting out of summer school could keep him from being with Jenny. He glanced over to Jenny’s place. She was just walking through her gate. He waited for a brief moment to make sure she wasn’t looking, then jumped over the banister and slipped between the houses to where he usually kept his bike. He half jogged to the alley behind his house then burst into a run.

Mrs. Goronic was still weeding in her backyard and she called out to him as he darted by. He pretended not to hear her. He had to get his bike.

His bike.
Oh, man
. What if it had been stolen or Old Man Engelmann had taken a sledgehammer to it for cluttering the entryway? Henry’s heart pounded as he ran faster and faster. Sweat trickled down his sides. The traffic on Victoria Avenue was as heavy as it had been earlier. Between cars, he glanced across the street to Engelmann’s store. Was his bike still there? One big truck after another blocked his view. Finally, a break in traffic allowed him a peek. It was gone!

He waited for another break and looked again. It really was gone. He couldn’t believe his eyes. His elation over meeting Jenny plummeted into his shoes along with his stomach. He heaved a sigh and his breathing eased a bit, but he ached from head to toe. The exhaustion of emotional overload hung heavy on his limbs and the pain from his earlier mishap on the bike made itself known again. Queasiness gnawed at his gut.

The traffic finally abated and Henry jogged across the street, the spring gone from his step.

Mr. Engelmann emerged from the store as Henry approached.

“Don’t worry, I have your bike,” he said. “Come on.”

Henry didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. The roller-coaster morning had taken a toll on his nerves.

“When I saw you walk away with that young lady I knew your mind wasn’t on your bicycle, so I decided to look after it for you.”

Henry stared at him, speechless. He’d fully expected a scolding from Mr. Engelmann for leaving the bike on the doorstep and obstructing the entry to the store. This was turning into the best and most unusual day of his life.

“You must be quite taken by that young lady, eh? Leaving your new bike behind just to walk her home. But sometimes other things in a man’s life can become more important, no?” With a wink and twinkle in his eye, Mr. Engelmann added, “I was young once, too, Henry. I may be an old man now but I still understand such things.”

Henry met the store owner’s knowing gaze head on. “Thanks a lot, sir.” And to show his appreciation—and attempt to act more mature than he felt—he put out his hand.

Mr. Engelmann studied him for a moment and his eyes seemed to get a little watery. “You’re a good boy, Henry.” He took Henry’s hand and shook it. Where Jenny’s had been warm and soft, Mr. Engelmann’s hand was dry and coarse and marked with age, but that handshake sealed their friendship.

Mr. Engelmann took Henry around the back of the store. He opened the door to a large shed, and there among the many boxes was Henry’s shiny red bike. Henry took hold of the handlebars and backed the bike out of the crowded storage shed.

“Thanks again, Mr. Engelmann,” he said, then jumped on his bike, careful not to slip and re-injure himself.

Mr. Engelmann waved off his thanks.

Secure on the seat, Henry picked up speed and headed down the street as fast as his legs could pedal. The breeze felt so good. His T-shirt, which had stuck wetly to his back minutes ago, quickly dried as the wind surged beneath and through it. It swelled out behind him like a parachute as he raced down the road passing, 13th, 14th and 15th Avenues in a flash, taking the long way home.

Jenny filled his thoughts once more. How beautiful she was, and how wonderful it had been to hold her hand and look into her eyes. He just couldn’t believe that despite his mishaps and complete lack of flair, she still seemed to like him. It wasn’t just his imagination; they had clicked. Elation soared through him. He felt like he was in a hot air balloon instead of on his bike, coasting over the streets and intersections, fueled by the torch in his heart. This must be what it felt like to be in love!

Gradually Henry’s pent-up energy was expended. Relaxed, cooled off and coming to his senses, he slowed down. But as he neared his home his spirits shot up again. His breath caught. There she was on the front steps of her house, reading a book!

She looked up as his bike
kathumped
over the spaces in the wooden sidewalk, sunlight brightening her face.

An angel. She looked like an angel with her blond hair glistening gold in the bright sun and her smooth skin shimmering in the warm light.

