“White Death”
© 2010
By: Rolly A. Chabot
“FORWARD”
Through life we come to places we find hard to move forward in. Maybe it is from a past hurt; maybe it is because of pain we have caused others.
No matter where we find ourselves we can come to know one thing for certain. “We are loved by the Father in heaven.”
When we look past our own needs, we see the great need of others. It is through this need to help we learn of real compassion and the gift of giving. It is a gift which will always bless us should we choose to give it freely.
Welcome to the world of Christopher Shaw, a man who trusted only in what he had. Power and authority he took beyond and paid a dear price for.
Maybe in these few words we can all find things in life we can change. It is my prayer you may even find some healing in reading. May the Father above bless you?
Thank you for visiting.
“White Death”
By: Rolly A. Chabot
© 2010
Chapter One: “Life and the Loss”
Pickings had been slim this January night as he attempted
Too stay warm in this weather. His clothes were hardly sufficient to keep out the cold west wind. His life was a hard and lonely life, not one he had chosen but rather created for himself.
His only link to real food came from the dumpster he found himself rummaging through tonight. It had been this way for a long while. It provided for his basic daily needs. He found himself here nightly after most had left the street. The pain of his life made him often weep over what he had become. A street person without home or any of what he had once had. There were many mornings he would hide in the back alley and watch all his work friends scurry to work at the bank. The bank he had been President of for years, stood cold and uninviting, a grey stone building which held nothing for him but painful memories.
Through a series of blunders in life he found himself here. He had made the one that had placed him here, a hidden man, and a man with a past. His past had been one filled with promise as he had come through business school the head of the class. Yet here he was a failure with little hope for the future.
He carried the meager food scraps he had found to his home under the stairs behind Lou’s Diner. He had never been inside but the food here was the best in town. Below the steel grating ran the subway, which provided some heat. His walls were made of cardboard, his blanket and old coat, his pillow a few rags stuffed in a paper bag. This was home and he was thankful for it.
He recalled the morning he walked into the bank, walked up to the President of the bank shook his hand and they talked about his working there. He was hired that morning; the newest bank employee would start the following morning.
As they got up they shook hands and He looked deep into this mans eyes and said, “I will have your job someday” That had been 7 years prior.
Yes he eventually made it to President; he successfully bumped the hiring President right out of his chair. He had been a mover and a shaker in the business world. He borrowed vast amounts of money to people, took chances on people and the profits stared to rise as he made a name for himself.
He attended all the finest of parties with his wife Julie at his side, he was proud of his wife, she was a stunning redhead that could turn any mans eye and she did just that. She was a flirt and it complemented his appeal to the larger investors. She had a way of getting past the cold hard business practices it took to be successful in this business and gain their trust. She was an asset in many ways to him.
Success had been bred into him from an early age, his father had been a banker, and he recalled the many nights his dad had played bank with him. They had used the game monopoly, his dad taught him to be a risk taker and he learned well as he would beat his dad at his own game.
He had seen the good life and the not so good where he found himself this day. The newspaper, which covered him, was already a few days old so he was not sure what day it was.
His one big meal of the day had been provided at the soup kitchen just up the road. He hated needing to go there. While he was the President of the bank, each Friday he would walk over from the bank and give them a $100.00 donation. He had no idea he would someday be the recipient of the offerings there.
He recalled the first time he had come to line up for the free meal, the secretary who had always taken his donation had come down the line greeting everyone in the name of Jesus. If she recognized him he was not certain, if he wanted to eat he would need to stay in line, he just pulled his hat down and turned his face away.
After a few weeks he would not be recognizable with his long beard, he still carried the shame of once being successful and now to this, begging on the street for the basics of life.
Christopher Shaw was his name, all the right education, and a Yale man like his dad; he came from a very long line of successful business people. Mention the name Shaw in the community and they all knew whom you were talking about.
Christopher had moved quickly into the Presidents seat after catching onto some fraud that had been happening for years. He had studied and restudied the numbers of the bank. It made sense the more he watched Bill Chamberlin, the more sure he was of his suspicions. It was the expensive suits, the fancy cars and the fact that he just leaked of success and yet he had very little education in comparison to himself. He had been caught and Christopher had been the whistle blower.
