Chapter 3

Chapter 3

     Maggie opened the door with a smile. She looked at Farrah with a big grin. “On time. Good job” she said. Wes and Farrah noticed Maggie was dressed nicer than usual, and she had a petite blue hat on, with cluster of feathers bigger than the hat itself. Wes thought immediately to when Maggie would go to her gospel church on Sundays and wear a different hat every week. He hadn’t really thought about why she didn’t go anymore. 

     “Maggie, thank you” said Farrah.

     “Thank your brother, this is his doing.”

     Maggie escorted them down the alley to her car, a 40 year old blue Delta Oldsmobile that seamed longer than a yacht. The interior had the same smell as her house, and the same look, clean and polished. “I think we should try thrift stores. Money will go a lot further don’t you think?” Maggie said more as a statement than a question.

     “Maggie I will be happy with whatever”  Farrah said.

      The first place they went was Second Hand Anne’s. A thrift store that donated money to battered women. It was a large open warehouse with sections barely divided with enough space to walk through. They headed for the girls’ clothing section and grazing through like cattle.

     “This is cute” Maggie said, holding up a 1980’s corduroy jumper dress.

     “Hmmm.” Farrah took the ugly brown dress and held it up to her body. “Darn too small.”

     “Yeah I think you are right Farrah.” Wes added for good measure.

     “I do like these.” Farrah held up a pair of black skinny jeans with a small tear in the knee.

     “Yeah put it in the cart as a maybe and try them on later.”

     A half hour had passed and they had a dozen or so things piled in the cart. Trying them on was a boring waiting game for Wes and Maggie, with Wes being a little more impatient. Half the pile ended up being purchased, with only 25% of the budget spent. Farrah was happier than either of them had seen in a long time.

     When they arrived at the third thrift store, Farrah still had $12.00 to spend, and she would need it, because Encore was a higher end thrift store, if there was such a thing. They were pricier than normal thrift stores but still cheaper than retail, even Paul-Marts.

      Encore was cleaner, and more organized. The clothes were color coded and organized by size. It was much easier finding things. They also sold some new things with tags. They were generally irregular and from retail chains. Encore’s atmosphere was much better than searching through bins of random clothing and linens. That was a time consuming and tedious task that Farrah really didn’t enjoy. Farrah found some great shirts to go with the 5 pairs of jeans she had already found. Maggie became insistent that Farrah find a dress. Farrah was enjoying her journey to please Maggie. She wanted to find a dress too. After wearing boy clothes for at least six months she was ready to feel like a girl again. Farrah looked up at the half manikin resting on the round rack she was sifting through. It was a gold paisley printed dress that grabbed her attention, and soon recognized it was too big, but the white back pack that the plastic arms held into place was like fate. She could get something like the other kids. Farrah felt normal picturing herself wearing it at school.

     “Wes, I want the back pack, can you grab it.”

     Wes’ height came in handy sometimes and he slipped the backpack off the manican.

     “It’s decent he said and only $4.00” Wes said.

     “You will get it dirty” Maggie said. “Look it already has a yellow stain.”

     “Only on the bottom, no one will see” Wes argued.

     “Well Farrah it is your choice,” said Maggie.

     “Thank you Maggie.” Farrah grabbed Maggie and hugged her with all her might, then realized that the 70 year old women was probably being crushed, and backed off. Farrah looked at Maggie to appologize, but stopped. Maggie was crying. “Oh, Maggie, did I hurt you? I am so sorry.”

     “No Farrah, I am just so thankful for your gratefulness. I am happy to see grateful people, especially someone so deserving. I forgot what it was like to feel this. Just overwhelmed I guess. Now let’s check out, shall we.”

     Upon reaching the counter, Farrah read a sign that said sign up for our newsletter and get this shopping trip half off. “Before we pay we need to sign up,” Farrah said while pointing at the sign.

     “Sweet” Wes said.

