The Thursday Night Club (6 page)

The college cafeteria was decorated for the holidays, everything covered in red and green. Kevin stood tall at a podium in the middle of the dining room, addressing a small audience of scholarship sponsors and supporters. “Not long ago,” he began, “I was inspired by the generous spirit of my late friend, Jesse Cabral, to make a positive difference in this world. As a poor kid who has struggled to fund my own way through college, I decided that I wanted to establish a scholarship…enough money for some kid to go to school. Not a hand out, but
a hand up.
” He took a deep breath and nodded before continuing, “…with the expectation that each recipient will pay it forward when they are in the position to do so.” He looked up from the podium and scanned the smiling crowd before him. “The support I received was overwhelming and my dream of creating one scholarship ended up becoming two, with enough annual pledges for two scholarships each year going forward.”

Applause echoed through the room.

Kevin continued. “I can also see the potential for this one inspired idea to keep growing and increasing until we can help lots of kids get into college…good students that may not have had the opportunity otherwise.”

The applause grew louder.

“I’ll be spending much of my free time during the spring semester reviewing applications for the first two
Hand Up Scholarships
,” Kevin said, wearing the biggest smile. “And I can’t imagine anything that would make me happier.”

The applause reached a spine-tingling volume. Kevin fought back his emotions. He was overjoyed.

After enjoying a potluck dinner, everyone prepared to leave. Professor Wishart, a respected faculty member, approached Kevin. “People are going to remember your name around here, Kevin Robinson,” he said with a wink.

“Nope. I’m just the messenger,” Kevin said. “It’s the name Jesse that people need to remember.”

The wise man nodded. As he turned to walk away, he stopped. “Just make sure you select recipients who are worthy of this extraordinary gift,” he said.

“I will,” Kevin promised, “because we need this to spread like some inspired wildfire.”

Ava finished the final edit on her human interest piece,
Life on the River
, and wondered how Mrs. LeComte would react to her story being told. She’d spent ten times the effort on that one piece than any college reporter would have ever bothered. But it was a one-shot deal for both her and Mrs. LeComte.
I need to get it right
, Ava decided. Even Izzy pretended to complain about all the time Ava spent on the computer.

Ava finally turned it in. The editor called two days later. “Not a bad piece for your first,” he said. “I had to make the usual changes though.”

“Thanks,” Ava told him.

There was a pause. “Listen, if you’re looking to write some more, I have plenty of work that I need to assign,” he offered.

“Thanks,” Ava told him, “I’ll have to check my schedule to see what I can fit.” It was the best way she knew of saying she had no further interest.

“Fair enough. Just let me know,” he said before there was a dial tone.

It was a random Tuesday morning when Ava picked up a copy of the college newspaper,
The Fighting Eagle,
and flipped through it. Her spirit soared. The piece was buried on page seven, but its placement didn’t matter. She grabbed ten copies and raced off to the Rolling Hills Retirement Home to share it with Mrs. LeComte.

Ava sat on the edge of the old woman’s bed and took a deep breath. “Life on the River,” Ava read and was surprised when her eyes started to swell with tears.

Mrs. LeComte grabbed Ava’s hand and nodded for her to continue.

“On the twelfth of May, a baby girl was born to proud parents in Fall River, Massachusetts. Little did they know—Marie LeComte’s life would be an amazing one…”

Mrs. LeComte began to cry. “Oh sweetheart,” she whimpered and squeezed Ava’s hand.

Ava studied the woman’s face for a moment. “Should I continue, Mrs. LeComte?”

“Oh yes…please do,” the woman said before closing her eyes—to bask in the details of her existence on earth.

A week before Christmas, Professor McKee happened by the front porch and asked, “So none of you are going home for the Christmas break?”

Kevin, Ava, Randy and Izzy all shook their heads. “We’re staying here,” Randy announced.

“With Jesse,” Ava added.

The teacher smiled. “That’s what I figured,” she said and walked away.

Each of them wrote home, letting their families know that they were going to spend this last Christmas at college together. In lieu of gifts, they requested decorations and food.

Izzy’s dad surprised them by bringing up a real blue spruce pine tree; he left it in the tree stand on the porch with a note:
Merry Christmas, guys. As you share the spirit of the holidays together, let it heal you.

Ava’s parents sent a supermarket gift card for two hundred dollars with a note:
For food only, please.

