Head Over Heels. Gail Sattler
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stood. “A couple of the kids in my physics class are taking it at night. It’s four weeks, and it’s too expensive for my mom to pay for.” He glanced over at Russ. “Will he be able to teach this to us?”
“I think he’s going to teach it to me tomorrow, and then I’m going to teach it to all of you.”
Jason blinked. “You’re kidding. Right?”
Marielle watched Russ push the chair back and stand.
“That’s it for tonight,” he said. “But I’ll be back tomorrow to show you how to work some of these programs.”
Jason edged closer to Marielle. “It’s taking Josh and Sara four weeks to learn that one.”
Marielle gulped. “I’m sure it won’t take me that long.” She hoped…
Chapter Four
Marielle pulled into the church parking lot earlier than usual, but she was still too late. Another vehicle was parked in the otherwise empty lot. A shiny new SUV, something far more expensive than any of the other cars that would have been parked in this neighborhood.
She parked beside it, noting, as she got out and walked past, the blinking red security light, as well as the locking bar mechanism bolted to the steering wheel.
She almost felt like giving it a shove, just to see what happened. Almost.
Russ stood waiting for her at the basement door.
“You could have gone in through the front. I told Pastor Tom you were coming and what you looked like.”
“That’s okay. I didn’t want to start until some of the kids were here anyway.”
Marielle lowered her voice in case one of them came up behind her. “Don’t ever call them kids. They’re at that sensitive point where they’re too old to be kids, but not old enough to be young adults. Some of them have to make life-changing decisions, right now or soon, and I’m trying to guide them to make the right ones. I can’t do anything to jeopardize what they’re doing here.”
She wondered if it was her imagination, but she thought he cringed at her censure.
“I’m sorry. You’re right.”
She sighed. “I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. Let’s go inside.”
She began the process of unlocking the door while he stood behind her.
“I thought you said the pastor was here.”
“He is here,” she replied. “Sometimes his wife drops him off when she needs the car.”
She couldn’t help but sneak a glance at him over her shoulder. Just as she had suspected, he was checking out the old building.
What he saw wasn’t exactly pristine. The building had probably been impressive in its day, but now it was badly in need of repair. The church board had decided the pastor needed the money to live on more than they needed the building to look nice. The old stone front definitely could stand to be sandblasted, which they couldn’t afford. But because of a couple of volunteers, the brightly colored stained-glass windows on either side of the steeple were always washed and bright.
Yet still some of those beautiful windows needed work. A few of the glass pieces were scratched from vandals throwing stones, and the sills and edges were showing deterioration due to weather over the years.
The mechanism used to ring the old bell inside the tower hadn’t been functional for years, but because so many of the nearby residents didn’t attend church, the community had blocked all efforts the church board made to city council for funding to restore it as a heritage site.
The cement steps in the front had been chipped and broken in places, but that had been relatively easy for members of the congregation to repair, although the new cement didn’t match the original color or texture. The most important thing, though, was that the steps were safe. They were the only part of the building that met current earthquake standards. Still, Marielle thought the building looked stately, and respected it for its history.
Where they were now entering, however, wasn’t so regal. Like the rest of the humble neighborhood, the back of the church, where no one of importance usually ventured, wasn’t kept up. The windows were too high to be reached with ease—except by a special extended ladder—so they weren’t washed, and no one cared about the lower windows leading to the basement. The original back door had been made of wood, but many years before Marielle started to attend that church, vandals had damaged it beyond repair. Now a stark metal door, layered with different colors of paint to cover graffiti, took its place.
Just as Marielle pushed the big door open, Russ turned and looked at her car. “Are you going to get that roof fixed soon? I’d like to take care of it.”
“I don’t have time during the week. It will have to wait until the weekend. One of the parents of one of my boys works at an auto body shop. He said he’ll give me a good deal.”
“Okay.”
Once inside, Marielle locked her purse inside her desk and joined Russ at his former computer. “What do you have to do to it today?”
He turned in the chair in which he had seated himself, and she noticed that he winced with the movement.
“Not a lot. Today I’ll install the rest of the programs I brought, and then I’ll show you and everyone else how to use them.”
“I thought I should let you know, I don’t think I’m as good with computers as your boss thinks I am. My being here has more to do with my availability and willingness to do the job than my programming skills.”
“Apparently, I’ll be back tomorrow, but if you need more help we could get together on the weekend and I can give you a better tutorial.”
She had plans for the weekend with a girlfriend, but Marielle was almost sure that Lorraine wouldn’t mind. Lorraine understood what she was doing with the teen outreach program, even if she didn’t have time to participate herself. “That’s a great idea, thanks.”
Right on schedule, the teens began to arrive, starting with Jason, who was always the first. Marielle waited for fifteen minutes, and when all her core group was accounted for, Russ began installing the first program, showing everyone where to find the tutorials and help files.
This time, instead of standing back, Marielle stayed close by, also watching and learning. She wasn’t confident that she would be of much help if anyone needed anything, but she wanted to do her best when the time came.
“Hello? Russ? Are you in here?”
All heads turned toward the door to watch Russ’s boss enter.
“Grant? What are you doing here?”
Grant smiled. “I wanted to see the place, so I decided this would be a good time to bring a few more computers.”
“Now? You brought them already?”
Grant made eye contact with some of the bigger boys. “Yup. Four more are in my car. Who is going to help carry them inside?”
The teens made a beeline for the exit. The boys dashed outside after Grant; the girls stopped at the doorway to watch, whispered among themselves, then walked outside, too.
Which left Marielle and Russ alone in the room.
Russ ran his fingers through his hair as he stared at the empty doorway. “I didn’t expect this. I guess I won’t be installing the programs today.” He turned back to her. “The trouble is that I don’t know what’s been done and if they’re ready.”
The boys appeared through the door one by one, like a row of ants, each carrying either a monitor or a tower, the girls each carrying a keyboard and a mouse or bundles of cables. Grant brought up the rear, empty-handed. “That’s it for today,”