There Is Always Hope

Jackie Joy didn’t know where to go or how to get her next meal. Tear streaks from various days, now ordinary to her, created a tree bark timeline on her cheeks. She had lost her way; her age, gender, depth of thought, and will to live had escaped in the middle of a night she could not remember with life’s goals and dreams tucked and folded sweetly in a briefcase she had never seen.

It was cold tonight. Hunger filled her stomach with pain instead of food as she walked aimlessly looking for warmth. She clicked a pen she found on the ground. It was black and gold and heavy in her hand. Something about it seemed familiar and safe.

She wandered into a big, smooth, and freshly painted parking lot. It was nice to walk on with bare feet and fumes from the tar still lingered, tickling her nose. She looked up to a warm red building with glossy white letters. Memories of school shopping trips and scavenging for art supplies flitted and stroked her mind. It felt like home but she couldn’t pull the memories into view.

Motivated by a sense of normality she went to the door and they opened automatically making her feel welcomed. Bowing to the doors with respect she entered, twirled, and looked around. Childhood faintly danced around the aisles asking mom for a new journal or pen. Beautiful notebooks were still displayed on well lit shelves. She felt the need to touch them, open their covers, scribble on their pages, and carve her name into the soft blank white like she had done daily so many years ago. Caressing the covers she thought, “Maybe I’ll just take one...” and settled her fingers around the thin binding of a little black book. With movements like silk she slipped the book in hand under her jacket, turned to leave, and stepped into an employee.

“JJ! Is that you?”

Though she had no immediate memory of JJ, or the man in front of her, somewhere where the memories danced she still knew Jared's face. He was round and warm and kind. She felt the need to explain herself, not from fear of finding trouble (jail had food), but because he looked happy when he saw her and she didn’t want to ruin that.

“I-this, I was just leaving.”

“What's in your hand?” he asked.

“It’s... Well, I’m not taking it. It's mine. I was comparing it. To see if I wanted the same size for my next one.”

"That’s not yours, is it?”

“I’m sorry.” She admitted and gave him the book. His face twisted in thought.

“It’s not yours yet. But it will be.”

"I don’t have any money.”

“I’ll buy it for you. I can't let you take it, but you're not leaving without it. Come on.”

He walked her up to the cashier and took out his wallet.

Jackie Joy had long grown numb to the sting of handouts and was usually quite fierce when it came to asking. This time however, a slow ache crept up her heart and into her cheeks, stealing blood from fingertips that tried to steal a book. As they exited she turned to see him picturesque with the little black book in hand and a small smile. This wasn't embarrassment; she wanted to stay with him.

“Here.” he said, “Draw for me like in Highschool. Those were the best. I still have some silly drawings like penguin chefs and military doughnuts, though you’re much more sophisticated now, aren’t you?” he winked at her and made her laugh.

“How do you remember?"

He laughed like church bells. “I have my reasons. Come back tomorrow? I’ll buy us sodas and take my break with'ya.”

“I’d like that.”

She left with a smile. Warmth spread to her stomach like thick syrup and cradled it without pain for a while. Eventually it rumbled again and she saw tonight would be another of pre-chewed goods from the dumpster.

Sitting down under a flood light she took the black and gold pen in her hand and opening her heart she drew for hours. This beginning was like most; aimless and lost, but morphed into focus, precision, meticulous detail, and fantastic memory. When she finished she held the drawing back and smiled at the Jared she had just created. He smiled sweetly, book in hand like before, but the name tag had no name. “Hero” she wrote and whispered to him, "You’re my hero."

The next afternoon she arrived in hopes of a soda after someone stepped on her while not paying attention. They walked outside into cold winds with cold sodas but Jackie was burning with anticipation. She handed Jared her book slowly. Gingerly he opened the cover and his eyes grew red from emotion.

"JJ, you're amazing." he whispered.

A familiar lump nestled in her throat and used her voice box as a pillow.

“It’s actually good?”

“It’s amazing! I'm looking in a mirror! I'm gonna post this. Can you draw again tonight? I have a good feeling about this.”

Jackie shyly nodded. Jared took a picture and went inside. Hyped on sugar and happiness, she sat near a restaurant, hoping to get leftovers to quell the bubbling soda and butterflies in her stomach.

That happiness was short lived. One person spat and judged her for “buying soda”. Another flipped a nickel at her. She found normal life harder to swallow after Jared treated her like an equal.

A woman encircled by children exited the restaurant. They stopped and Jackie moved to let them pass. The lady spoke Spanish to a little boy holding leftovers. He walked towards her and said,

“For you, Mamá's been there.”

Jackie now had her next hero.

When she met Jared for his break the next day he showed her the post's results. Underneath comments praised her art as far as they could scroll and made her smile. She showed him the takeout box family; the little boy with a "Hero-of-the-Day'' shirt and mother sporting a "Hero" purse. Jared nodded earnestly and took another picture.