“We will, Mom,” Ava announced aloud and laughed. “We’ll use whatever cash we have for beer and wine.”

Kevin’s family sent a care package with enough sweets—minus the fruitcake—to cause the early onset of diabetes.

Professor McKee also left a box of canned food on the porch. The note read,
Consider it a small visit from karma.

Randy’s parents shipped a huge box of old Christmas decorations to the boys’ apartment. When Randy lugged it over to the front porch, all four of them sifted through its contents. “Looks like someone saved a trip to the landfill,” Kevin teased.

Randy nodded. “To you, maybe,” he said, “but my entire childhood is in this box.” He began pulling out one item after the next and his eyes were set on fire. “Every Christmas since I was a baby…” he mumbled.

The rest of them shared some discreet smirks, while allowing Randy his moment of nostalgia.

From tangled strands of lights that intermittently worked to crocheted red and green afghans that smelled like moth balls, there was a little bit of everything in the massive box. A huge plastic poster of Santa Claus was attached to the back of a creased cardboard fireplace, which probably looked pretty nice the first fifteen years it was used. But that was at least ten years ago. A box within the box revealed faded and chipped ornaments. Several unused boxes of tinsel lay at the bottom, along with a porcelain Christmas tree—illuminated by multi-colored lights. Kevin became excited when he saw it; he yanked it out of the box and hurried to plug it in. “It works,” he said.

“And it’s ugly,” Ava said.

“It sure is,” he admitted, “but it’s also rare.”

“What?” Randy asked.

Kevin nodded. “I’ve seen them online and they’re worth money now.” He looked at Randy. “Unless you’re attached to it, we could—”

“—put it on eBay,” Randy finished for his friend. “It obviously means more to me than my parents.” He grinned. “And the beer means more to me than the porcelain tree.”

Everyone laughed, while Izzy and Ava positioned the twinkling ceramic tree for a photo to place on eBay.

Staying up late into the night, they transformed Izzy and Ava’s apartment into a magical—although poor—wonderland.

On Christmas Eve, as the snow began to fall, all four friends passed beneath a deformed, plastic ball of mistletoe to gather together on the porch. The girls claimed the glider, while the boys dragged their chairs against the apartment’s faded clapboard, where they could bury themselves under the same blankets they usually made fun of. With the window open, it was Randy’s turn to have his cell phone’s play list plugged in. He chose to remain on memory lane with a play list that included Nat King Cole, Dean Martin, Elvis Presley and every other artist that his parents forced him to listen to as a boy—but whom he’d since missed.

At one point, Ava slapped the iPod, shutting it off. For a long while, the four sat together in silence—listening to the frozen wind caroling through the icicle-draped trees. The white ground blended beautifully with the gray sky, broken only by the soft light being emitted from windows up and down both sides of the desolate street as families celebrated in their own ways and traditions.

In the silence, Kevin whispered, “I really miss Jesse.”

“Me too,” Ava said, her voice choked with emotion.

As though he were going to speak, Randy took a deep breath. But he only exhaled, his feelings betrayed in a wounded sigh.

Izzy shook her head. “But he’s with us,” she whispered, tears glistening in her eyes. “Can’t you feel him?”

Ava grabbed her friend’s arm and held on tight. “I do,” she said. “I really do.”

“Me too,” Kevin said.

Randy nodded. “But not just here,” he said. “Not just now.” He took another deep breath, trying to compose himself. “I feel Jesse with me in everything I do.”

“Me too,” Kevin repeated. “And this may sound crazy, but I’m always asking myself
what would Jesse think
before I do pretty much anything.”

Through her sniffles, Izzy laughed. “That’s not a bad compass to use,” she whimpered.

“I know,” Kevin agreed. “I feel blessed to have him with me.”

“Me too,” they said in chorus.

For a moment, they sat in silence together—until Ava whispered, “Merry Christmas, Jesse”—as though he were sitting right there beside them.

One by one, the other three echoed the same.

And in response, the icy wind sang through the frozen pines.

When they finally sat to eat, the girls ensured that a place was set for Jesse at the head of their humble table. No one even considered claiming the seat.

The following night, in the bitter cold, the four friends bundled up and returned to the front porch. It seemed appropriate to present the tally of deeds to Professor McKee, their only witness and judge.

“When we graduate in the spring, I’ve heard that the college is honoring Jesse with a Bachelor’s degree,” Izzy said.