     The hyper blonde kid behind the counter was jumpy and all over the place. The total for everything came to $10.50 until Farrah handed him the slip she filled out for their newsletter. “I want to give you this too.” Farrah handed the blonde the slip.

     “Oh, yeah. Good deal huh. Then you owe $5.25 and you get 50% off any craft supply items. That is for today only. Tomorrow it is sporting goods.”

     “Let’s look” Maggie said.

     There were bins of ribbon and fabric. Maggie rummaged through the buttons like she was digging for treasure. Farrah spotted something and needed Wes to go away.

     “Hey, Wes you think you could put this stuff in the car?”

     Wes was trying to think of how to give Maggie alone time with Farrah, this was the perfect opportunity.

     “Yeah, no problem” he said.” He then walked to Maggie who was still digging through the barrel of buttons and whispered. “Hey Mags, I am going to the car and waiting there. You want to look for that bra we talked about.”

    Maggie looked up from her scavenger hunt and shook her head in acknowledgement.

     Wes grabbed the keys from Maggie and went to the car. It was another 20 or so minutes before they joined him. He was happy with how things turned out, he was happy Farrah had enjoyed the day too.

    When Wes arrived home later that night after work, he was surprised the door wasn’t locked as he had instructed Farrah to do. A bit of panic sprang to life in his chest, and then shock at the house. Everything was clean. There were no dishes in the sink. Everything was dusted and vacuumed, and even smelled like lemons. He looked for Farrah, but didn’t see her anywhere in the kitchen or living room. He went to her room and saw Farrah passed out on her bed, her disheveled hair and awkward position showed just how tired she must be.  He closed the door with a gentle thud.

     He was tired too and wanted to change.  When he went to his room, the shock didn’t stop. She even cleaned his room. His bed was made. Recalling the last time his bed was made, was impossible. In the center of the bed was a large paper bag. It had doodles all over it. He knew it was Farrah’s art. She loved to draw dogs. He opened it and found a note.

     Wes,

     Did you know you’re the best brother ever? Well I do. You do everything for me, and I love you. I wanted to do something for you! I knew you were running low.

                       Love,Farrah

P.S. Even Maggie thought it was a good idea!

P.P.S. Maggie came over and saw the house and made me clean it. It looks good now. J

    Wes lifted the bag and peeled it open. “Paints.” He said to himself. “She got me paints.” The bag was full of acrylic paints. He saw every basic shade, some only half full, but all still good. Wes sighed. “Wow, I can’t believe she used her clothing money on me.” Wes walked to his closet and grabbed the landscape canvas that sat on the top shelf.

     Getting the canvas to a paintable surface was a little difficult. He worked hard scraping the canvas to a flush point without stabbing through. Painting it a solid white was a much quicker process. The sun wise rising before he looked up from the canvas again. He had finished it. A partial island scene peaked through on the left side, showing a glittering cascade of water from a high cliff. The waterfall disappeared into a lush green forest. Panning to the right you could see the ocean a, greenish blue, and just as Maggie requested it kissed a pale blue sky, that held streaking highlighted clouds. He was pleased at the final product, and fell asleep soon after.  It was midday Sunday and he could hear Farrah rattling around in the kitchen.

      He opened his eyes and saw the painting. He was excited to get up, and show Farrah what they were going to give to Maggie. When he got to the kitchen, Maggie was there, cooking something with Farrah. It smelled great.

     “You sleep to long” she said in annoyance.

     “I have good reason. Hold on.” Dashing to his room he was able to grab the painting and come out in no time. “Maggie look. I did it last night or morning, whatever.  Anyway I finished.  Thanks Farrah for the paints and the note. That was really cool of you.”

     Maggie stood speechless, she gazed at the image for what seemed like eternity to Wes. “Well do you like it Maggie?”

    “No child” Maggie paused. “Like is not a word I can use for this. Love seems too small also. Do you know how perfect this is?”

