Her Kind Of Hero. Janice Carter

conversations, she always insisted.

       Then text, Mama.

      She’d waved a hand. Too much trouble. All those little buttons. And on it went, their endless debate that always made Rosie laugh and Matt raise his shoulders in exasperation.

      Matt tried again, getting through this time. There was a muffled hello, followed by a blast of static which he assumed came from Esperanza’s hand over the phone as she told Rosie—and likely the cabbie, too—that it was Mati on the line. Finally, his mother said, “We’re almost home, Mati.”

      “How did it go? What did the doctor say?”

      The silence told him more than Esperanza did. “We’ll talk about it later. Come for dinner. I made posole this morning.”

      She didn’t need to dangle his favorite soup to get him home for a meal this time. Whatever news she had was best heard face-to-face.

      “Okay, Ma, I’ll see you later. Take care.” Matt placed the phone on his desk and turned to stare out the window. The trees would eventually be in leaf, blocking his view of the lake. Spring was on its way in mid-April and with it, the second year of Camp Hope. He’d named it after his mother, because in spite of all the troubles in Esperanza’s life, she never lost hope for better times. Matt’s father died when Matt was eleven and Esperanza was pregnant with Rosie. In the years after that, Rosie was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis and Matt had a teenage flirtation with crime. Now Matt prayed his mother had enough hope left in her for whatever she and the family were about to face.

      There was another knock on the door. “Come in,” Matt said. Sandro peeked around the door and Matt sighed, “Look, I didn’t mean to snap earlier.”

      “Yeah, sure, forget about it.” Sandro came into the office.

      Matt doubted Sandro had gained more than an inch or even a pound since tenth grade but the shoulder-length hair was gone, exchanged for the shaved look, and the small goatee certainly hadn’t been around when the two had been teenagers growing up on the South Side. Sandro’s tentative nature was the same though, and his tendency was to let Matt take the lead. In spite of Matt’s efforts to inspire more independence in his best friend—brothers in all but blood as they’d always boasted—Sandro seemed content to let Matt guide the way. And Matt had to admit, maybe that hadn’t been such a bad thing. Sandro had followed his lead, moving away from the gang they’d almost joined and instead signing up for the army with him.

      “My mom got her test results today.”

      “Oh man. And?”

      “Don’t know yet. She wouldn’t tell me over the phone.”

      “That doesn’t sound good.”

      “They’re on their way home now. I was thinking of packing it in for the day.”

      “Do it. Maria’s already left. She’s picking up the printer on her way home.”

      “Okay. How much did you authorize?”

      “A hundred. We can always reimburse any extra.”

      “Okay. Great. So, are you on your way, too?”

      “Uh, soon. Got some emails to send out. You know, replies to some of our queries about the project. Also, I have to meet the drywallers tomorrow at nine for the new sleep cabin. And you’re supposed to go over next month’s schedule with Kristen at the center.”

      “Right. Did the electrical get done today?”

      “Just about. He’s finishing up tomorrow.”

      Matt thought for a minute, his mind still spinning from the phone call. “Okay. I’ll email Kristen to confirm our meeting, unless there’s a problem...you know...with my mom.”

      “Hey, don’t get ahead of yourself. One step at a time.”

      “You’re right. Thanks for that, buddy.” Sandro had always been good at calming him down.

      After Sandro left, Matt checked his email again to see if there’d been any word about his request to give a presentation about the camp at a Willow Springs town council meeting. His KidsFirst organization had a one-year lease from the council for the site at Maple Lake, with the understanding that the lease would be extended. The council had even given permission to renovate the existing sleeping cabin and build another—projects funded by KidsFirst.

      Last year Camp Hope had been only a day camp. That worked, since it was a half-hour-or-so bus ride from Chicago. But the kids had loved it so much, and Matt had heard from a lot of them that they’d like to stay. Matt understood perfectly. Some of them were returning to extreme situations and almost all of them had begun to feel the positive effects of the country, the social bonding that came in a setting of trees, water and birds. It was a simple but vital formula for healing and inspiring.

      Except he’d just received notice from the council that the lease renewal was being reviewed. That left their new year up in the air, not to mention the money they’d already spent with the understanding that the renewal was a given. Matt sighed, rubbing his fingers through the new crop of hair. He had to stay positive, for the sake of his staff as well as the kids. He refreshed his inbox again, hoping for a message he knew hadn’t yet arrived. Everything in the community service sector moved at a snail’s pace.

      But there was still time. Camp Hope wasn’t scheduled to start until school let out but Matt was hoping they could bus kids to the camp for a few weekends in late May and early June, before the official opening. The visits would be a test run for the actual operation throughout the summer.

      Normally he used the short commute back to the city to plan for the next day, but now Matt’s mind was swirling with thoughts of the immediate future—his mother’s, Rosie’s and even his. By the time he turned onto his mother’s street in Pilsen, Matt figured his heart rate was way too high for a healthy thirty-seven-year-old man. He paused outside the bungalow he’d helped his mother purchase after Rosie’s diagnosis. Last summer, he and Sandro had built the ramp and installed grab bars throughout the house when it seemed her condition might deteriorate. Matt took a deep breath, knowing he’d have to hide his anxiety from his mother, and went inside.

      Esperanza was standing at the stove, stirring the pot of posole, while Rosie sat at the table slicing corn bread. She smiled up at him as he entered the small room.

      “Hey, punk,” Matt said, tousling her hair.

      Rosie pushed his hand away and grinned up at him. “Hope you’re hungry. Ma made enough for—”

      “The proverbial army?”

      “As always.”

      “Leftovers tomorrow and no cooking. What’s there to complain about?” scolded Esperanza as she ladled out bowls of the soup.

      They ate quickly, with no mention of the test results. Matt knew his mother wouldn’t spoil their enjoyment of a good meal with serious talk.

      The posole was as delicious as always and Matt felt no compunction about taking a container of it home. Rosie shooed them out of the kitchen, insisting on cleaning up. If she could still commute downtown every day for her job, albeit sometimes by special transit or taxi, she could do dishes.

      Matt followed his mother into the small living room and sat beside her on the sofa. She took his hand, looked him in the eye and said, without a quaver in her voice, “It’s breast cancer, but stage two. So not to worry, everything will be all right.”

      He stared at her, his hand gripping hers as he waited for his breath to return. He tried to speak but she stopped him.

      “I’m tired, Mati. It’s been a long day and I need some time to let all this sink in. You and I...and yes, Rosie...will talk on the weekend. Okay?” She patted his cheek with her free hand. “Go home now. I know it’s been a long day for you, too.”

      “Mom—”

      “Shhh. I know you