I read the following story at the ECS end-of-year assembly.
Abram and Harry stood before the judge, ready for it to be over. Neither one of them really doubted what the verdict would be, but getting to this point had seemed very difficult.
Abram Holloway had been the Mayor of Paterson for a long time. While he occasionally was called to testify as part of his civic role, he hadn’t ever been as antsy to hear a judge’s answer. Harry, even though he was only thirteen years-old, had been in courtrooms many times. He had barely known his mother and never known his father and ran away from his aunt’s house as soon as he could. For the last three years he had been living from house to house, getting into trouble, getting caught, and then getting to appear before a judge who would try to determine a new way to punish him. This day was different.
Finally, with all the formalities finished, the judge signed the papers and announced that Harry was now Abram’s legally adopted son.
Dad and son talked on their drive home, headed to a celebration party. “Do you think Ben will come home now?” Harry said. “Won’t he be excited to have a brother?” Abram caught Harry’s eyes, then looked out the windshield across an open field. Harry waited, and waited, until his dad said, “I love Ben so much, Harry, as I love you. But Ben is very angry right now. We’ll have to keep hope.”
Mayor Holloway lived in a large house on a tall hill just a few minutes south of the city. The property was a young boy’s dream. It had hidden spots for a curious boy to explore and open spaces for an active boy to kick balls back and forth. On the east side of the house grew a variety of trees that always smelled like good fruit. The orchard was so large that the mayor hired men from the city to come and take care of it for him, and the fruit was known in every neighboring county. On the other side of the house was a barn that housed horses, some sheep, and a couple dozen chickens who produced a crop of eggs every morning. These were all things that Harry could now call his own.
These were also things that Ben Holloway had called his own for seventeen years, but no longer.
It’s hard to imagine a son who had it better than Ben. Even though his dad was busy as mayor, his dad truly loved him and sacrificed to give him the best gifts. Maybe the best gift of all was time together, especially in the summer. Ben and his dad would backpack into the woods. They fished together at a nearby lake. Sometimes they caught fish, but mostly they didn’t worry about it because they preferred being loud and telling jokes to each other, even if that scared the fish away. Lemonade was a favorite hot weather drink, and root beer floats were a Friday night treat.
Abram was preparing his son for great responsibilities. He didn’t necessarily expect Ben to take over for him one day as city mayor, but he still had special plans in mind. Every week he told Ben about Ben’s inheritance, past and future.
“Your grandfather’s grandfather built the first house on this property. He felt called to this place.”
Abram promised Ben that one day the house would be his, the orchard would be his, the animals would be his, all of it his. As a child Ben always had a hard time not asking too often, “When will I get it?” And always his dad answered, “As soon as you are ready.”
Ben was a blessed boy. Harry was not.
Harry was an orphan, mostly. Both of his parents were alive, but neither of them wanted him. Harry had never met his father. As for his mother, she was the kind of woman who didn’t love anyone but herself, and she didn’t even do that very well. Harry somehow survived until his mother’s sister persuaded his mom to let Harry live with her and her husband.
Harry thought his aunt and uncle were weird, and strict, and their house smelled, so he ran away. When he showed up in Paterson, it didn’t take long before he found some other young trouble makers and joined in.
One of Harry’s favorite things to do with his middle school buddies was to mock Ben. Ben was an older 11th grader, but he was small for his grade-level. Ben was also an obvious target for envy. His dad was the mayor. He lived in a huge house. He seemed, at least to the other kids, to get whatever he wanted.
Harry had nothing, which meant he had nothing to lose. It was a small school, so even though Harry wasn’t in Ben’s class, Harry saw Ben enough to remind him to be angry. In the hallways or on the playground, Harry would make jokes about Ben in ways only lonely kids know how to do. Sometimes after school, Harry would say, “Go home, daddy’s boy!”
Harry got to meet a lot of the folks at City Hall. If Harry wasn’t getting caught stealing candy and Coke from the gas station he was getting caught throwing raw eggs at passing cars. None of his crimes were really that dangerous, but the police, and the city attorney, and the city judge (let alone the gas station owner and innocent drivers), were eager to change his course, and Harry had heard all the lectures.
The Mayor knew about Harry. Some of the stories going around City Hall were almost cute. There was the time when Harry spread peanut butter on every toilet seat in the school. There was another time when he wrapped five full rolls of duct tape around the mailbox at City Hall. Abram was concerned, but not quite sure how to help.
A few months later it was the Mayor who needed help.
A wealthy developer wanted to buy the community park near the center of Paterson. The developer wanted to build a large shopping center, which he promised would bring more business and jobs and money to the people. The proposal seemed perfect to some of the citizens who were struggling financially, but the Mayor wanted to protect the park.
The proposal eventually came to the City Council for a vote. The Council members were split, 3-3, leaving the Mayor to cast the deciding vote. He voted No.
The local newspaper began to print nasty articles about the Mayor. Some of the angriest citizens drove out to his house and burned many of the trees in his orchard, and broke down large sections of his fences. For weeks, any time the Mayor walked down the street of Paterson someone, and often, many someones, would shout and swear at him for his stupid decision.
People also started treating Ben worse wherever he went because they didn’t like what his dad had done. Ben wasn’t sure it was worth it. He asked his dad, “Why not just let the people have what they want? What’s so special about the park?”
Abram patiently answered Ben day after day, but rather than being calmed by his dad’s steady nerve, Ben grew angry himself. He was tired of being treated so cruelly for things he couldn’t control. He saw his dad as the problem, and his dad didn’t seem to care how it affected him.
“Why are you doing this to us?”
“Son, because it’s the right thing to do.”
So one morning after another heated argument, Ben had had enough. He cursed his father, cursed his stupid inheritance, and stormed out of the house.