     Elation spread through Wes’ body. “Really Maggie?”

     “Wes that is amazing! How did you do that?”

     Wes walked Maggie up to her apartment after their chili lunch. He carried the painting and hung it for her. While he hung it above the faux fire place mantle as she had requested, Maggie disapeered, only to reappear with Pearl her next door neighbor.

     “What did I tell you Pearl is this not the nicest painting you ever saw?”

     “You really paint that boy?” Pearl asked.

     “Yeah I did. Maggie inspired it though.”

     “Boy, what ya doing here. Go to art school or something, you are wasting your talents here.”

     Even the next day at Burger Hut, Pearl’s words hung in the air. “What ya doing here?” He wondered that, and then felt selfish for wanting to be in college. Guilt pressured him into tricking himself out of believing that art school was even a possibility, a year ago. His art teacher had told him he could easily get a scholarship. Wes didn’t even try. He knew it was out of the question, and he could never tell his teacher why.

     Farrah was so excited to go to school. She gazed at her reflection. Her black skinny jeans and sparkling peace sign shirt turned her into someone else. The things that normally bothered her about herself seemed to vanish. The nose she always thought of as too big on her face was just right. The bizarre green eyes she inherited from her father seemed glamorous now.  Not to mention how her long brown hair fell around the sides of the all-white Sporty Jan back pack she was rockin’. She felt like a million bucks and when she went to school others could tell.

     “Hey Farrah, I like the look today” said Jacob. He was the cutest boy in Farrah’s class.

     “Thanks Jake.” She said as cool as possible. She was  screaming in her head. Jake had dated Missy, and Missy had just heard the compliment.

     Missy was acting different around her, she kept staring at the back pack.  She can’t say anything to me now. I am dressed in something she would wear, and even Jake said I looked good.

     Lunch was the same. Farrah sat with Veronica, a chubby freckled face girl, who she made daily idle chit chat with. She was listening to Veronica describe a movie she had just seen when Missy came walking up.

     “Farrah I saw your back pack. Where did you get it?”

     Farrah did not want to say Encore. She lied. “The mall, why? You want one?”

     “Uh, no. I bet you didn’t get it from the mall.”

     “Whatever Missy leave me alone.”

     Missy’s tone grew loud, three tables stopped to listen to her. “I know where you got it and I am going to prove it!” Her snide tone made Farrah cringe. “You did not get it at the mall. When we get back to class I am going to prove it to everyone.”

     Farrah was confused, how on earth could she prove it wasn’t from the mall. There was no stamp on it that said “bought at Encore”. Dred set in as the lunch bell rang. “I hate Missy” Veronica said.  “Don’t worry Farrah she is bluffing.”

    As usual Mrs. Pillsner was not in the class right after lunch. She usually came in about five minutes after.  When Farrah walked in Missy was already in the front of the class holding her back pack.

     “Oh, good Scare-Uh is here. Okay everyone. Farrah said she got this back pack at the mall. Right Farrah?” Farrah just stared at Missy, not understanding where she was going with this. “Farrah is not only the poorest girl in school, she is a liar too. She got this at a thrift store down town. I know because I donated it. See the bottom? My dumb little brother spilled orange juice on the floor and it soaked the bottom. My dad bought me a new one last week. So Farrah, are you going to tell the truth?”

     “Yeah Farrah tell the truth.” Rachel chimed.

     Farrah grabbed the back pack from Missy. “Don’t touch my stuff. I don’t want your prissy, stuck up, hateful hands on my new back pack, from the mall!”

     It took everything to keep from crying. Farrah would not give Missy the satisfaction, but once school was over and she was at home with Wes, she broke down.

     She didn’t spare a detail, and when she finished, she asked if she could go to a new school, and Wes wanted to do that for her.

     “You know we can’t, there is paperwork that parents have to sign and meetings they would have to show up for.”

     “I hate Missy. She is so mean. I hate her Wes. I am going to use my old back pack tomorrow.”

