WHAT ARE YOU DOING FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE? Part 2

She didn't see him for some time. In a funny way she missed his swift visits. One Saturday he reappeared. He gripped the fence with one hand and lifted his T shirt. Tucked in the waist band of his shorts was a folded notebook, dog-eared and grubby, with a number of unidentifiable stains on its cover.

"Lo" he smiled at her. "I've got me a big problem." He waved the notebook in the air.

"I've got to do all these by Monday. My teacher wants to talk to my Mum and Dad about extra lessons. She says time is running out. I don't normally bother about homework but I think this time I'd better get it done or I'll be up the chute. Do you think you can help? If you don't mind that is. Please?" His blue eyes looked at her imploringly.

Mary felt her heart stop, her throat go dry!!

"Come into the garden and let me see your notebook andsee if I can help."

He negotiated his way carefully through the gate, up the garden path and came under the window. He handed her the notebook. Mary put on her glasses and opened it. The first thing that struck her was the amount of red ink that filled each page. Even the simplest maths seemed beyond him. He looked at her hopefully.

"Where is the homework that has to be handed in?"

"In the back. I copied it out."

The  squiggles were difficult to interpret. Mary studied them all carefully trying to make some sense of them. She leafed back through the pages to see what he had been working on.

"Yes I can help but I need to talk to your parents first. They need to know where you are and who I am. Can you give me your phone number?"

He looked scared and held his hand out for the notebook.

"I don't want lessons or stuff like that only help with this load of homework. My summer holidays depend on it as I've got lots lined up with my mates."

She handed him back the notebook.

"Help is all I'm suggesting but your parents still need to know. In order to help you with your homework you will need to come into my house. I can't do it leaning out of the window! It's not negotiable Darren, so up to you."

For a moment he looked mulish but then common sense got the upper hand and he recited a phone number. Mary tapped it out. When the phone was answered by a woman Mary identified herself and explained the situation. The woman who appeared to be Darren's Mum said,

"So you're the lady he talks abour 'cos you look like his Nan. She died recently and he misses her a lot. He's in a lot of bother at school and his Dad is mad at him. He needs to learn things and he won't, so if you can help I'm sure it would be great. Perhaps he'd listen to you. Tell him his lunch is ready and he'll have to come back later." Mary relayed the message.

"Wot about the football match? I can't let my mates down. They need me 'cos I'm in the goal. We've just got to win this one."

Mary thought rapidly.

"What about tomorrow morning?"

"It's Sunday" he wailed.

"This homework is due in on Monday!"

"OK. See ya."  He handed back the notebook, negotiated his way back to the pavement and took off.

Mary studied the notebook carefully. When the home help came that evening she found Mary busy working on sets of figures on sheets of paper she'd spread over the table. She looked and sounded brighter than she had done since she came out of hospital.

On Sunday morning Darren appeared washed and brushed, in a clean T shirt and on a skateboard rather than his usual roller blabes.

"It's my mate's" he explained as he parked it under the hedge by the front gate. He presented himself at the front door where Mary, leaning on a stick, let him in and he followed her into the sitting room.

"Sit down Darren, and let's get started so as not to waste too much of your Sunday morning. I think I've worked out what the homework is all about" . She started to explain, slowly and patiently with much use of paper and pencil.

"Blimey, can you understand all of that?" said Darren gazing at her admiringly.

"I do and so will you if you listen carefully to me."

She showed him her workings out explaining each step as she went along. She then got him to work with her going over each step. He looked puzzled, frustrated on the edge of a burst of bad temper, ready to give up as he couldn't see the point. He threw down his pencil.

She watched him carefully, deciding that he needed a short break. A coke and a bag of crisps later he looked calmer. They tried again. This time she saw a glimmer of understanding in his blue eyes. He tried, frowning in concentration, chewed the end of the pencil, sighed deeply, smiled at her and got it right. She was fulsome in her praise. He completed the homework as she watched. When he'd finished they sat and smiled at each other, happy with his work.

"Well?" said Mary.

"Gotcha. It's easy really" he said airily.

"When you know how" replied Mary.

"Thanks everso. I'm really chuffed."

He picked up his notebook. At the front door he turned to her.

"Can I ask you something? Can I come back and see ya and can you help me 'cos I understand what you are on about?"

"Anytime. By the way, did your team win yesterday?"

"Yeah. 3 nil!"

He waved and picked up his skateboard. He then performed a few tricks for her, a boy who realised that things were not as bad as he had thought and that he had a friend.

Mary went back to reading her book. She smiled to herself as she recalled her long career as a Primary School teacher. It was true what theysaid, some skills are never lost.