Lucien stepped out of the vehicle, landing on the curb.  There was a flurry of activity, and three children raced pass him towards the Children’s Center.  He’d had a hand in Ona’s project but he couldn’t take any of the credit.  On the second day after she’d been discharged from Lincoln Medical, she was the first person wobbling off the ferry.  She’d arrived at the Center to make final preparations for opening day.  Over a month later, the program had been running at capacity; and the children kept coming.  Lucien didn’t want to cross paths with her brothers, so he thought of clever ways to keep tabs on them.  Rachel had been his most reliable source.  Rachel had been at the opening ceremony when The Children’s Center launched by registering its first child.  Noah had returned to his building project, but he’d made frequent visits home until Ona’s leg cast had been removed.  Since Caleb wasn’t directly involved with any charity programs, he’d told his parents that he’d stay behind to assist Ona, if she needed his help.  With Caleb making frequent visits, Rachel used this as her excuse to get better acquainted with him.  She also relayed to Lucien the days and times that Caleb generally made his visits.  Lucien used this information to precisely time his visits.  He would stop by, bringing gifts for the children, or catered food for the participants and volunteers to eat.  He’d tried to offer Ona money, but she always refused, citing reasons that he didn’t agree with.  But he didn’t press because the purpose of these visits was to spend time with her.

Three children stood on the other side of the reception desk wearing ruffled clothing and unkempt hair.  They had used part of their allowance to catch a bus part way, then the rest of the way, they ran.  The bigger of the kids spoke for the group, he explained that they heard about the program from a bunch of kids at their school.  They were told to hurry because there weren’t many openings left.  Ona had stood off to the side while the children rattled off their story to Rachel, and when they shared a glance, Ona didn’t have the heart to tell the children that she didn’t have any available openings.

She pointed across the room, to a partitioned off section.  She said...

“Hi...my name is Ona Zelle, I’m so happy that you chose to come all this way to be with us.  If you go right over there, tell Mr. Judd, that Miss Ona sent you to participate in his sculpting class.”

A chorus of yips, hips and hoorays echoed to the rafters.  When Rachel and Ona were alone, Rachel shook her head, and her ponytail swayed like a pendulum.

“Girrrrl...”  She exaggerated the ‘r’.  “We’re cutting it close as it is.  Just a minute ago, we went five over capacity.”

Ona’s face appeared troubled.

“I know but...they came all this way.  It would be a shame not to let them participate--even if they aren’t officially a part of the program.”

“Ona.”  Rachel perched one hand on her hip.  “The fire marshal isn’t interested in sad faces, snotty noses or watery eyes.  He will shut this place down, and he’ll sleep good at night, knowing that he saved the city from a potentially overcrowded building that could have been a death trap.”

“I know.  I know.  You’re right but...”

“There are no buts.  You have to tell those children that they can’t come back tomorrow.”

“I can’t do that Rachel.”

“Well...I’ll do it...or Sahara can do it.”

“But that isn’t right.  It isn’t fair for me to ask either of you  to do my job.”

“Ona...I don’t mind.  When I was in nursing school, as a student, one of my teacher’s had a motto.  Sink or swim; that’s what she would say whenever we got an impossible assignment.  She’d say...sink or swim.”

Ona looked in the direction of the three children, and she believed that there had to be another way.  She’d thought the words, then she spoke them...

“There has to be another way.”

“I know.”  Rachel said.   “And when you told me that you couldn’t request additional funding from your Conclave; I took it upon myself to help you find additional funding.”

This wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation because within two weeks of starting the program, the word of mouth invitation spread like wildfire.  Children came from high and low and seeing them was a bitter sweet pill to swallow.  One of the stipulations for membership was that the children had to meet certain criteria.  In other words, these children had suffered from a physical or psychological trauma.  When they came, Ona had been stunned.  When she’d formulated the plan, her idea had only dealt with statistics and studies but seeing them was like adding their faces to her summary.

Ona said...

“I’m not so sure how I feel about taking money from a stranger.  I’ve never considered it as a part of my project.”

“Ona...you have to consider it.  Look at these kids.”

Most days, you couldn’t hear yourself think because the warehouse brimmed with sounds in varying joyous expressions.  This day was no different.  In one area, through a soundproof glass, she could see a music lesson in progress.  Across the way, children were reciting lines from a Shakespearean play.  She remembered their faces, and she’d read their stories.  For some of the kids, this was the first time they’d laughed and their eyes weren’t filled with tears.

Rachel said...

“Ona...just think about it.”

“I probably should talk to my brothers first.  Maybe I should call Noah.”

With her parents in the jungle, it wasn’t always that easy to contact them.  Rachel said...

“Well, before you talk to them, maybe you should talk to the investor yourself.  You might find that you can make the decision without your family’s help.”

She wasn’t as sure as Rachel, and she’d prepared herself to say this, when she noticed a person walking towards her.  With nor forewarning, her body froze, responding to an immediate reaction.  Whenever she saw him; each experience swelled in its intensity.

Lucien wore a smile, when he addressed them.

“Good afternoon ladies.”  He looked at Ona to measure her response and he couldn’t get over how amazing she looked.

Rachel said...

“I was just talking about you.”

Ona stared at her and her brow rose, triggered by confusion.  Her mind did a quick rewind, trying to remember every topic and its details.  She rewound the conversation twice, and she didn’t recall hearing or mentioning Lucien Delors.

Rachel said...

“The investor--it’s Lucien Delors.  I explained our dilemma, and he intimated that he was interested in lending his help.”

Ona said...

“You shouldn’t have done that without talking to me first.  The Delors have been overly gracious, and my Conclave fully intends to reimburse you for any inconvenience my injury might have cost you.”

Lucien said...

“And I have turned down their offers.  As I’ve explained to you; I will not accept any form of repayment.  You were my guest Ona--I don’t expect my guest to repay my kindness.”

Rachel skirted around the desk.  He looked at Ona and Rachel said...

“The answer to all of this programs problems is standing right here in front of you--and he wants to help.  If I were you, I’d take him up on his offer.”

Rachel was slipping on her coat, and Ona’s voice quivered when she asked.

“Rachel...why are you putting on your coat?  Where are you going?”

In the past when Lucien made his weekly visits, Rachel had served as an unofficial chaperone.  She’d insisted, just in case one of her brothers arrived because she knew their opinions.

Rachel said...

“Look--We’ve known each other for nearly half a year, and I’ve met both of your brother’s and one of your brother’s friends.  I know enough about your religion to make a few conclusions and I also know that, it wouldn’t be wise allowing them to see you and Mr. Delors alone in your office.”