I was able to survive because of the things Andrea had taught me. I got back on my feet because I still had my father. Those other kids weren’t as lucky. By the time I got back to them, a lot of them had died or were already in jail. Some of them had simply disappeared and no one knew what happened to them. There were new kids, and I took them in.
They live here now.
“They have roofs over their heads. They have food on their table, a good portion of which they grow themselves. They have teachers who give them lessons on math, how to read and write, how to play sports, how to play musical instruments, how to paint – whatever interests them. There’s a doctor who comes once a week. And of course, just like in camp, they have fun. They have a campfire with music and games once a month.”
Jodie nods. “That sounds wonderful. Like a paradise. I’m sure the kids want to stay here forever.”
“Some of them want to,” I say. “Some of them have bigger dreams, which they’re free to pursue.”
“So they can leave anytime?” Jodie asks me.
“Anytime. They’re not prisoners here.”
The fact that this camp is on a mountainside discourages many from leaving.
“This is just a place for them to heal, to figure out what they want to do in life,” I add. “Or just somewhere where they can experience childhood and grow up without worries like they’re supposed to. Somewhere they can feel safe.”
“A home,” Jodie says in an admiring tone. “That’s what you’ve given these kids. A home and a family.”
I shrug. “I just wanted to do some good, even though I know that’s not going to make up for all the times I’ve screwed up. Hell, I’ve done some things I don’t have the right to ask forgiveness for. And every now and then, even though I try hard not to mess up, I still do. I’ll never be as good as Antonio or save lives the way he would have…”
“Stop.” Jodie places her hand on my arm. “You’re doing a lot of good here, Leo, and that’s something no one can take away from you.”
I look into her eyes. The kindness and understanding in them takes my breath away. My chest feels on the verge of caving in. I look away before I get the urge to kiss her. I focus my gaze on the camp, straighten my shoulders and grip the straps of my backpack as I put on a smile.
“So, do you want to meet the kids?”
~
“They’re incredible,” Jodie tells me when we finally get a break from the kids after lunch.
She takes a sip from her carton of juice as she sits on the grass by the lake. Her hair floats in the breeze.
“The young ones smile and don’t have a care in the world even though they’ve been abandoned, and the older ones, they’re so strong. Even though they’ve been through so much, they just keep going and keep hoping for a better life.”
“They are strong,” I agree as I cut off another slice of wood from the piece I’m whittling.
Probably stronger than I am.
“Especially Xavier,” I say, referring to one of the oldest boys who is turning seventeen soon. “His father sold one of his kidneys when he was only four.”
Jodie gasps in horror. “What?”
“His younger sister died of an overdose after mistaking his mother’s drugs for candy. After he ran away from home, he was picked up by this couple. God knows what they did to him. He still won’t say. I don’t know how he escaped, either, but he ended up on the streets and was nearly killed. In spite of all that, he’s still planning on leaving soon, going to college. He likes computers, so he wants to be a software engineer. He told me once that he wants to have a family of his own, too, and I really hope he will.”
Jodie nods. “Me, too. He deserves nothing but happiness in his future after his hellish past.”
“And Sabrina,” I bring up another child. “She wants to be a lawyer even though her foster parents’ neglect resulted in her blindness. That’s why I wanted her to meet you.”
“I’m glad I met her,” Jodie says. “I’m glad I met all of them. I just wish I could do more for them. It frustrates me that the law wasn’t able to protect them. Isn’t that what the law is supposed to be for?”
I shrug. “The power of the law lies in the people who enforce it, or choose not to.”
And when they don’t, other people are forced to take it into their own hands, like my father. What was that he used to say? That sometimes, men have to get their hands dirty in order to protect the innocent?