The Preacher's Son - Juliette Duncan Page 0,19
to point someone in the right direction. You’re going to keep him out of prison, that’s pretty major.”
“For now,” I said quietly, trying not to imagine what the boy’s future could be if he rejected the help.
“I’ll pray for him,” Hayden said simply, and he entwined his hand with mine, our fingers interlacing. He had such trust and found it much easier to ‘give it to God’ than I ever could, although I was learning, albeit slowly. I could tell already that Brazil was going to be a short, sharp shock that would no doubt serve me well and teach me that I could not always simply rely on myself. That there was a time to surrender, as well as a time to fight.
I would fight for Leon. I couldn’t help but think that the boy was one of the reasons I had been led here. “I’m going to put together a workshop for the senior staff at Safe Hands,” I told Hayden, trying my best to detach my thoughts from the mental image of the boy. “After we left the police station, I spent the rest of the day planning it with David. I want to teach the staff about engaging with the police, knowing what rights they and the kids have, and how to use legal jargon to put their arguments together. I also want to get more familiar with the local laws.”
Hayden chuckled. “You’re on a million projects already and we’ve only just arrived.”
He was right, but I only had three weeks to help in any way I could, and some basic legal knowledge would be useful in so many situations. “Tell me about your day.” Tilting my head, I gazed into his eyes.
“It was hard work. I don’t know whether it was jet lag or adjusting to the climate, or both, but it wiped me out. Still, I learned a lot. I met Felipe and Maria, the young couple who’ll be moving into one of the new houses. It’s hard to think of how difficult their lives must be, yet they seemed as happy as we are.”
I thought about that. It was so easy to become complacent and forget your many blessings until you were confronted by people who had so much less.
“I’m training Felipe, too, which I’m pleased about.”
“That’s great!” I sat up and smiled. “I knew they’d put your skills to good use.”
“Yes, it’s nice to feel useful.”
His words gave me pause. “Hayden, you’re just as indispensable at home as you are here. You work hard, you’re great at your job, and you’re an amazing husband and father. The kids and I would be totally lost without you.”
It was true. He was my rock, literally, and it pained me to think he might not see it that way and that he could underestimate his importance in the world.
“I know,” he said cheekily, aiming for a joke, but I could see the fleeting glimpse of sadness behind his eyes.
Taking his hand, I lifted it to my lips, then tried to make a half-joke of my own. “Is this a masculine crisis thing?” I teased. “Feeling as though you should be the main breadwinner? Because you know we wouldn’t have the life we have without your salary, too.”
“No, I don’t think so.” His brow furrowed. “I’m a builder...you don’t get a much more masculine job than that.”
“Well, that’s true.” I laughed. “So, why would you ever think you’re not useful?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugged offhandedly, sounding almost annoyed for a moment. “I didn’t mean anything. Forget I said it.”
I laid my head back on his chest. I knew not to push, but this was an issue that he was obviously still figuring out for himself. For some reason, I didn’t feel as threatened as I usually would. Perhaps Brazil would be the place where we both found what was missing in our lives.
The appeal to the judiciary went more smoothly than I’d expected. They seemed glad to wash their hands of Leon, although no bones were made about what would happen if he were to be picked up for vagrancy again. It would be immediate hard labour.
I glanced over at him as he sat next to me in the passenger seat of David’s car which I’d borrowed for the morning. As we passed the favela, Leon stared out the window.
“Did you grow up there?” I asked.
“Yes, but my parents died and a gang took over our home. I didn’t want to get mixed up with them,