He had been the youngest at the bank at the time and he had gotten the job. He had pulled some gutsy risks with some clients and it had benefited the bank back 200 fold and they had seen his potential. Yes he had made a name for himself. He was a shoe in for the job. Once the door had been opened for him he worked long hard hours setting him up as being a man to contend with.
Bill and his secretary were involved in more ways that business. They were both married but apparently they had been seeing each other on a regular basis having extra long lunches at the hotel across the street. The bank unknowingly had been paying for the room and the expensive room service.
Within weeks of this leaking out the embezzlement, the affair they both found themselves unemployed, neither without a home anymore as their spouses had said enough. He had broken his findings of the President and his scheme to the regional manager.
Christopher had been rather smug about his victory within the first two weeks on the job he had replaced 11 out of the 29 people who worked at the bank. He held a position of power and he loved it. He had moved up the ladder quickly, he ran a tight ship. Just look at him the wrong way and you found yourself caught up in a serious reprimand or worse without a job. Christopher had become power hungry and they all ran in fear at the sight of him.
His highflying days at parties had eventually found him getting caught up in the cocaine world. At first it had been just for recreational purposes, then it turned more serious. It was when he was high he could take the high risks. He moved in circles of the high rollers and never once saw his habit as being a problem. Money came in and money went out. Soon his own books started to show he was in trouble.
His wife Julie had been watching the quickly diminishing bank account and questioned him on it. He simply said he was investing into their future. The bank account continued to plummet as the need for more cocaine started to consume him.
The more he used the cocaine the more he needed to get high. He had drained them of the savings, he had taken his credit cards to the limit and it was getting worse. He had all but stopped eating and all relationships with close friends had been severed. He was fast tracking himself in a downward spiral with no bottom in sight.
Life as he knew it had not only started to crumble, but everything around him was on the same downward trend. Here he was riding the spiral down to the bottom and he could not stop. He had gone to his Dad and asked for help three times, they had helped but his parents were not blind either. His physical condition showed the world he was suffering from the effects the drugs were having on him.
The last time his Dad had met him at the door, it was like his dad was talking to a total stranger and would not even let him into the house. “Son there is no more loans, no more bail outs. I have watched you go from here to the bottom, get some help as he slammed the door in his face.” Even his family now had turned against him.
Chapter Two: “Divorce”
His marriage was the first in the family to end in divorce, his wife Julie had started the proceeding a few months earlier when another bank they dealt at had threatened to take the home as the mortgage had not been looked after. A friend of hers Steve Zimmerman a lawyer from school had been her attorney. He had been sure to cover all aspects of the divorce. When it was all over, he had nothing but the clothes he found in boxes outside his upscale home in the Hamptons.
He was at work one day when the Sheriff arrived and served the papers on him. His office was all glass and he had nowhere to hide. The next day higher management people had come asking, “Christopher we are concerned about you. The bank has some wonderful professionals you can talk too, please let us help and maybe we can get you back on track.”
“I will be fine, just a little bump in the road is all. Just give me a little time to get through this and I will be back in full force again. You have trusted me in the past and look what I have done for the bank. Thank you for the offer but I will be fine.”
It was then it happened, it had started small, he started to embezzle from the bank; small amounts at first and it just kept growing. His secretary had been a helper in the entire scheme and just like his former boss the relationship had gone from working with her to intimacy. It was an instant replay of what had happened to Bill Chamberlin.
It was Shelly the secretary who had betrayed him as the investigators had come to inspect the banks books and found the discrepancies. They knew something was wrong and after offering her a deal she had turned him in. Within the week his world had crumbled to nothing. He was officially charged and arrested. The newspapers had a field day at his expense; his family name had been smeared. He had become a disgrace to all who may have looked up to him at one time. He had become an outcast and added to his new title a criminal.
He had nothing left, nothing, all that was important had been stripped away. He had nowhere to go, none of the high society people would even acknowledge him. He was a beaten man. His world had come to an end. He was sentenced to two years to be served at the County Jail. It was a lifestyle he had never been a part of and he hated each and every waking moment of the time. He worked hard in most areas of the prison he had been assigned too. Over the period of the two years of incarceration he fought the battle with his addiction. He was determined to gain some respect back after all he had faced in the outside world.
This was his home, living under the back door of a restaurant. It was in prison he started to hear about this Jesus and later in the soup kitchen, which offered him food. He only listened at first, after awhile he would stay for the odd service in the Chapel. What could this Jesus do for him anyway, Christopher was a failure and failures had no place in society.
