Solutions: A Dog's Dilemma by James Gerard (book suggestions .TXT) 📕

Rick lowered his head.  “I’ve read some, but I’m having trouble understanding.  I hate to say this, but God is just a word to me and Jesus is just a man hanging on a cross.”

“That is where you are wrong Rick.  If you did not know our Lord then you could not have understood how Marisol could say Grace.  He is in you too Rick.  He loves you just as much as anyone else.  He is here with you as he has and will always be.”

“But….”

“No, no buts.  You think you are here because you decided to come?”

Rick still could not understand, yet he witnessed what Marisol did.  He could not figure out that Marisol was understood by God, but somehow he knew God knew.  He felt overwhelmed with the thoughts running around in his head.

“I’m tired Sebastian.  Could we just get some sleep?

“Of course my friend.”

“Uhm, is there another cot in here?”

“Just the one,” answered Sebastian.

“Great.” Rick laughed.  “I came how many miles from where I slept on a sidewalk only to sleep on dirt.  I guess once a dog, always a dog.”

Sebastian got up from the cot and motioned to Rick, “Sleep on the cot.  I will sleep on the floor.”

“Come on, I didn’t mean it like that.  You’re no dog.”

“Yes, I know I am not a dog.  But that is the difference between us, is it not?   I know I am not a dog.  Take the cot.”

Rick smiled, slapped Sebastian on the back.

His body melted into the cot.  “Do you want to eat any of the food Sebastian?”

“I am too tired.  I will eat in the morning.”

“Same here.”

Rick closed his eyes and smiled.  The image of Marisol talking to God without a word being uttered was amazing.  “God knows,” he whispered then smiled.  “He really knows.”

 Rick was awakened by a soft light hitting his eyes.  He looked up to see Sebastian reading a book by the light of a small lantern.  The stiffness and soreness of the day’s previous labor was felt in the limbs that stretched out all about the cot.  He did not see any daylight and figured his internal alarm clock was sounding.  It had to be about five in the morning.  Thinking of the next trailer he rubbed his eyes and let out a sigh.

“Good morning.”

“That’s your opinion Sebastian.”

The food from the previous night still lay atop the table.  He took a good sniff at it, gently pinched and swirled around the surface of a piece of meat with fingertips, and listened to the answer.  The yes popped in his mind.  The food was under assault.

“Why are you eating that?” Rick heard, detected a tone of puzzlement.

“I’m hungry.”

“It may have spoiled.”

“Well,” Rick mumbled with a mouth full of food, “I’ll know in four to six hours.”  He picked up one of the plates and reached out to Sebastian, “Have some.”  But Sebastian just smiled as he shook his head no.

With a full belly Rick heeded the feeling of the morning ritual.  He opened the door to the outside and “No way,” he said with disbelief.

“Sebastian, come here,” he whispered.

“Yes.”

“What do those men have over there?”

“As normal, they are drinking coffee.”

A slow and barely detectable moan came from his mouth.  He sniffed the morning air, detected an aroma from a slight breeze sending that unmistakable smell his way.

“Will you go get me some?”

Sebastian smiled, “No.”

“Come on, please.”

“If you want it Rick, just walk over there and ask.”

“But….”

“Go ask Rick.”

Rick began his slow and steady shuffle towards the group of men.  He noticed all the heads of white hair and their ruddy countenances and heard whispered voices of a language he just did not know.  He could only think of how to ask.  Would they understand my sign language?  Do I just say it hoping one of them may know a little English?

As he moved in on the group one of the men looked up at him and smiled.  Rick stared at the sturdy kettle hovering just above the flames.  The steam was rising steady from the brew inside.  He looked to the man and motioned with a hand to mouth.  The old man smiled, tossed out the remnants of the brew from his tin cup and handed it to Rick.

The full aroma of the brew flooded the anticipation.  He carefully scooped out a cup full of coffee.  Another old man handed him a bowl of powder with a spoon resting on top.  Rick took a couple of teaspoons full of sugar and stirred the coffee.  “Ah,” followed the satisfying sip.   “If this ain’t the best cup of coffee I ever had.”

Rick just stood there in front of the men as they talked amongst each other.  A little laughter, a raised voice now and then, a little wagging of fingers made the conversation alive.  He gulped down the rest of the liquid gold and held the cup toward the old man.  The man just waved the cup off and pointed to the kettle.

As he was scooping out another cup, one of the old men pulled a pouch out of a shirt pocket.   A small piece of paper, cradled between the thumb and forefinger on one hand and with the other reaching into the pouch and bringing forth a pinch of leaves was a torturing sight.   Oh my God, Rick thought.  He stared intently at the man as he quickly rolled the paper into perfect smoking form.

