Hope | Previous Challenge Entry

how it works

TITLE: Hope | Previous Challenge Entry
By Michael Throne
04/21/11
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It wasn’t always this way.

I drive beneath the stars, less than a quarter tank left, and I still don’t know where I’m going. I’d pray for a gas station, but it’s moot; I don’t have any money either.

There are those who weren’t paying attention, who bought everything and worried about paying sometime down the road. I wasn’t one of them.

I drive another mile, then pull into a truck stop, just to get some rest. I’ve been three weeks on the road, searching for work, but finding only rejection time and time again.

I washed a truck for cash yesterday. I sent a twenty to my wife, but even when I did, I knew it was foolish. That was seed money, gas money, money to get me started somewhere, and now I’m busted.

I’m an idiot.

But not really. More than anything, I guess it was hope I was sending them. Right now, hope’s all we have.

I park behind a late model Lexus.

My friends back home, they’re waiting it out. They drink beer and rant about
the government; unemployment’s run dry for most of us. I almost ended up waiting too long, myself. Everyone was so sure the factory would reopen. It’s easy to fall for another man’s certainties.

I push the seat back and try to sleep but can’t. I get out and sit on the curb next to my car.

The Lexus is white; it’s a nice one. But who buys a Lexus in times like these? I wonder if he worked hard for it or had it given to him. I wonder if he stole it, conning people like my friends into buying things they couldn’t afford, making promises for them that he knew they could keep.

I hate him. I do.

I throw pebbles on the ground and force my bitterness back down. I know better.

There was a time, not so long ago, when we were all working fifty hour weeks; we were all making money. Despite the good times, most of us went deeper and deeper into debt. It was just never enough, this greed.

But not me. I knew that times were good. Something about life just shouted it out, or maybe the Lord whispered it in my prayers.

I bow my head. Perhaps the Lord will whisper something now, as well.

I praise Him; I thank Him; I ask for His blessing. I ask for something, anything to get through. I ask Him to make me a better person. I ask Him for hope.

I say amen, and open my eyes, and before me is the white Lexus, confronting me. I hesitate, but I know what I must do. Bowing my head once again, I ask for His blessing on the owner. I ask it, not because he needs it, but because I do, because of my anger and pride.

I open my eyes and stare up at the stars, waiting for the inevitable. God’s teaching, my learning, and the sustenance He provides.

A man walks toward the Lexus. He’s dressed in khakis and a casual shirt; he could be me on a Sunday morning. I’m unshaven and unkempt.

Never in my life have I begged. Never.

We stare at each other as he approaches.

I can’t believe what I have to do.

“Brother…,” I say.

He stops in front of his car, ten feet from me. He opens his door.

“I hate to ask you…but could you spare some money? Maybe a five? I need gas to find a job.”

He looks me over.

This recession has been going on too long. Everyone’s heard the stories from the con artists, the bums.

I try to hold his gaze, but I can’t. My eyes drop in shame. I look away, allowing him to get in his car and drive off.

But he doesn’t.

He steps forward. “Here.” It’s a twenty.

I try to thank him, but my voice doesn’t work. I nod to him.

He waves as he drives away.

I gaze at the twenty in my hands, amazed. I want to frame it, this paper hope, like stores do their first dollar. It’s a gift, a gift from God, at just the right moment.

I sit back in my car and stare up through the windshield at the stars.

I thank the Lord and ask for a blessing upon my family.

Then I remember; they’re about to receive one.

Blissfully, thankfully, I drift asleep.

Praise the Lord.

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