He had been on the street now for two and a half years; he had not shaved or had a haircut the entire time. He was a mess; if there was a rock bottom for him it was right here. It was here he fought off the rats for what little food he could scrounge.
Late one night he was in the dumpster and it was dark, raining and he was soaked to the skin. It was when the back door of the restaurant opened and someone tossed a full bag of trash on top of him. He had grunted and they heard him, the waitress was so shocked, all she could do was saying, “I’m so sorry, are you alright?
He never answered just turned his back and sank lower from sight in fear and in shame. Christopher Shaw wept that night. This was his life, this was his shame, he was alone in the world and he felt it more than ever before.
After that night he would find a meal in a cookie can with a lid on it. It would always sit near the steps above where he lived. There was also always a note attached to it speaking of Gods love.
He had saved every note, they were always written on the same paper order sheet waitresses used. Each had a smiley face on them. She had sprawling handwriting and he loved the little sayings. They were always the highlight of his day. His meals were always carefully placed with little salt and pepper packages on top. She had started to look after a man whom she had never seen or spoken too.
Often he would be waiting under the step and she would just say, “Hello, hello. He would never answer but his heart always fluttered when he heard her voice. “Have a good nights rest” was what he heard as she would pull the door shut. He would get the odd look at her from the darkened area he lived in. She was in her late thirties, always dressed in the same drab looking waitress uniform. There was nothing outstanding about her appearance. It was just her soft voice, which he treasured along with the many notes he had collected.
Often the notes would have a Scripture written on them from the Bible. He would study them and read then aloud repeatedly.
Last week when she came out she had said the usual “Hello, hello and again the familiar words “Have a good nights rest.”
He spoke for the first time. Before he could stop himself he said “Thank You.”
She simply said “Your welcome and God Bless you” as she pulled the door shut.
Each night he would say “Thank you” and she would say “God Bless you.” Christopher could not help but think of the warm house he had, all the luxuries in life and a wife Julie whom he had adored. She now hated him and had remarried according to the newspaper. She had become Mrs. Zimmerman, the wife of the prominent lawyer. She had become high society just as she had gotten used too while they had been married.
The small Chapel at the soup kitchen had been a regular place to go. It was here he learned of the love of Jesus, he struggled with the concept until it sank in the love of Christ was played out each night through this waitress. Often her notes would include Scripture stating Jesus loved the outcasts, those who no one ever looked twice at. His love was one that was being played out here each day.
That night as he said thank you he said can I ask your name and she replied “Adele” and he said Christopher is mine. The following night she said good evening Mr. Christopher and he replied thank you Miss Adele. It would be the formal words spoken for the next while.
Those few words had started a relationship, which just kept growing, eventually they started to have conversations, her on top of the step and him staying hidden under the step. He learned she was from the East and had arrived here on the bus with the last money she had. She had left an abusive relationship and eventually divorced. She had no family other than the man she valued, Lou whom she stated had become like a father to her.
“I came in the diner late one night with pennies in my pocket, a lost child really. Lou the owner offered me coffee and soup that night and shared his life story with me. It was a sad story, I started to come on regular basis and he gave me much needed work and a place to live. Tell me about yourself Christopher? She asked.
“Not much to tell really Miss Adele, I mean look at me and where I find myself today. I think you are a wise lady and can figure out I have nothing?
“On the contrary my new found friend I think you have a great deal to share. Where you find yourself is not what is important. What you are planning on doing about it is important too some people and especially to Jesus.”
Just then the door opened and a male voice could be heard. “Adele, what in blazes are you doing out here in the cold talking to yourself. Come inside before you catch a cold and spoil your Christmas. It is not fit out here for man or beast. Let’s call it a night as the last of the lost have just left. We have one more shift then a few days off and I want you well, not sick like last year.”
It was Christmas Eve and she came out as always and said “I have nothing tonight for you as Lou has been closed but I have supper upstairs. I know it would be hard for you but you are welcome to come and share a simple meal with me. I will leave the front street door ajar. I live in the tenement next door if you change your mind please pull it shut. It would be nice to have a Christmas again with someone after all these years of being alone.”
Christopher was at a loss as to what he should do, look at him, he was filthy, unkempt and no doubt he smelled something terrible. It was an inviting offer but he could not put himself up to it. He pulled the front door shut and slipped back into his hideaway again. This would be his third Christmas alone; he would make it through without imposing on anyone.