After nine posts they received this message:

“Dearest JJ, I am extremely impressed with you. Let me know if you're interested in selling. Have a fabulous day.

~Michael”

"But they're just little notebook pages. What if he's disappointed?"

"Then we'll promise him bigger pages. Don't you see? You got talent!"

"I got talent." She grinned, danced, wiggled her hips, and squawked with laughter.

Jared and Michael made plans to meet in the parking lot after work.

“Do you think he’ll buy something?” she doubted while they waited.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he bought the whole notebook!”

“Then first thing I buy is gonna be another one. And second thing'll be the first one back from you.”

"You can’t buy something that's already bought!”

"I wanna pay you back for saving me.”

“JJ, you saved me when I was hiding from bullies and you saw me. You demanded to know why I was crying and when I couldn’t answer you said, 'Okay, go on then. I got something to show you.' when I asked what it was you said, 'I gotta make it first.'. You sat with me and started to draw. It felt like forever but when you tore out the page for me I looked at it and thought, 'Wow, that wasn’t so long for a masterpiece.'"

He pulled out a manila envelope from his messenger bag and handed her a decrepit piece of paper. This drawing revived Jackie and her memory of the day they met became as vivid as her art. His drawn face looked up at her with swollen cheeks and wrinkles unfitting for his youth. Her lifelike hand held a book titled There is Always Hope.

An expensive black car interrupted their moment. A towering man stepped out with diamond studs in each ear, barbered black mustache and beard, waxed head, and short shining nails on beefy hands. He stretched and caressed his nice black suit flowing with silver pinstripes; the epitome of class and elegance. His air gave her a potent whiff of importance and she instinctually stood up.

“Are you who I'm looking for?” The stranger uniquely greeted.

“I believe so.” Jared said standing.

“Let’s get to business. Nice to meet you. I’m Michael.”

“I’m Jared and this is Jackie Joy.”

“Jackie, I have seen tremendous talent online but your story is breathtaking. May I see your work?”

Suddenly Jackie became overwhelmingly embarrassed of her filthy black notebook. Jared intrusively opened her jacket and reached where she kept it lodged. Michael touched the pages wrinkled by body odor with no hesitation. Disgust was forbidden when it came to Michael studying art. In his eyes the book was wrinkled with promise and fortune. He cracked through the pages of everyday heroes and on the last he whispered, “Gallery.”.

“What was that?” Jackie burst.

“I’ll take them with the promise of more. How much do you want for them?”

Jackie blew out wind and couldn’t bring in more.

“I apologize, that's silly considering your circumstances. How's this: I have an art studio you can stay in for a week while I'll test your artistic capabilities. If I like what I see we'll discuss a future. If I don't, well, I would love to help you but I need to benefit from the situation. Groceries, a haircut, and art supplies will be covered as well.”

“Me?” Jackie said in disbelief.

“I'll tell you a secret, darling: Everyone wants to be special and you, with so little, are remembering ordinary people as heroes. Life is about finding beauty all around you, even in the glistening edges of your shattered heart, and you sweetheart, are entirely made of edges.”

Michael ushered them into the car while Jared found coverage for work. The experimental week went by with blistered hands, hot showers, warm meals, awkwardly romantic encounters, fresh sweat and tears, and elevated artistic power. Jackie Joy was a creative madhouse. Motivated by a purpose in life she surpassed every test of ability thrown her way. At the end of the week it was time to talk.

Michael poised himself on a barstool and stated, “Brilliant. You are everything I wish I was. JJ you’ve got it and I’ve got you. Let’s talk about a full scale gallery with your original notebook as the centerpiece.”

“But it’s not filled.”

“Then fill it honey. It’s gonna sell. We’ll start at a 10 grand and take the best bid.”

Jackie shook her head. “You’re making a fool out of me.”

“JJ, you can do it. Look around at what you’ve created in just a week. I've never seen someone work so hard in my life.” Jared encouraged.

“10 grand, I can’t believe it.”

“Believe it and get over it because we have work to do. It’s not going to be easy but we can swing it. If you agree, I’ll have my assistant whip up a contract.”

The opening night of the gallery Jackie felt like an imposter wearing a costume. Styled hair, painted nails, and brushed teeth did little to cover the leather texture of her skin. A dress hung oddly on her hunched shoulders. After years dreaming of good shoes she found her callused feet more comfortable barefoot than in fashion boots despite the cold.

“You ready?” Jared asked shyly.

Jackie nodded and started for the door. Catching her hand Jared squeezed gently and she turned.

“I love you JJ.” he said bluntly.

“I love you too, Jared.” she sputtered. He hugged her tightly, squeezing the air out of her as he did so. Finally letting her go, they both swallowed air and laughed heartily.

“Ready now, love?” he tested.

“Definitely, probably.” she determined.

They held hands, walked through the door, and into their future. That night Jackie’s small black notebook sold for $20,000, exceeding all predictions and expectations, just like Jackie.