Jenna Introduction

Jenna’s story

Middle school can be brutal!  Know this, Jenna carefully kept her hand over the ragged hole in her jeans.  Fingers twitching, Jenna prayed that the other students in the school lunch line wouldn’t notice the tear.  Or the stain at the bottom of her shirt that wouldn’t come out no matter how many times she washed it. 

A moment later, Jenna’s whole body tensed when she heard the malicious voice from her left.  “Hey, Halliday!” one of the other students called out, “did you get your clothes out of the trash bin again?” The shrill, nasty voice of the shchool’s meanest mean girl rose above the din of the other conversations.

A fraction of a second later, the painful, awkward pause in conversations caused Jenna to want to shrink into the nearest hole. 

Bess Aversome’s waited, eagerly anticipating her power over Jenna and the other students.   

Gone were the nauseating scents that infiltrated every oxygen particle of the cafeteria.  The harsh, overhead lights seemed to shine a spotlight right over her head.  Predictably, there was a brutal, long pause as the nearby students turned to look at Jenna, trying to see what the mean girl was talking about. 

Unconsciously, Jenna curled her shoulders inwards, wishing that she were invisible.  Bess Aversome was one of the meanest girls in school.  She always had new clothes and the fanciest sneakers.  Bess was blond and beautiful, her long, shimmering locks neatly braided with matching bows at the end of each braid. 

Meanwhile, Jenna’s hair was barely brushed.  She hadn’t had time to brush her hair this morning.  There had been three departing guests this morning and she’d hurried to strip the beds and stuff the dirty sheets into the washing machine of her family’s roadside motel before they school bus had arrived to pick them up.  She hadn’t grabbed breakfast…not because she’d run out of time.  There’d been no breakfast to be had. 

Suddenly, the other students laughed, but thankfully, there were other people for Bess to torment.  Triumphantly, Bess lowered herself into the lunch room chair and whispered something to her friend while Jenna inched forward in the lunch line. 

Finally, she got her tray of food, typed in her code that would allow her to not pay for her lunch meal – because her family qualified for free lunches – and carried her food over to the table.  Sitting alone, she stared down at the food.  Her appetite was gone, but Jenna forced herself to eat everything on her plate.  There was no guarantee that there would be any food for dinner tonight. 

“Ignore her,” Ava, her younger sister, said as she sat down across from Jenna with her own tray of food.  “Bess is just an evil woman who will grow ugly and meaner as she ages.”  Ava lifted her fork and stared down at the lunch food, tilting her head as she stared at the gelatinous, blob of food.  “What do you think it is?”

Jenna’s laugh was stilted, but she picked up her own fork and stabbed at the blob.  “Mystery meat, again, of course.”

Ava chuckled and stabbed at the reddish-brown blob.  “I think it’s supposed to be barbeque chicken.”

Jenna stabbed a bit of the blob, lifting it to examine the food more carefully.  “I think you’re right.”  With resignation, she ate the food, not allowing her mind to focus on the taste.  It was most likely nutritious. 

“How was your history test this morning?” Ava asked, gulping down her milk. 

“Aced it,” Jenna replied, some of her anquish over her torn jeans easing at the memory of how easily she’d answered the test questions.  “I have a science test this afternoon too, but that should be pretty easy.”

They talked about school for a bit and Jenna relaxed.  Ava was so vibrant and lively, and there was a small part of Jenna that was jealous of how stylish her younger sister looked in the hand-me-down clothes. 

“We’re going to be rich,” Jenna announced, startling Ava.  They stared at each other for a long moment before Jenna continued.  “Somehow, some way,” she said with an urgent voice and a glance over at Bess who was preening in front of a couple of boys.  “We’re not going to be poor forever,” she vowed. 

Ava reached over and put a small hand over Jenna’s cold fingers.  “I’m sure we will,” she replied, trying to offer support. 

Jenna smiled, then sighed.  “I’m still hungry,” she whispered. 

Ava nodded.  “Me too.” 

 

Zahir’s story…

 

He wondered how much food the table could hold.  There was so much food and everything had been prepared by a talented chef.  Every creation was literally a work of art presented to tempt the royal family’s appetite. 

Zahir stared across the expanse of the low table, watching as his father and mother whispered something in each other’s ear.  The other guests were filling their plates and Zahir cringed at the man with the enormous belly as he plucked another piece of bread onto his plate. 

A moment later, several dancing women pranced out through one of the many doors. This was the entertainment for the night, but the women, with their soulful eyes and their lush bodies…they all left him cold. 

His father stepped up, laughing and clapping at the decadent entertainment while suddenly ignoring his wife.  Zahir watched with revulsion as his father flirted outrageously with the dancing women.  Zahir couldn’t abide by this disrespectful display and stood up, walking out of the dinner. 

His father called after him, but Zahir lifted a hand and continued walking out, not bothering to answer his father’s command. 

Back in his private suite, he looked around at the decadence of the room.  The velvet curtains were lined with silk and the bed was draped in more silks and satins so shiny that, if he didn’t perch carefully on the bed, a body could slide off. 

And yet, there were people in his country that couldn’t afford food.  He’d just left a dinner that had been ten courses of mouthwatering foods, all of which had been rich, scrumptious and heart-clogging. 

Quickly, his mind calculated the expense of the meal.  Turning to his bodyguard, he said, “Go to the kitchens and take the leftover food from tonight’s meal to one of the food shelters.”

Immediately, the guard bowed and turned to follow through on the instruction.  As soon as the guard was gone, Zahir’s tension eased.  It wasn’t much, but at least it was something to help ease the misery that too many people endured every day of their lives. 

 Before the guard had disappeared, he called out, “Wait!”  He pointed to the table where a bowl had been placed.  The bowl was filled with fruit that would most likely go untouched.  “Take that as well.”  He’d never eat any of it.  Why was it even here?  What had happened to the other fruit that he’d ignored over the past several years?  With a grimace, he turned away from the waste.  Walking into his bedroom, he closed the door and sighed, grateful that he was finally alone.  Looking over at the bedside table, he lifted the book and started reading again.  It was a book on how to be a good leader, and one of the tenants espoused in the text was that one needed to understand a person’s motivation.