At chapel that night the Pastor spoke in depth about the Good Samaritan that had helped the man along the road. Thieves had beaten him and of all the people who passed it was this Samaritan who helped. It was a total stranger reaching out to another in compassion and love. Christopher thought about his Good Samaritan he had next door. He was truly blessed, he had one friend in the world and he silently thanked God for her. His shame for not even explaining why he had not taken her up on her offer weighed heavy on his heart that night.
Chapter Three: “The Gift”
That night when he got back from Chapel there was a package with a note from Adele, “Merry Christmas Christopher, just know that God loves you. Should you decide to come for supper one night you have some clean clothes. Just let me know and I will prop open the door and you can use the bath in the hall.”
Written on the package was her apartment number. All it said was apartment # 5. His heart started beating quickly as he though what on earth would he do. It had been so long he had forgotten what it would be like to be around women. His unkempt appearance would never be accepted.
Nearly two weeks had gone by before one night all he said was “Tomorrow night” and she said, “The door will be open and Thank you Christopher and God bless you.”
He took his package with him that night and as planned the door was open, he gingerly and as quietly as he could climb the stairs and found the bathroom. He slipped inside and found an array of things he needed with hairbrush, toothbrush, toothpaste scissors, mans razor. How many years had it been since he had used anything like this.
He touched each as though they were foreign to him, then he saw the note that said, “Jesus loves you, take your time and relax, enjoy your bath, supper will be here when you are ready.”
Christopher locked the door and ran the tub. The steam filled the room. It had been three years since he had had a real bath. It was always only a shower and the token they gave at the soup kitchen you had four minutes to have a shower and that was it. One shower a week, that was all. He was grateful for such a privilege. After he always felt better, even though he always had to get back into the same old clothes.
If you were lucky and one of the first you could get hot water. Christopher watched as the tub filled. Adele had even left some smelly bubble bath stuff. It was like she knew what he liked. He loved to lay back and listen to the tiny bubbles exploding, making their little popping sound.
As he took off his clothes he wiped the steam from the mirror and looked at his haggard face and unkempt self. His body had dwindled away to a mere skeleton of what it had once been. His ribs could be easily counted. He had always prided himself with his physical condition; great care to stay in shape. Tears formed in his eyes at the man who stood in front of the mirror.
But now there was nothing left of him, his pants were four sizes to big. His belt had long before run out of holes. He had made five new ones with his pocketknife and it was looking as though he would need another soon. Life on the street had taken its toll in many ways, his appearance was but one. His pride or whatever pride he had left was found in the dullness of his eyes. He was a man without hope.
As he slid into the tub the water was almost scalding hot but it felt good, he just lay back and savored in the moment listening to the little bubbles popping making their own music. He lay for a few minutes then recalled someone was waiting for him.
He scrubbed and scrubbed, washed his hair a few times, when he finally climbed out of the tub he was a bright red from the hot water but he felt refreshed. This had been a real treat for him; he was at last clean and for the first time in a long while he had some fresh clothes to wear.
Now what to do with his hair and beard, he had no idea what to do so elected to leave it the way it was. While he had been in the bath he noticed a discarded hair elastic in the far corner of the bathroom. He retrieved it, a blessing as he pulled his hair back and made a ponytail. His beard he trimmed as best he could.
The clothes in the package were simple clothes, practical clothes for living on the street. Everything was woolen and all new. Adele had come very close to the right sizes for him even though as far as he knew she had never seen him. He looked and felt like a man again after the street grime had disappeared down the drain.
Christopher folded his old clothes and placed them into the package. He would deal with them later. Just before he left the bathroom he looked at the tub and the bathtub ring he had left.
He tried to clean it with a face cloth and a bar of soap but it was stubborn. He did the best he could.
He quietly stepped out into the hall with all his belongings and knocked on her door. It seemed like forever before she finally opened the door. “Well look at you all cleaned up you look just grand. With that she stepped aside and said welcome to my small but comfortable home.”
He shook her hand “Merry Christmas Miss Adele and thank you for the clothes and the bath. I really appreciate all you have done for me over these past few months. It has been a blessing to receive all the gifts and now this.”
She just smiled and said, “It is a late Christmas gift for you, but you are welcome, she turned and went to the stove. Hope you like stew because that is what we are having. An old family favorite and a recipe to feed a hungry man.”