The old man looked up.  As if he knew what Rick was hoping for the old man reached out and handed Rick the cigarette then produced a lighted match.  Rick puffed and puffed away at it.  Weakened knees and a sense of light headed delight delivered the fleeting pleasure known only by those who made it their habit.  He thanked the old men and strolled back to the shed.

Rick plopped back into the chair.  While slowly slipping coffee, inhaling drags of the sweet smoke, a wave of contentment overcame his thoughts.  He looked to Sebastian and realized he did not know a thing about him or any knowledge of his life outside the confines of the shed and the trailer.  He could attest to his work ethic, but that was about it.   He saw the kindness from within from his gentle demeanor, his soft countenance and gentle words, but too often he found these were signs of deception.

“Hey, Sebastian?”

“Yes Rick?” he responded with his eyes affixed to the book.

“Are you from here?”

“Santa Rosa?  No.”

“Then where are you from?”

Rick listened intently as Sebastian told him about himself and his family.  He learned many an odd thing about Sebastian.  His family was wealthy.  They owned a long established family business.  He and his older brothers had attended and graduated from the country’s most prestigious university, but was puzzled when Sebastian told him that he had left the family business to come here.  For his father was grooming both he and his brothers to one day take over the family business, but he let out to his parents that his heart was just not in it.

Rick could understand Sebastian’s current situation.  His intent with his education was aimed at politics.  He said he had studied diligently in all areas including perfecting his fluency in all forms of the English language; however, his heart lay with the struggles of people, not profit.  He had hoped to gain a position within one of the government agencies that aided the poor of the country, but his father would have none of it.  Family obligations were first.  In the end, according to Sebastian, his mother took charge over the matter and persuaded her husband to allow his son to follow his path to happiness now and then.

Rick could understand why Sebastian sought happiness, but he wondered how a rich kid expected to find happiness by subjecting himself to manual labor in such harsh conditions?  He decided to let sleeping dogs lie because Sebastian did not fit the mold of how a rich person lived his life, then again, he never did know.   He felt, as if by some miracle, he would just shut up and just accept Sebastian as he saw him.

Sunlight had been slowly creeping in the hut.  Now the sunlight fully illuminated the shed as it peered through the windows and vents.  The sight signaled Rick that it was time to go to work.  With Sebastian at his side they walked over to the trailers.  Once again a clattering door rolled its way up revealing the inner contents.

Rick sighed.  “Same mess as yesterday.”

“Would you like to switch today?” asked Sebastian.

“That’s okay.  We had a pretty good system going yesterday.”

Rick jumped into the back of the trailer.  The boxes, their shapes and weights and sizes were familiar.  As rick dislodged the first box from atop the first row and turned around to hand it off to Sebastian, a small pair of hands, the fingers just barely laying atop the back of the trailer, appeared.  He stared at the hands and slowly the person attached to the hands came in sight.  Rick smiled and waved at his little friend.

“Will her mom come screaming at me again?”

“I do not know,” said Sebastian as he pointed to a tree, “Go and ask.”

Rick saw Marisol’s mother standing by a tree, arms folded across her bosom, staring intently at him.  He jumped off the truck and took a step towards her, but the mother turned and walked away.  He thought it strange, figured it was okay because Sebastian was there.

“What does she want?” asked Rick while he stared down at Marisol.

“What makes you think she wants something?”

“She’s smiling.”

“So she is smiling.”

“Come on Sebastian, cut it out.  You know I don’t have any more of those treats.”

Sebastian just smiled.  “Rick, what makes you think she came here looking for food?”

Rick did not know how to respond.  He was used to life on the streets and just knew that when one of his peers came up to him it was either for a cigarette or change.  He was used to phony smiles, scams, lies, and false promises.

“What does she usually do all day?”

“While her mother goes out into the field to work she just stays inside and waits for her to return.”

“Waits?  She doesn’t play with any other kids?

“No.”  

“You mean she’s by herself all day?” asked Rick as he looked to Marisol while handing a box to Sebastian.

“Like a lot of the women around here she takes her work home.  Normally, her job is collecting good kernels from the corn left behind in the field so they can use them as seed for the next planting.  Marisol helps her.  She only leaves her for a short time.  Marisol finds ways to entertain herself when her mother is in the field.”

“I haven’t been paying attention too much, but it seems no one is going out into the fields.”

“This year the drought has been very bad.  The creek used for irrigation has dried up.  There has been no rain.  There has been little grown.  They have barely gathered enough for next season’s planting.”

“So in a normal year, she can’t