A Helping Hand

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A helping hand for a girl whose world is crumbling.
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jfremont
jfremont
336 Followers

He saw her there, sitting on a log a little way off the path by the edge of the river. All he could really see was her long, brown hair where it fell over her head as she leaned forwards, her face in her hands. Her shoulders seemed to be rhythmically moving as though she were crying but, if so, they were silent sobs. He could hear nothing. Still, something in the set of her shoulders said she was in some kind of distress.

Perhaps it was the contrast to the wonderful weather. It was mid October. The day was warm, partly sunny as piles of fluffy white clouds played hide and seek with the bright solar light. The leaves had turned, many already on the ground, many more falling in an incredible cascade of color as the slight breeze started them on their autumn journey towards the forest floor.

In the far distance he could sometimes just hear the sound of other students on the huge campus. Many on their way towards the stadium - the game with Illinois started in another hour. Many others were on their separate ways to their own diverse activities for a beautiful fall Saturday. There were also occasional sounds of distant laughter and once he thought he heard the beat of drums as, perhaps, the band warmed up for the game.

All this made the sight of the girl and her obvious distress seem more out of place. Something that didn't belong at all - or at least not to this place or this time. Chris hesitated. After all, even if she was upset about something, she might not want a stranger trying to interfere. She would probably just tell him to get lost. Or maybe even something a little stronger. He started to keep walking down the path.

On the other hand, how could he just ignore someone who was so obviously in misery? His steps slowed and he came to a lagging stop, turning to look again at the seated girl. The thought came suddenly into his head that she might be out here with the intent of killing herself. Unlikely, true, but not impossible. In a school this size there were several suicides a year. He didn't really believe that was a likely possibility but if there were even the remotest chance of preventing one, he had to try.

Chris turned from the forest path and slowly made his way over the ten or so yards towards where the girl was seated, stopping some five feet from her. The girl didn't seem to be aware of his presence at all, still lost in her own world, her shoulders still rhythmically moving. He still couldn't hear any sounds of crying but her breathing definitely indicated that she was.

For perhaps six or seven seconds he stood just watching her and then he finally cleared his throat and said, "I don't mean to intrude but you look like you might be in trouble. Is there anything I can do to help?"

The girl suddenly jumped and jerked her head around at him. She really hadn't been aware of him at all. Then, just as quickly, she turned her head back away from him, but in that second he had seen that she had definitely been crying, her eyes wet, her face a little swollen. Still looking down she gave a quick rub at her eyes and mumbled, "I'm all right." Then she managed to add, "Just a little upset. Thanks for being concerned."

She remained looking downwards and after a few seconds Chris said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you but you looked like you could maybe use some help."

Still looking away from him she replied, "I'll be all right. I just have some personal problems."

Reluctant to leave her like that, Chris hesitated a little longer, debating if he should just turn and go away and leave her alone. Once again he started to turn back towards the path and then stopped. He turned back towards the girl and said, "Look, I really don't want to intrude but sometimes it helps to talk about things - makes problems seem smaller or more easily handled. Here I am, a perfect stranger. I don't know you, you don't know me, so anything you say doesn't have to go any further. Why don't you try it - it certainly can't hurt, now can it?"

The girl wiped at her eyes once more and then slowly turned to face him. He could see her eyes were a lovely shade of brown, almost golden, although now they were rimmed with red. Her face would be very pretty, even if not classically beautiful, when the puffiness went away.

For probably twenty seconds she just looked at him and Chris managed to remain quiet, just waiting for her to make up her mind. At last she seemed to come to some decision or, maybe more correctly, became resigned. Slowly she said, "I don't really think it will help solve anything if I talk about it but I think you are probably stubborn enough to just stand there until I do. Besides, you're probably right that it won't hurt anything if I do talk about it." Then she forced a kind of smile. "Have a seat," she said, pointing to another log a couple of feet in front of her.

Chris smiled back at her and moved to sit down. "No, I'm sure it won't hurt anything. And who knows, the horse may learn to sing."