     Wes rolled, tossed, flipped his pillow a full hour before the answer came to him. “Her back pack.” That night Wes stayed up painting her back pack. All the places that Farrah, her dad, and himself had ever talked about grew out of the fibers of the back pack. He painted it as if it were covered in post cards, from everywhere. The images were so seamless, you didn’t know where one began and one ended. The Taj Mahal blended right into the Eifel Tower. The Grand Canyon rested next to the Sphinx. The Seattle Space Needle shared the left side with Niagara Falls. He impressed himself. He didn’t realize this all lived with in him, or just how much he was suppressing his gifts. 

     When Farrah woke, to the sound of a blow dryer, she didn’t know what to think. She walked into the bathroom expecting to see Wes blow drying his hair for his interview today. The room was empty. Following the noise, she found Wes blow drying her back pack.

     “Is that my back pack? Holy crap what did you do? Oh my gosh is that Stonehenge, and the Statue of Liberty? Wes this is amazing! I thought you were blow drying your hair for the interview. I love it”

     “Oh crap my interview. What time is it?”

     “Seven, Wes I wake at seven every morning. Oh no, so is your interview. Go ask Maggie for a ride.”

     Even with Maggie’s help Wes walked into Destiny Destinations, 27 minutes late and looking like he has been drinking all night.

     “Uh, you can go. I don’t hire people who show up to interviews late.”

     “Dana I am sorry. I am so sorry, please interview me. If you don’t think I am right for the job after 5 minutes I will walk out, I promise and never bother you again.”

     “I don’t hire druggies.”

     “You know, I am late, I look like crap, but I am not a druggy.”

     “Explain! Your five minutes started 30 seconds ago.”

     “I stayed up all night, painting my sisters back pack. These girls were making fun of her because they knew she got it from a thrift store, and I couldn’t make her face them today without giving her something to feel good about.”

     “You know, I have had over  two dozen employees, and that is the best lie I have heard.”

     “First of all it is not a lie, and second it was your agency that inspired my work. You would think that would have reminded me of the time, but when I paint, there is no time. I promise if you give me a chance, I will never let my painting get in the way of this job.”

     “Wesley, I called your references, and all of them talked about how brilliant and responsible you were. None of them had a bad word to say. You were hired yesterday, but fired at 7:01. I can’t have liers working for me.”

     “My sister is in our neighbor’s car right now, they are waiting for me. She has the back pack. I really don’t care if you hire me now. But I am not a druggy or a liar.” Wes walked away feeling hurt by her words.

     “Well then I will follow you out, and either be proven wrong, in which case I will apologize for calling you a liar, or you can apologize for lying.”

     “Fine.”

     They reached the car and Maggie rolled down the window, as did Farrah in the back seat.

     “Do you remember me” Dana said to Farrah?

     “Yeah, you own the Travel Place.”

     “Your brother tells me some girls were kinda hard on you yesterday.”

     “Well that is my business” she said glaring at Wes.

     “What I mean to say is did he do something about it, last night?”

     “Oh, my back pack.” She lifted it from the floor board and handed it out the window.  “It is the coolest back pack ever! Don’t you love it.”

     Dana inspected the back pack, reading her body language was hard. “What is your name?” Asked Dana.

     “Farrah.”

     “Farrah you are very lucky to have a brother who cares about you so much. I think I am lucky to have such a dedicated employee.”

     “Really he got the job? That is great, he will work hard!”

     “His first assignment is to do another one of these back packs, I have an idea for the store.”

     “Really?” Wes said.

     Dana reached into her coat pocket and pulled out her wallet. She handed him $100.00. “This should be enough for the back pack and the supplies, right?”

     “Yeah, yes that is plenty.”

     “Good, I will pay you $200.00 for the finished product and see you at 7, not 7:27 on Friday, for training.  Deal?”

     “Yes!  I will have it done before then.”