Ben was a year too young to join the military, but he was old enough to get a job and rent a spare room on the other side of town, far away from his dad. He despised his life and blamed his dad for making him miserable.
Abram was very sad that Ben was gone. But there was no phone to call, and none of his letters received a reply. By now the people in the city had stopped threatening to hurt him, though they still weren’t happy and wanted another Mayor.
The one person who seemed to understand the Mayor Holloway’s grief was Harry. Harry saw the Mayor around City Hall and, though the Mayor wasn’t mopey, Harry thought he could use some encouragement.
One day Harry knocked on the door to the Mayor’s office. “Come in,” said the Mayor.
Harry entered. The Mayor said, “Ah, Harry. What trouble brought you in today?”
“I’m not in any trouble. I just came by to talk.”
“Not in any trouble?” the Mayor replied. Then he smirked and said, “You sure about that?”
Harry sat down and the two of them talked for the next half hour. Mostly they talked about meaningless things: the weather, baseball, each’s favorite kind of pie, things like that. But it was a nice break for both of them.
Harry returned the following afternoon. And the afternoon after that, until it became a daily occurrence. Sometimes the Mayor and Harry would walk over to the park and talk. On especially warm days the Mayor would buy Harry something cold and sweet from the ice cream truck. Harry was different. If you didn’t know better, you’d have said that the two of them were becoming friends.
And about a year and a half later, we get to the beginning of our story. Abram and Harry were standing before the judge, waiting to hear that they were now not just friends, but father and son.
But that was, after all, only the beginning.
Abram had not forgotten about Ben, but he gave himself to care for Harry as his own. They played pitch and catch until the sun went down. They shared lemonade and root beer floats. And now Harry slept in his own bed, knowing that when he woke up in the morning that he could come back to the same place at night.
The nights passed into months, and the months added up into years. Abram’s love for Harry started to grow good grades on Harry’s report card. Even more than that, Harry was becoming a young man who could be trusted, a young man who worked hard, a young man who was nothing like the fatherless kid from before.
After Harry graduated from college he took over running the orchard. The men who worked for Harry said they’d never had a better boss. The women who bought his produce said their families had never tasted anything so fresh. Soon he had such success with the profit from the fruit that he bought some nearby land and planted his own vineyard. Harry became known not just around the city, but around all of the neighboring towns as a blessed man.
During this time Ben was also advancing in his company, though not to the same degree as Harry, and also with none of the happiness. Of course Ben had heard about how his dad adopted another son. He also couldn’t help but hear about Harry’s successes in school and in work. At times it seemed as if Harry was the only subject people could talk about. “Did you hear about Harry’s new company?” “Can you believe how good Harry’s wine is?” “Are you going to apply for a job with Harry?”
Ben hated his dad more for giving Harry so many good things, and Ben hated that all those good things should have been his. But for as much as he secretly wanted to see his father, and for as much as he envied Harry’s success, he refused to go home.
As fall approached it brought both the harvest season and election season. The Mayor was running for office again, but during the campaign there were some new opponents who were so tired of the Mayor’s (good) governing that they hired protestors to follow the Mayor around. Whenever the Mayor had a public appearance, these people made such a disruption that no one could hear what the Mayor was trying to say.
One afternoon Harry came into the city to have lunch with his dad, but when he got out of his truck, the protestors started yelling at him. Harry tried to talk to them, not realizing that these men were paid to be unreasonable. The local news arrived with cameras and recorded the interaction. No matter what Harry said, the mob got more and more mad. Almost a dozen men attacked Harry. Unable to silence Harry with words, a few held his arms behind his back while others took turns punching him as hard as they could. No one stepped in to defend Harry as he defended his father. Eventually the mob got tired and left Harry lying on the sidewalk.
That night when Ben got home from work he saw what had happened outside of City Hall on the news. It was hard to believe that men would attack like that, but it was even more hard to believe that Harry had been so loyal. Ben had once been the target of shouting meant for his father, but Ben ran away and resented his father for it. Harry stood up for his dad like Ben never had.
Ben decided to visit Harry in the hospital. Though he had thought about Harry almost every day for the last twelve years, they hadn’t spoken since school. Ben wasn’t even sure what he would say when he arrived at the doorway of Harry’s hospital room.
“Come in,” Harry said quietly. “Come in, sit down.”
Ben entered the room but didn’t sit down. He looked at the many bandages and the IV, at both of Harry’s black eyes and swollen face. Ben’s heart beat hard as he asked, “Why didn’t you just get away? Or why didn’t you at least fight back? Why did you suffer like this for Abram?”
“Because he loves me. Because he took me as his own. Because he gave me everything I have.”
And Ben’s stony heart broke.
At that moment their dad walked in. Ben was already crying, but cried even harder when he looked at his dad and said, “I’m so sorry, dad. It should have been me standing up for you. I’m so very sorry. Can you ever forgive me?”
“How could I not? You are still my son.” And Abram stepped toward Ben and threw his arms around him and held him tight while Harry smiled at both of them from his bed.
As it turns out, Harry recovered and went home a few weeks later. Ben also returned home, and rather than being treated as an outsider as he expected, his dad started talking about his inheritance the same as when he was a kid. Harry’s vineyard was doing so well he didn’t have time to care for his dad’s business. So Harry built a big house of his own next door, got married, started having kids, and brought his pack over to Abram and Ben’s house every Saturday night for dinner.
As for Ben, he not only took over responsibilities on the property but also started working for his dad at City Hall. After a few years he was running for Mayor with his dad’s blessing, and after winning the election, he governed the town with a name to make his dad proud. The land, the fruit, the blessing to him and through him on the city was the inheritance promised by his dad long ago, and Ben was finally ready for it all.