She looked totally confused at this comment. "What?"

He gave a slight chuckle. "It's a reference to an old story. I believe from ancient Babylon. It seems there was a thief who was sentenced to be executed in a most painful manner. He told the king that if given one year he could teach the king's horse to sing his favorite song. The king granted him that year stay of execution and every day the thief was seen with the horse, singing and urging the horse to do so too. One day someone stopped and asked why he kept at it and the thief replied, 'It can't hurt. A year is a long time. I may die. The king may die. And who knows, the horse may learn to sing.'"

This brought a more natural smile from the girl. "I guess you're right. I don't suppose it can make things any worse."

Chris smiled at her. "That's right. I'm Chris, by the way."

Before he could say anything else she interrupted him. "You said we'd be strangers."

"OK, but even strangers can have first names."

Again another smile. "I guess so. I'm Amber."

"Well, Amber, my pretty stranger, would you like to tell me what has you so unhappy on such a beautiful day? Or not, as you please."

He saw her make a slight face at his comment. "I'm certainly not pretty right now - or probably at any time."

With a feeling strong enough to surprise himself, Chris broke in, "Yes you are. And I'm sure most of the time you are positively lovely."

She mumbled something to herself. Chris could not tell for sure but he thought what she said was, "Bullshit."

He quickly went on, "I can see that your world has some problems right now. Why don't you tell me a little about them? And maybe a little about yourself."

"OK, I guess I can." She stopped for a few seconds, obviously in thought. "I wonder just where to begin."

"At the beginning is always a good place, "Chris replied."

She smiled again, a real one this time. "That might take a long time. Let me see. OK, I was born at a very early age."

Chris laughed. "Well, maybe not quite that early a beginning. Just tell me a little about yourself and how you came to be sitting out here all alone."

"OK, seriously. This is my first term here, but I'm a junior. I had two years at a community college back home. I guess I need to go even a little further back than that. I was raised by my mother. My father died before I was old enough to remember him. We lived on a farm when I was born, or so I've been told, but after my dad died, mom couldn't keep it up by herself. I think she sold it before I was two."

"After all the debts were paid there wasn't much left and my mom didn't have any special skills. No one in either her or dad's family had ever gone to college or even learned any trade besides farming. Mom got jobs and did OK. She was a hard worker and tried to do as good a job as she could at anything she did. We never had a lot of money but we weren't dirt poor or anything. We got by. It wasn't easy but we came up with enough money to pay for my two years at a community college. Both she and I were determined that I would never end up in the fix she had that had trapped her."

"I knew we could never come up with enough money to pay for a Bachelor's degree but I was determined to get a degree in Geological Engineering." She gave a little laugh. "Instead of digging rocks out of a farm field, I thought maybe I could get paid for finding the right rocks to dig out. Most of the other girls in my junior and senior high schools thought they might get out of where they were by either marrying someone rich or becoming a top country singer. You know, Coal Miner's Daughter sort of thing. Well, I had always had an interest in science and liked what I knew of geology. I never wanted to work as a mining engineer, but maybe work at finding good sites for mines or wells or something."

"Anyway, between working and studying I knocked myself out for those first two years of school and managed to graduate with a 4.0. It took a lot of work but it also got me a scholarship here that pays all my tuition and enough to cover most of the dorm costs."

She went quiet once again, looking down towards her feet. Chris sat quietly, just waiting. At last she looked up and shook her head back and forth. "Sorry. I was just thinking about what might have been. Well, when I came here things went pretty well for the first couple of weeks. Then I got a call. My mom was in the hospital. I went home and found she had some kind of infection and nothing seemed to be helping it. She was very sick and I told her I would drop out of school and come back to take care of her. She nearly exploded, or as close to that as she could in the condition she was in. She told me in no uncertain terms that no matter what happened to her I was to stay in school. She wanted more than anything for me to get that degree and break free. In the end she made me swear I would continue and I was not even to come home if she died in the hospital. I came back to school and only missed two days."

