The Hathaway

Arrival

Helmut began his duties as our undercover security guard/gardener, and gave me daily reports of the protesters' activities. After their initial disturbance of our opening event, they had remained fairly low key, but persistent. They seemed to show up every day for an hour or two and stand outside our gates with their placards, trying to get responses from drivers as they passed by. Helmut noted that there were almost never any local people involved, although once or twice he thought he saw a familiar face in the group. This was encouraging. It seemed that local opinion was not the issue, but I was very aware that this group could easily sway local opinion if we did not do something proactive.

Helmut also identified one of the out buildings that might be in good enough shape to be made livable. It was an old carriage house, and though it was not right next to the house, it was close enough that we would have no problem running electricity to the place. Plumbing was another matter, however, and he would have to use the main house for his kitchen and bathroom needs. We decided to go ahead and fix it up for him with the idea that he would still maintain his room at the boarding house, but stay here when it seemed appropriate. Until it was ready he agreed to use a room on the lower level, where the kids would be staying.

Sylvia was supervising the arrival of other staff members, and coordinating spaces and schedules for various social service organizations that would be working with us. I didn't get to see much because I was at my job while she was working at the Hathaway, but she often worked late and would share how things were going and voice any concerns she had, but she had remarkably few. Ben offered to help her when he could, but spent much of his time working with Helmut around the property. They decided that the alterations to the carriage house were mostly things they could do themselves, and I suddenly discovered my lumberjack boyfriend could moonlight as a carpenter if he wanted to. He was still able to surprise me.

We kept the arrival time of the kids under wraps to avoid any trouble from the protesters, but we let the police chief know so he could be ready if there were any problems. We only had five kids arriving at this point, but I understood there were a few more in the pipeline, so we could expect more in the near future. The organization had decided to name themselves Hope House North, and a sponsor had provided them with a mini-van that could accommodate six kids plus two supervisors.

Sylvia took Scott, one of the social workers, with her on the morning the kids arrived. I had taken the day off so I could be there and was upstairs deciding what to wear, when Helmut knocked on the door. “One of them assholes just headed back to town.”

“What Assholes?” I asked.

“One of the protesters. I bet he's gone to tell his friends that the kids are about to arrive.”

“How could they know that? Nobody knows but us and the police”

He looked at me like I was stupid. “These people think they work for God. They're worse than the FBI. Don't underestimate them.”

I accepted his assessment, “Ok, I'll be right down.”

By the time I had found the perfect tie and made my way downstairs there were at least fifty protesters chanting outside the gate. Helmut and the rest of the staff were standing at the bend in the driveway, watching. “How did they get here so quickly?” I asked him.

“Who knows, divine intervention maybe.” He chuckled dryly at his own joke, but the staff were clearly mortified.

I could hear them talking among themselves, “This is so wrong.” “The kids shouldn't be subjected to this kind of hate. It'll undo all the progress they've made.” “How can we counter this?” They put their heads together for a few minutes and then, seeming to reach a consensus, they turned and headed back to the house.

I asked Helmut, “Do you want to call the police or should I?”

“No need,” he said, pointing to the road. Behind the wall of protesters we could just see the flashing blue lights as they arrived on the scene. We remained where we were and watched as the police cleared a path through the crowd.

The Chief came up the drive and greeted us. “I'll be damned,” How the hell did they know?”

“I saw one of them head back into town when the van left this morning, but the van has come and gone a number of times since we got it.” Helmut shared his frustration.

“They must have been tipped off it was happening today,” the Chief continued. “We're doing all we can, but they have a right to free speech as long as it's not obscene, and they have a right to be on a public road as long as they're not blocking traffic. My officers are pushing them back to the edges of the road but we have no way of moving them out of the area.”

Just then the staff members that had retreated to the house came back out, carrying placards of their own and waving rainbow flags. Without a word, they marched past us to the front gate and positioned themselves on either side of it. Once they were in place they began a chant of their own, and a small woman with black lipstick and blacker hair approached us. Her name was Beth, and she was one of the social workers who would be taking various night shifts as a supervisor. She walked directly to the Chief and said, “We are staging a counter protest on our own property. We do not feel safe with the proximity of the other protesters. I believe the law allows the police to keep protesters and counter protesters at a safe distance or even out of sight of each other. Am I correct?”

The Chief nodded. “Indeed you are,” he smiled.

“Since we are protesting on both our own private property and the public road in front of it, we respectfully request that you move the other faction to a public location out of view of our counter protest.” Beth was polite but firm.