“Well, it’s only right,” McKee said, nodding. “Though they won’t be honoring him nearly as much as you guys have.”

Kevin cleared his throat. “This may sound strange, but this contest to honor Jesse’s memory has become just as important to me as graduating in the spring.”

“That doesn’t sound strange at all,” McKee said. “In a way, you’ll all be graduating twice.”

They awaited an explanation.

“In the spring, you’ll all be graduating from higher education,” she said, “but tonight…tonight, you’re graduating from childhood into an adult life of caring and compassion.” She took a deep breath and sighed. “I spend hours filling your heads, trying to prepare you for that big bad world out there. But as I think about it, I’ve only told my own children three things: have the courage to be who God made you to be; take responsibility for your life—whether it’s happiness or misery, it’s your choice; and if you work hard enough and never lose faith, dreams really do come true.” She smiled. “And I’ve watched each one of you do exactly that for weeks now.”

“We’ve definitely tried our best,” Randy said proudly.

Professor McKee shook her head. “No, you’ve done more than
try
, Randy,” she said and then searched each of their eyes. “You guys went out into the world and did it! You took action, real positive action, and there are already many lives that will never be the same again because of it.”

The four friends couldn’t wipe the smiles from their faces.

“So let’s hear it,” McKee said. “Let’s hear about all the amazing things Jesse inspired you to do.”

Izzy stepped forward first. “Well, I ran a book drive for four weeks to raise money and collect books for adult literacy.”

Ava cleared her throat to report more, but Izzy quickly gave her the evil eye and a subtle shake of the head. The others picked up on it, but never questioned it. Professor McKee grinned. Ava’s eyes filled with proud tears for her friend, while she kept their secret.

“All together,” Izzy said, “I raised thirty two hundred dollars, more boxes of books than I can count and a local library connection that should generate free books for years to come. More importantly, I raised tons of awareness and even recruited a few serious volunteers who will be getting involved.”

“So you’ve already gathered a following,” McKee noted. “Good for you, Izzy. Jesse would be proud.”

Izzy nodded and the first tears streamed down her cheeks. “I can’t even begin to explain everything I’ve learned over the past few weeks, but it’s amazing to me how fortunate…” she paused, “…and guilty I feel for having everything I have.”

The rest of them agreed.

As though they were in class, Professor McKee turned to the others. “Randy, I think we all know that you were responsible for saving one of our freshmen from a brutal sexual attack.”

Randy smiled coyly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said, “though I did hear that some known rapist was stopped before he could take another victim.” He grinned wider. “The police think it’s enough to put him away for a long time.”

“That’s our Crime Fighter,” Kevin teased.

“You mean our Super Hero?” Ava corrected him.

While they all laughed, Professor McKee stared at Randy. “Good for you,” she said.

Randy shook his head. “I guess I want to help people because there was a time in my life when I was bullied.” He pointed to Kevin. “After Kevin’s gorilla stunt, I realized that the campus police are incredibly understaffed and that we have a responsibility to look after ourselves.” He shrugged. “Protect our own, you know?”

They all nodded.

“So I’ve spent the last few weeks establishing a campus crime watch that will be run by students next year,” he added. “Hopefully, it’ll be in place for years to come.”

The wise professor nodded. “Goodness,” she said. “To think of all the people you may be saving from becoming victims.”

While Randy blushed, Kevin proudly added, “Not bad for a communications major.”

Randy chuckled. “And therein lies the challenge. I’ve already decided to take Criminal Justice courses next year so I can graduate with two majors.”

“You what?” Izzy asked, shocked. “You’re staying for a fifth year?”

Randy smiled. “I am.”

“No radio internship?” Kevin teased.

Randy laughed. “I’m not sure what I’ll do when I graduate…maybe join the campus police, military service, or even municipal law enforcement. Whatever it is, thanks to Jesse I know I’ll be serving a purpose much bigger than just myself from here on.”

“Incredible,” Professor McKee sighed and then turned to Ava. “And you, Ava?”

“I’ve been volunteering with the elderly,” Ava said nervously. “Though it’s not as important as what Randy’s done.”

“I’m sure it is to them,” Professor McKee interrupted.