She was slight, mousy looking about 35 years old with a slim figure. She had an infectious smile and bubbly personality as she chatted about the weather. She wore a simple flowered dress and flat shoes. She had just the slightest smell of perfume on and it was an appealing smell. It was so unlike his x-wife Julie and the perfume she wore. Julie would cover herself with perfume several times a day in her efforts to be noticed.
Christopher stepped into a small suite, well decorated with small trinkets and books filled one whole wall. He stood awkwardly at the door with his soiled clothes in hand. Adele came over and took the package and said go look at the books I have and I will wash these for you. He objected but she insisted “Let me take care of these for you Christopher so you will have a clean change of clothes. They will be dry soon; she took the clothes down the hall and started the washer.
Every book in her library was a Christian book. They all dealt with healing and stepping out of the bondage people felt when others oppressed them. She returned in time to catch him holding a book called “From The Ground Up.”
She said “It is a great book if you care to borrow it you can.” Christopher looked at the cover and it was like looking in the mirror of his own home outside under the stairs. The writer he learned had lived on the street for many years and had recorded his journey in this book. Adele said “It is a fascinating book, please take it with you and when you are done I have many others which may interest you.”
The writer also professed Christ to be his Lord and Savior. Christopher looked quickly through the book. It was the first real book he had in his hands for a long while. He set it on the floor near his shoes. He would read this, as it was the same life as he had.
Supper was simple fair as she called it. She placed a dish before him and he immediately picked up a spoon and was ready to start eating as she dished up her own. “Would you mind if I were to pray and give thanks for the meal.”
“Ah certainly” as he set the spoon down, placed his hands together like a little child.
Adele led them in a simple prayer of thanks for the food and the blessing of their time. “Thank you Father for the many blessings of the day and especially that you have brought Christopher here tonight. Bless him Father as we partake in the meal you have so graciously provided. Amen.”
He smiled and thanked her. She motioned to him to eat. Christopher had a fleeting glance into his past as he took the first spoonful. High society required that you have many different utensils before you. Here he only had a spoon and it was all he needed. Prison gave you a spoon; he had learned to protect his meal in prison by leaning forward and almost wrapping his arm around the plate. He looked at himself; he was doing it again being barbaric with his food. Attacking it like there would be nothing for several days. He sat back straighten himself up and began eating as he had learned in society.
His plate was empty and Adele had barely started, she offered to get him more. “Thank you I would appreciate more as this is the best meal I have had in a long while.”
Adele just smiled and said “Thank you, It has been a long while since I had a man sitting at my table. It is good to see you enjoy the meal Christopher.”
They were both quiet the rest of the meal; Christopher got up and cleared the dishes from the table. Adele said “Please I can get these.”
“Please allow me to get the dishes at least after all the work you have done to get this meal ready. It is something I learned years ago, to do my share after a good meal. Something my mother taught us as children.”
Adele made coffee, the aroma filled the room and he started to relax, he had been bathed, well fed and now coffee. This was a treat in comparison to the home he had created outside under the steps. The coffee was strong and hot, a rare thing for him to have.
He watched Adele as she sat looking about the room. Both were uncomfortable with what to say next. Everything had its place as he looked around the room. There were a few pictures in frames. Gatherings of people at what appeared to be family functions. “Are these of your family Adele?
“Some she said, there are none left now, they have all passed away except for a brother I have not seen or heard from for years. My parents and two siblings had been killed in a car accident. My brother had been in charge of the estate and we became estranged. His greed took him from a successful life as an attorney to one of wanting all there was to be had. I just walked away from it all and let him take it. I have all I need right here Christopher.” Adele shared she had been raised in New England; she had been raised in a faith based family of Church leaders. All her uncles had become leaders in the Church. She had been the rebel in the family and had run off with some young man who was drifting through town.
He had taken her to New York and she soon found herself alone after a few weeks, as he got all he wanted and left in the middle of the night. She awoke without anything, no money, no job or anything. It had been a hard time for her.
She did the odd job here and there until she met the last man she had been with for 14 years. He had been successful and all of a sudden her world started to fall apart. She shared with Christopher this man had done well. All of a sudden he changed, less caring and the money they had saved started to disappear without explanation. They lost a car and the bank and credit card companies started to call. When she questioned him all he would say is he was working on some big deal.