The Chief's smile broadened. “With pleasure,” he said. As he picked up his radio and gave instructions for the relocation of the protesters the first photographer arrived. Before leaving, the Chief turned to me and said, “I'm afraid we can't stop the press, but let us know if they get too bad. I'll be leaving some officers to make sure the protesters stay within the law.”

I thanked him, and when everything seemed to have quieted down I gave Sylvia a call. I told her what had been going on and advised her to take an alternate route that would avoid going through town where, I assumed the protesters were taking advantage of the renewed interest of the press.

By the time she arrived, about two hours later, most of the press had left, satisfied with photos and interviews with both sets of protesters. As news of events spread through the town, a number of local residents, who were horrified at the protest, donned rainbow bandannas or made home made signs voicing their support and came to join the counter protest. The kids were greeted with cheers as the van passed through the gate.

“One small victory,” I said to Ben as we walked up the driveway to greet the kids. “But who knows what the next few days will hold.” Most of the staff followed us up the drive, but a few stayed at the gate with the local folks to maintain the counter protest and keep the haters at a distance, for a little while at least.

The social workers had decided not to subject the kids to too many structured activities, so they could settle in and relax. After brief introductions and a tour, the staff that was going to stay made themselves available informally, while the others left. Sylvia and I headed back out front to thank the counter protesters for their efforts. The staff members raced back to the house to meet the kids, and the locals offered us hugs and reassurance. One of the ladies from the church that had catered our failed opening handed Sylvia a sheet of paper with names and contact info on it. “These are the folks who were here today that are willing to come up and do this again if needed. Or,” she said, pointing to the first name on the list, “You can just call me and I'll get folks up here as fast as I can.”

Sylvia had tears in her eyes as she thanked the lady. “You don't know how much this means to us, Thank you so much.”

I gave the police chief a quick call to bring him up to speed and let him know the counter protest had broken up. I expected at least some of the protesters to descend on us as soon as they knew they could, but it seemed they were satisfied with the press attention they had received in town, and only two of them bothered to stand vigil outside our gate over the next few hours.

As we walked back up to the house, Sylvia said, “We didn't need to be worried. I got to hear some of their stories on the drive home. They've been through much worse than this. These kids have had to develop inner resources that you or I probably couldn't even imagine when we were their age.”

They ordered pizzas for dinner that night and Ben and I joined them so we could begin to know everyone. The staff had decided on a policy of radical transparency with clearly defined boundaries to foster an atmosphere of openness and honesty with mutual respect. As such they had told the kids about the protesters and the building's history. Ben and I fielded a few questions about the protests, but lots of questions about the ghosts we had encountered. We decided that the more recent ghostly encounters might be inappropriate, so we didn't mention those, but told them about the spirits at the boarding house instead.

Helmut joined us late, after the last of the protesters had left, and when he sat down I saw two of the boys giving each other significant glances and staring at him. Ben seemed to have noticed it too, because he leaned over and whispered, “I think we might have to watch those two around Helmut.”

For the most part, the kids interacted with each other and the staff quite well, and after the pizza, they settled in the rec room to watch a movie. Four of them acted like typical teenagers at a sleepover, joking around and engaging in a bit of play wrestling, but one of the kids stayed on the edges by herself, watching the group rather than the movie. Her name was Sabina. She was not being left out by the others, who I had seen make efforts to include her, rather, she just didn't seem comfortable with the group. As Ben and I chatted with the staff in the dining room, I noticed Beth, the woman who had taken point on the counter protest, go over and speak with her. The two of them headed for the back door and I guessed they were going for a walk around the grounds.

“Beth is great,” Sylvia stated, seeing my gaze. “She has always been a loner, and can smell another one a mile away.”

“A good skill to have in that profession,” I answered. “How do you think they're settling in?”

“So far, so good,” she smiled, “We really won't know for a couple of weeks, and by then school will be starting and they'll have a whole new set of issues to deal with. But like I said, I think they are pretty strong and will be able to handle it.”

We all chatted for a while longer and Sylvia headed off to the kitchen to get the ice cream they had set aside as a first night treat. There were a variety of flavors and toppings so the kids could make their own sundaes. As she set it all up for them to attack after the movie, Beth and Sabina returned. Sabina seemed more relaxed and settled on the floor with the others to watch the end of the movie. Beth came directly for Ben and I. She pulled us into the kitchen where Sylvia was almost done setting things up, and quietly asked, “What the hell is in those trees at the end of the property?!”