Ava smiled proudly. “This may sound weird, but it’s not about anything I’ve done or am doing. In fact, I don’t have to
do
anything. I just need to be with them, so they know they’re not alone in this world and that another human being cares.” She looked at Professor McKee, her eyes filled with gratitude. “It may not mean a lot to most people, but Professor McKee’s right; it means everything to each of them and that makes it worth every second I spend.”

In that moment, McKee became teary-eyed. “Brilliant!” she said. “I can’t tell you how proud I am right now.” She took a deep breath to retain her composure. “And how proud Jesse must be, looking down on you guys right now.”

“He’d better be,” Izzy joked.

All four laughed—wiping away more happy tears.

Without waiting to be called, Kevin stepped forward. “As my friends know, I’ve pretty much had tobeg, borrow and almost steal to pay for college.” He shook his sorrowful head. “I realized when I was very young that without a secondary education, I’d never get the opportunities needed to climb out of poverty and create a better future for myself and my children, if I ever have any.” He took a deep breath and turned to face Professor McKee directly. “I was raised by my grandparents, who created miracles by keeping food on the table and a roof over our heads. I always felt ashamed that we had nothing, but the older I got the more I realized that life was all about creating our own circumstances.” He shook his head. “The same people who look down on kids from the ghetto could never even dream of ways of getting out themselves…especially at eighteen years old.”

“So what kind of miracle were you inspired to perform over the past few weeks?” Professor McKee asked.

“All I did was ride my bike from Boston to the tip of the Cape,” Kevin replied.

“Is that all?” Randy teased.

Kevin smiled. “And with some very generous sponsors, I’ve been able to create some awareness of the problem, as well as two annual college scholarships for impoverished, inner-city kids—” He got choked up and needed to stop for a moment. “—so that they’ll also have a shot at college and a decent life.” As soon as Kevin finished, he was overcome with emotion and began to cry.

His friends joined him and they all began to sob. With incredible love and respect, Professor McKee quietly looked on.

“I don’t mean to get all emotional on everyone,” Kevin managed between sobs, “but it’s just that I’m so grateful to Jesse for—”

“—for the greatest gift anyone can receive,” the teacher interrupted, “…a purpose.”

The four friends were in awe at the miracles taking place in their lives. The emotions were overwhelming.

“So how do you pick a winner,” McKee asked, “when each of your deeds has been hugely impacting to the people whom you’ve touched?”

They each shrugged.

She searched each of their faces. “So that’s it then?” she asked. “The contest is over?”

“Nope,” Randy said, sniffling. “As far as I’m concerned, it’s just gotten started.”

They all nodded in agreement.

“I was thinking the same thing,” Izzy said. “The way I see it, it’ll take
a hundred
Christmases to bring Jesse’s memory the honor it deserves and—”

“—and carry on his torch of kindness,” Kevin added, nodding. “Yup, a lifetime wouldn’t be long enough.”

Ava smiled at her friends. “But four lifetimes might,” she whispered.

They all smiled.

“It seems to me that you’ve all won,” Professor McKee said.

Ava grabbed the glass jar containing the four quarters. “But we still need to decide who walks away with the winnings,” she said.

While Izzy wrapped her arms around Ava’s shoulder, Professor McKee spent a moment in thought. She winked at Ava. “Since any one of you could take the pot, why don’t you just flip for it?”

They each grabbed a quarter.

Kevin announced, “On three, we all flip. Heads side-up stays in.” He smiled. “One, two, three…”

They all flipped. Kevin and Ava were out in the first round.

Izzy and Randy flipped again. As their coins settled, Randy yelled, “No!”

“Sorry, Rockin’ Randy,” Kevin teased.

Smiling, Randy picked up the quarters and handed them to Izzy. Ava smiled at the irony.

Izzy held the four coins for a moment before sliding them into her pocket. Hugs were then exchanged all around, with Professor McKee joining in. “Congratulations,” she said, “and Merry Christmas.”

Izzy was walking down the sidewalk, talking on her cell phone. “I don’t know what Randy’s planning, Ava,” she said. “All I know is that he’s been dying to even the score with Kevin ever since that radio station prank and I don’t want to miss it.” She listened and laughed. “Okay, I’ll see you there.”

Two blocks later, she approached one of Kevin’s new friends—a homeless man. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the four quarters. Looking around to ensure no one was watching, she dropped the money into the man’s paper cup.

“God bless you,” the poor soul whispered.

“No,” Izzy said, shaking her head. “God bless Jesse.”