     Farrah walked into class a few minutes late. Maggie had stopped and bought them all breakfast, and wrote a note for her tardiness. When she walked in all eyes were on the infamous back pack. Missy did a double take. Even Mrs. Pillsner made a comment.

     “Farrah that is the neatest back pack, I have ever seen. Where did you get it?”

     “Actually the truth is, it is recycled. I bought it from a thrift store and my brother painted it.” She had no fear of letting people know where she got it now. “In fact Mrs. Pillsner I wouldn’t even have it, if it wasn’t for Missy. You see she donated it and gave my brother the perfect canvas. In fact he is getting paid $200.00 to do another one just like it.”

     “Farrah that is really exciting, we will have to take a break after math so you can pass it around to show everyone.”

      Missy’s face matched the red sweater she was wearing. Farrah smiled at Missy and mouthed “thank you”.  Missy rolled her eyes, and mouthed “whatever” right back.

     Math passed and the class spent 20 minutes taking turns looking at all the details of the back pack. Mrs. Pillsner said it was a great way to learn about the world.

     “Farrah, that back pack is off the hook.” Jacob said.

     “Yeah, my brother is pretty talented.”

     “Hey, Farrah would your brother paint mine, if I asked him?” Jenna asked.

     “I don’t know, he kind of has two jobs and not a lot of time.”

     “Yeah, Jenna besides, all-white back packs are in.” Missy said.

     “Not anymore” said Jake.

     Wes showed up on time on Friday. “One tricked out back pack, at your service.”

     “Nice Marsh, I like it. No no I love it. It is going right in the window, along with my new add campaign.” She bent over and struggled to pull out a huge sign. Wes read it. Back Pack the World. Schedule for Summer trips now and receive 15% off.

     “I like it. No no I love it.” Wes smiled.

     The training involved paperwork, phones and doggy duty. Dana explained that three days a week, including today, her two pampered Maltese dogs, Fee Fee and Cha Cha would need to be walked, fed and kept entertained while she was with clients. The dogs looked like large white cotton balls floating across the floor.

     When Wes picked up Farrah that Friday, they were stopped by Mrs. ST. James. she clopped over to them in her high heels, jeans, and screechy voice “Hello, Wesley, Wesley Marsh”.

     “Yeah?” Wes said confused.

     “I heard about your back packs. I want to commission you.  I’m willing to pay top dollar for one for my daughter, Missy. She loves horses, so maybe you could personalize it.”

     “Farrah, isn’t Missy the one who embarrassed you in front of the whole class?”

     “Yeah, she did.”

     “That is what I thought. Sorry I don’t paint for bullies.”

     “You know I am sure it was just a misunderstanding” she said. “I am willing to pay $350.00 dollars.”

     “Oh he will do it” Farrah answered.

     “No, Farrah I won’t. Mrs. St. James, your daughter has tortured my sister this year and you want me to do something for her. I refuse to paint for her or any of your family. I don’t care if you offered me a house. Your daughter is a hateful little snot who needs to grow up and see that not everything has a price. You hear that Missy, you can’t buy me.”

     “I can’t believe how rude you are?” Mrs. St. James said.

     “Yeah, and I can’t believe you thought you had a chance at me painting her back pack.”

     “Oh my gosh. You were great” Farrah said.

     When they got home a note that was taped to their door, the letter head said Nevada Department of Child and Family Services.

     Wes’ heart dropped. His eyes raced back and forth, looking to see if the person who left it was still around.

     “Hurry, get inside Farrah.”

     “What why?”

     Wes read every word. The things that popped out most were. “Mrs. Marsh, we need to know who has been taking care of your children while you have been in jail for weeks at a time. We have come several times and tried to contact you but seem to have missed you. Reports of your children staying alone have been made on more than one occasion. The state of Nevada is required to check into all reports of abuse and neglect.” Wes read the last line over three times.” If we do not hear from you within 3 days we will try to contact you in person again.”