Looking into the sun, she squinted to make out who was in front of her. A lone cloud sailing tranquilly in the vast expanse of the prairie summer sky cast a soothing shadow across Jenny’s face, which relaxed into a welcoming grin.

“Oh, hi, Henry, I didn’t expect to see you again so soon. Just out for a bike ride?”

“Yeah, something to do,” he replied, trying to be casual. “Oh, yeah. When do you want me to show you where Balfour is?”

“Maybe after lunch, say around 1:30 or so. Is that okay?”

“Sure,” Henry replied, his brain whirling for something else to say to keep the conversation going. “What are you reading?” “
Catcher in the Rye
. My mom just finished it and said it’s such a good book. So far it’s kind of boring.” Her eyes rested on the bike. “Say, isn’t that the same red bike that was lying in front of Mr. Engelmann’s grocery store this morning?”

Fire rolled up Henry’s neck and consumed his face. Should he tell her the truth? Should he let her know he’d left his prized possession behind just so he could walk her home and be with her a little while longer? He swallowed hard.

“Yes,” he croaked, offering no further explanation.

Jenny’s eyes brightened and a knowing smile played on her lips.

His secret was out.

H
enry sat at the kitchen table
, memories of his morning with Jenny keeping her with him as if she sat beside him.

He could not stop thinking about her, seeing her in his mind’s eye, or appease the aching desire to be near her and hold her hand. How could he feel so strongly about someone he’d just met and had been with for less than an hour?

“Is something wrong, Henry? You look flushed,” his mother said, reaching to press her hand against his forehead.

The gesture lacked Jenny’s electrifying warmth.

Satisfied her son did not have a fever, she removed her hand and said, “I made grilled hot dogs with fried potatoes and onions for lunch.”

“You did?” Henry looked at his mom in surprise. Thoughts of Jenny had crowded out the heavenly aroma of fried onions and potatoes that normally would have had him salivating by now.

“Perhaps you should lie down for awhile,” Henry’s mom advised as she handed him a plate and watched him twirl the potatoes around with his fork instead of gulping them down as usual.

“Yeah, you’re right, Mom. I’m just not hungry today, I guess. Sorry.”

“Well, we can always warm them up in the oven later.”

Henry left the table and trudged to his room. Maybe he was suffering from the same thing his Uncle Ron had when he met Aunt Darlene. He recalled his mom saying that it had been love at first sight and that Ron had been lovesick for her.

Twelve forty-five
. Still another forty-five minutes before he was to call on Jenny. How would he keep himself occupied until then? The suspense of waiting gnawed at him like the time he and his dad had planned their first fishing and camping trip. Henry walked over to his bed and lay down, and without realizing it, drifted into a deep sleep with visions of Sleeping Beauty occupying his dreams.

He was the charming prince racing through the woods on foot until he arrived at a clearing, and there in the middle of the wildflower-filled meadow lay Jenny, asleep on a bed of white daisies. Henry knew what he had to do to awaken her. Eagerly he ran to her, his lips puckering in anticipation of hers when an elderly man in a tan suit with a yellow flower in his lapel suddenly appeared where Jenny had lain. What was happening? Where was Jenny? He must get to her. Henry quickened his pace but as he drew near another figure, this one hidden in the black cavity of a hooded cloak, loomed in front of him. Cold swept through Henry as the faceless entity grabbed his arm, holding him back. Henry struggled to get free, he just had to get to Jenny, but the cloaked figure was bigger and stronger—“Let go, let go!” Henry cried.

“Henry, Henry,” his mom said, shaking him, “Wake up! You must be dreaming.”

Henry roused, unsure where he was or what was happening until his gaze focused on his mom smiling down at him. “You all right, son?” she asked.

He looked at her without answering; hot beads of perspiration rolled off his forehead even though the hard, rigid grip of the cloaked figure continued to send icy shivers up and down his spine.

“Are you okay?” she asked again, “You still look flushed and … did you have a bad dream?”

Henry shook his head. “Yeah, no … I’m fine.”

“There’s a pretty young girl at the door wanting to see you. She says you’re going to show her where Balfour is.”

“Geez, Mom, what time is it?”

“Oh, it’s twenty minutes to two.”