She went silent once again and Chris waited. Once more she shook her head and continued. "Well, she did die in the hospital. They never discovered exactly what the infection was but when she knew she wasn't going to get any better she gave written instructions - a living will, if you want - that if she died she was to be cremated and I was not to be notified until afterwards. That is exactly what happened. When I got the news I could feel her looking at me and telling me to go on. Let go of the past and not to swerve from my chosen path, no matter what."

"I somehow managed to keep on track. I think it was knowing how much it meant to her but I stayed with my studies and was doing pretty well. Then two weeks ago - you know, when that flu bug was going around campus - I came down with it. I came down with it pretty badly and missed a week of class."

"But that wasn't the worst of it. We had midterms scheduled this past week and I had two on Monday. Neither of those professors would accept any excuse or delay and I had to take both tests without being able to study at all and still not quite recovered. Well, the long and the short of it is that I flunked both exams. My scholarship depends on maintaining a 3.5 GPA and mathematically there is almost no way I now can. That means I won't have money for tuition or room and board next semester. Even if I could find the money and if I have to retake those classes it will set me back a full year."

She became quiet again and after a minute or so Chris said, "I'm sorry to hear about your mom, I know that can be rough. Both my parents were killed in a car accident when I was seventeen. But you said there was ALMOST no chance of keeping your grades up enough. Does that mean maybe you can still do it?"

She gave a sardonic smile. "Mathematically, yes. In fact, I probably could spend most of my time studying, work like hell at it, and hold on. That is, if I could manage to study that much. Let me tell you a little about my dorm." She named the dorm and Chris immediately recognized it as the "party dorm" on campus. No serious student chose that one and the school often assigned the unfilled spaces to new transfer students.

Amber saw the look on his face and gave another sardonic smile. "I see you recognize the reputation. And I have two roommates who lead the charge."

"Couldn't you study in the library or someplace?" Chris asked.

"Maybe some of the time although I don't do well studying in places like that. I need to spread out my books all around me, as well as have my computer nearby. I have a desktop, not a laptop, so I can't take it around with me. Besides, the library closes at night and I'll probably need to get by on four or five hours of sleep the rest of the semester to have enough study time. I mean I really would need to ace every test and assignment until then to be able to pull this off. Not to mention I work fifteen hours a week. Otherwise I don't eat."

"What about a student loan or something? Have you checked on that?"

"Yes. Unfortunately all the funds are gone until next year. Oh, Chris, I'm not giving up. I'll still try, but I just don't see any way that's likely to work."

The two remained sitting, silent for several minutes. In the distance Chris could hear the sounds from the stadium as the game got underway. The sun had dropped down into the trees and when he glanced at his watch Chris saw that it was nearly four-thirty.

Finally he straightened up and looked over at Amber. She was sitting hunched over and staring down at the ground. He slowly reached forward and touched her chin, lifting it up with his hand until he was looking directly into her eyes. "Suppose for now we stop worrying about things and see if something comes to us. I suggest I take you to dinner. I have often found that when I feel overwhelmed, the world looks much better from around a steak."

This brought a smile to her face. "I don't want to waste any more of your time. I do feel a little better having talked about it. Besides, I don't think I've had a steak in six months. I'm lucky to afford beans and rice."

Chris looked directly into her eyes. "I don't consider the time a waste. And I didn't ask you to buy a steak. I'm asking you to dinner. I would really like it if you would come."

Amber returned his look for thirty long seconds. Examining his face she finally decided he really meant what he said. He wasn't just being nice. He really did want to take her to dinner. With everything else that had been going on she had had no real social life since she had arrived at school. She had been asked out several times but she was always so busy with work or study that she had never accepted. Now she realized she would get no study done tonight no matter what and she wasn't scheduled to work until tomorrow morning. Besides she hadn't had a real meal in a long time. At last she smiled at him, "If you really want to and aren't doing this just because you feel sorry for me, I accept. Thank you."

