Last week I announced the launch of Over the Peanut Fence: Scaling Barriers for Homeless and Runaway Youth. It is a hopeful book about adolescents overcoming childhood abuse and about professionals and volunteers who help street youth succeed. Following is a sneak preview from The Story of Zach, Chapter I.
The Story of Zach
Cory and I are life partners, sharing a home in Portland, Oregon. In 2011, I owned and operated Museum Tour, a national education supply catalog and Cory was employed in a handful of ventures that used his engineering and carpentry skills. Under our house in the woods, he set up a shop and outdoor area to carve totem poles and Northwest coast masks, which he sells to a burgeoning clientele. When not at work, I spent my hours painting in a sunlit studio located on the lower floor of our contemporary seven-level house. The two of us had few encumbrances as we freely traveled, worked and made art.
All that changed one blustery November day when Cory noticed a youth pass in front of his car while waiting for the light to change. When the boy stumbled, he caught Cory’s full attention, for he recognized Zach, whom he knew as a child from a troubled family who lived in his old neighborhood. Pulling over to greet the youth, Cory immediately saw that the lad was ill. Fearing pneumonia, he phoned me and after a short conversation we invited Zach for dinner in order to assess his well-being. Within an hour of his arrival and learning that he lived in shelters, we suggested he stay for a few days to be nursed back to health.
Zach quickly improved after sleeping in a comfortable warm bed and eating nutritious meals and by the end of the week was ready to return to the streets. Winter started early that year, the weather was wet and bitterly cold, and we were reluctant to send
him back only to become ill again. Zach appeared to be such a young, lost and confused youth that I felt tenderness for him.
It was an emotional week, for Cory and I were uncertain as to the role we wanted to play in his future. Friends feared for our safety and were quite worried about us getting deeply involved. A few neighbors watched Zach moving about our yard and called to warn us of a vagrant trespassing on our property, advising us to call the police.
Zach certainly looked like a street transient. I must admit to my middle-class bias in that I did not like his appearance. He wore ragged clothing and had plugs in his ears. His reddish hair was greasy, straggly and unkempt, and he gave off a strong body odor. He walked hunched over, with a shifty look in eyes that never seemed to focus. Zach’s appearance spoke emphatically of a downtrodden boy. Speaking softly when queried, his responses were a short yes, no, or I don’t know. Though we certainly tried, it was difficult to get a complete sentence out of him.
Knowing that he came from a family that pilfered from one another, we feared he might steal so when we decided to let Zach stay we kept a constant vigil as he moved about the house, insisting he go to his room when we went to bed. My purse was always stored safely in our bedroom at night. This decision proved wise, for we suspect he took money one time when it was unguarded.
Once Zach agreed to our conditions, which required a haircut and removing the plugs in his ears, we let him remain for the winter. Zach was not happy to lose his straggly locks, but we insisted that if he was going to live with us he had to look like he belonged to our family. We took him to Goodwill and Ross Dress for Less to be outfitted from his feet up. Zach needed everything from undergarments to jeans, a warm coat, gloves and hat.
House rules included a daily shower, cleaning his room, and making the bed. As time went by, a daily exercise routine was added, and Zach was occasionally asked to help with chores such as shoveling snow and chopping wood. Our goal was to break up the hours he spent lounging aimlessly around the house or watching television.
One activity he participated in without being asked pleased us greatly—he continued to attend a drug rehab program. Thankfully, Zach had never been addicted to opioid drugs but was a light pot, molly, meth and occasional shroom (psychedelic mushrooms) user. While he was enrolled in the drug program, we never worried about him backsliding, and our trust has since been rewarded. We were concerned about his finances, however, because he had a large fine for possession of marijuana that had to be paid to a municipal district, and we wondered how Zach was going to meet his obligation without an income.
We decided to lend him money to keep the judicial system from compounding interest, but he needed to find employment. Fortunately, I was able to help, for my catalog company was in the middle of its busy retail season, and we needed workers to ship warehouse products. It was easy to provide a six-week seasonal job, though to keep it, Zach had to pass a drug test and prove he could do the work. He was somewhat concerned about the test. When we discovered there was a pill he could take that would purge his body of narcotics, we took him to a head shop to purchase it. Before we spent a lot of money, the proprietor suggested Zach be tested and thankfully the results showed that he was clean. I was especially glad of the outcome because I was uncomfortable with the idea of helping him disguise an addiction. In addition to becoming an enabler, I would have been a hypocrite for ignoring my own employment requirements. to read on . . .
Currently available on Amazon in paperback and Kindle. Go to AMAZON.
Please rate on Amazon after reading to bring attention to the plight of homeless youth.
Internationally in bookstores and other internet sites April 22nd.
For speaking engagements contact eichingerbooks@gmail.com.