“Tell her I’ll be right there.” Henry jumped out of bed and ran to the bathroom. After washing his face, he rubbed a little Brylcreem into his hair and combed it, slicking one side back towards his right ear. He tucked his T-shirt into his jeans, took another look in the mirror, then headed down the hall to the front door. Jenny was just inside holding onto the screen door.

“Did you fall asleep?” she inquired.

“Yeah,” Henry replied, a bit embarrassed.

“Boy, it sure smells good in here. Fried onions?”

“Yeah.”

“I love them too, especially with hot dogs.”

“That’s what we had for lunch,” Henry said, a surprised look on his face.
She even likes what I like!

He knew his mom was standing in the background, watching and smiling. Not wanting to see if she had noticed the extra Brylcreem in his hair, Henry didn’t turn around. Instead, he just looked at Jenny and motioned over his shoulder, “This is my mom.”

“Yes, I know. We just met. Are you still able to take me to Balfour High School?”

“Yeah, for sure,” Henry replied, trying to hide his excitement, and anxious to be with her and away from his mom’s scrutiny. “Let’s go.”

“Nice meeting you, Mrs. Pederson,” said Jenny as she pushed open the storm door and Henry followed her out.

“’Bye, Jenny. Nice meeting you,” his mom called after them.

“Is it okay if we walk? My bicycle is still in storage. You can ride yours though, if you want.”

“Oh no, I like walking,” Henry lied.

“So, what grade are you in?” Jenny asked as they headed down Broder Street towards College Avenue.

“Just starting Grade 9, even though I’ll be a year older than most of my classmates. I got pneumonia when I was eight and missed almost a whole year of school, so my parents held me back.”

“That’s funny, the exact same thing happened to me, except I had scarlet fever and missed most of Grade 4. Just as I got better, my dad got transferred to Vancouver and my parents decided to have me repeat fourth grade.”

“So how old are you?” Henry asked.

“Fifteen.”

“Me, too. I just turned fifteen a couple of days ago.”

“So we’re both fifteen and starting Grade 9 at the same high school? Henry, we already have so much in common!”

Just the way Jenny put it, his spirits shot up.

“I’m so excited about starting high school. In a way, I’m happy we moved when we did. Everyone is starting at the same time and I won’t stand out so much as a newcomer. I’d feel a little shy and afraid that I wouldn’t be accepted if I had to start at a new school after the school year had already begun.”

“Oh, I’m certain everyone will like you,” Henry assured her. “But I know what you mean. I remember when we moved into Regina from the farm and I started school late in the fall after harvest how everyone just stared at me for the first day or so.” Actually, Henry didn’t really remember it being such a big deal, but for Jenny’s sake he wanted to agree with her.

As they approached College Avenue, Henry schemed for ways he could hold Jenny’s hand again. If they turned right and headed west down College Avenue three blocks, they could cross at the crosswalk in front of the high school. If he suggested they cross College Avenue right away there might be a chance they could hold hands as they crossed the busy street.

“Balfour’s on the other side of the street, Jenny. Maybe we better cross here—it might be busier further up.”

Jenny nodded. “Okay.”

As they waited for a break in the traffic, Henry wondered if he should just grab her hand or suggest that he hold it as a safety precaution. Jenny resolved his internal dilemma with a quick “Hold my hand” as they stepped off the curb.

Henry put his hand into hers and the wonderful feeling of that morning was instantly recaptured. He tried to recall every aspect of her touch and imprint it on his mind so he would never forget. They dashed across the street then slowed to a walk again. It took several steps and tuggings from Jenny before Henry realized he still held her hand in his.

“Oh, sorry,” he said, his cheeks heating once more.

Elm trees lined this side of College Avenue, the blanket of shade adding a pleasant coolness to the breeze on their faces. Balfour lay a block or two ahead of them. At a clearing in the trees the football field came into view. A team spread across it in a scrimmage, preparing for the fall season.

“They have a football team?”

“Yeah, the Redmen. Guys who want to play in the fall are trying out this week. I was going to play this year but decided to wait and see,” Henry said.

Jenny took in the high school and its setting. “This reminds me of the last school I was at, so well treed and lots of fields around it.”