He smiled back and stood, reaching for her hand as she rose also. Taking her hand he led her back to the path and side by side they started down the trail to the edge of the woods. When they reached the road Amber said, "I should go back to the dorm and change." She looked down and added, "This isn't very formal wear."

Chris laughed and looked first at her and then down at himself. Both were wearing jeans and shirts and each had a light jacket. "As formal as what I'm wearing. Come on, this is a campus. No one will expect us to be dressed up."

She gave in and he led them towards the town adjoining the college campus. They walked for three or four blocks and then Chris turned her onto a side street and led her to the door of a small restaurant called Don Woods. "Ever eaten here?" he asked.

"No. I don't think I've even heard of it."

"I don't eat here all the time or anything, but I've always found that they have pretty good food."

They entered and were shown to a small table. When Amber started to take off her jacket, Chris reached to hold it and help her. Then he held her chair as she was seated. Amber was only a little surprised at this. In the small town where she had grown up, such actions were not too unusual. However, several of the other diners, somewhat older than the typical college students, noticed and looked slightly surprised. Chris didn't notice anything unusual at all.

They were handed menus and as they opened them to look, Chris said, "I was serious about the steak. Order anything that looks good to you. I'm going to have the tenderloin."

He sounded sincere and the prices were not really outrageous or anything, Amber decided. It did look good. "I think I'll have the same," she told him.

He smiled at her. "And of course salad and baked potato. I like mine with Thousand Island dressing and just butter."

Amber was feeling better and couldn't help teasing. "Thousand Island on a baked potato. I always have French myself."

Chris laughed. "Personal choice but I expect you have butter on the salad, don't you? And what do you drink with that?"

Amber laughed back. "What else would you put on a salad? I usually drink iced tea."

When the waiter came, and before Amber could say anything, Chris said, "The lady will have the tenderloin." He looked at Amber. "Medium rare?" She nodded. "Baked potato with butter and tossed salad with French dressing. Iced tea to drink." Amber smiled at him and nodded again. "I'll have the same except Thousand Island on the salad."

"Very good," the waiter replied. I'll get the drinks and salad right away."

When he had left, Amber looked at Chris. "Very good. Are you trying to impress me with all the politeness." Her tone made it clear she was only teasing slightly and was not in the least offended. Actually, Amber thought to herself, a lot of the women she knew would have been greatly offended, acting as though Chris had implied they were incapable of taking care of themselves. She didn't look at it like that at all.

"Not really," Chris replied. "It's just the way I was raised." Then he gave her a look and teased right back. "After all, I'm impressive enough just being myself." She gave a little laugh but thought to herself that yes, he had impressed her.

Their food came and as Amber took the first bite of the steak, finding it tender and wonderfully tasty, she thought that perhaps Chris had been right. By the end of the meal she was certain and told him so. The world did look better from around a steak.

They had talked a little during the meal but more about generalities than personal information. Still, both were finding themselves very comfortable with the other. Amber had relaxed a great deal and Chris could see a difference in how she held herself. He decided he had been right and she could be truly lovely. Her face was not the hard chiseled sculpture of a beautiful model nor quite that of the fresh faced girl-next-door. Still it was definitely a pretty face. Her hair was a lovely shade of deep brown with some red highlights and her eyes ... Chris had never seen eyes quite that shade. They were almost a golden brown with flecks of green, rather than the reverse. She was slim but not skinny. She would never be a playmate of the month but Chris had never liked overly large breasts on a woman anyway. Hers were not tiny by any means, but also looked to be rather firm. He couldn't tell for sure but didn't think she was wearing a bra and yet there was no sag visible. And her ass and legs looked to be world class.

Actually these observations were merely in the background. Chris had no intention of making a pass at her. She had needed a friend and he was happy to be able to fulfill that role, at least for a little while. He wished there was something he could do to help her out besides just buying her dinner. An idea - or more accurately, the hint of a possible idea - began to percolate below the conscious level in his mind.

jfremont
jfremont
336 Followers