“Where were you last?”

“In a suburb of Vancouver.”

“Oh, yeah?” Henry replied, even though he had no idea what she meant. She must have sensed his ignorance because she explained what a suburb was and how some cities grew so big that smaller cities developed around them.

“Vancouver must be pretty big then,” Henry concluded.

“Yes, it is. It’s a lovely place, but I still like smaller cities like the one I grew up in.”

“Yeah? Where were you born?”

“Kelowna, British Columbia. It’s a small city and very beautiful. We lived near the lake and did a lot of boating before Dad got so busy with work.”

Less than a block away from the school, Jenny noticed the crosswalk where other kids were crossing College Avenue.

“There
is
a crosswalk.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess so. I forgot all about that.” Henry didn’t meet her gaze.

Jenny slowed and raised an eyebrow at him. Henry knew she was wondering whether to believe him or not. When she shied away, smiling, he knew she realized what his real intent in avoiding the crosswalk had been.

She seemed not to mind too much though, because she fell into step with him again. A moment later she turned and looked up at the two-storey high school stretching over a city block. The brown brick structure boasted an impressively tall, pillared entrance smack in the centre of its otherwise standard design.

“Seems like a nice school. How many students go here?”

“I don’t know, probably a hundred,” Henry replied.

“Oh, is that all? It seems big for just a hundred.”

Henry’s face flushed again as he realized his estimate was likely in serious error. “Oh, did I say a hundred? I meant five hundred.”

“That sounds about right for a school this size, but we can ask when we go in.”

They started up the stairs leading to the front door. Other students, some alone and some accompanied by their parents, also entered and left the building. Henry slipped behind Jenny as they moved to the side to let those heading down the stairs go by, scooting in front of her to hold the door open for her as soon as there was a chance.

“Thank you, Henry.”

Henry just smiled and motioned her inside with a bit of a flourish, following Jenny in as the huge oak door slowly swung closed behind them.

Trying to imagine how Jenny might see it, Henry took in the high ceiling and open hall. It was spacious and impressive and Henry felt a flutter of pride that this was his school. A few people milled around, one or two studied the trophy showcases. Just beyond the trophy displays was the administration office.

Before Henry had a chance to mention it, Jenny spotted the office and marched ahead of him through the door.

An older lady behind the high counter looked up at them and smiled as they entered. Three other women worked at their desks behind her, two of them sorting through piles of forms, the other clacking away on a typewriter. The principal’s office was to their left.

“May I help you?”

“Yes, hi! My name is Jenny Sarsky. I’ll be attending Balfour in September. I came to pick up the registration forms.”

“Certainly, I have the forms right here. Your mom phoned just a few moments ago to tell me to expect you.” The woman flipped through an accordion file on her desk. “I got the forms started and put your name on one of them. Let me go through this again … Sarsky, Jenny. Oh, here it is. You go by your second name rather than your first, do you?”

“Yes, I like Jenny better.”

Henry wondered what her first name was but didn’t want to interrupt.

“Well, here you go. You’ll need to return them before the middle of August. That’s the cutoff date for new student registrations.”

“Okay. Oh! By the way, how many students go here?” Jenny asked.

“As of yesterday, we have 428 attending this fall, but we expect it to be higher than that, probably closer to 450.”

Henry smiled, pleased with his off the cuff assessment.

Jenny turned to him. “You were pretty close, Henry.”

Out in the hall, Henry was about to ask Jenny what her first name was when a group of football players trotted through the front entrance on their way to the gym and showers. Jenny was greeted with whistles and howls. “Hey, what are you doing tonight? Can you help me with my homework?” Another player boasted to a teammate that he’d get her phone number. Henry felt sick. He thought for sure he was going to lose the girl of his dreams to some undeserving football player.

Jenny only said, “Let’s go.”

“Yeah, sure,” he answered, his voice cracking. “There’s a confectionary down the street where some of us hang out from time to time. It’s on our way home, if you want to go.” Jenny nodded. Henry was glad to get out of there. Those darn football players had tried to steal his girl! Between the warm weather, the long walk and his storm of emotions, he needed a drink in the worst way.