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OSCAR AGUILAR ENDS up staying with his younger brother, a forty-seven-year-old bachelor who lives alone in a one-bedroom apartment. Oscar's new bed is his brother's couch, which—according to the thoughts in our charge's head—is a little bit worse than the bed in his jail cell. He feels the same way about mealtimes too. He likes the prison food better than his frozen meatloaf dinner.
It sounds like he misses prison, and I don't want him in that state of mind. Several years ago, one of my charges was an ex-con, and he couldn't handle the world outside of his cell. It was so foreign to him, he committed another crime to get back to his comfort zone. It was one of the first and only missions I failed, and I won't see it happen again. I need to give Oscar a reason to try harder.
I need to get his daughter back in his life. That is our mission.
“So, how are we gonna do this?” Ben asks. “How are we going to get Oscar's daughter to talk to him?”
It's ten o'clock at night, and we're sitting with the brothers in a living room that smells like coffee and incense. Travis Aguilar is obsessed with both. Since we've been here, he's burned six incense sticks, four incense cones, and brewed three pots of coffee. There are definitely worse smells in the world, but it's a little overwhelming.
I don't reply to Ben's question right away, because I honestly don't know. All I can think about is losing my chance to become an Archangel. It's hard to concentrate on anything else.
For Ben's sake, I try to focus. “Well, we probably need to get Tim out of the way for awhile,” I suggest. “Tim is Natalya's husband. It really does seem like he might be pulling the strings and calling the shots.”
“What do you think about all the stuff that Tim said?” Ben asks. “Do you think Natalya might be better off without her dad?”
“I don't know, but it's not our place to try to figure it out. Our job is to help Oscar, and Oscar wants to talk to his daughter.” Ben doesn't look too satisfied by that answer, so I try again, “In most cases, I think forgiveness is a good thing, so... we're probably doing the right thing.”
“Probably doing the right thing,” repeats a chuckling Ben. “You don't sound too sure of yourself.”
“Well, I've done some research on Oscar, and he was never physically abusive or anything like that,” I reply. “He made a lot of mistakes... the armed robbery being one of them... but I think he deserves another chance.”
Every few minutes, Oscar's mouth is stretched open by a huge yawn. He could probably benefit from a nap—or a huge cup of his brother's coffee.
“I can't believe you watch this crap,” Oscar says, flicking a hand at the television screen. For the last twenty minutes, they've been watching the movie Love Actually.
“It's a classic. I always watch it when it's on tv,” Travis says.
Oscar doesn't say anything else, but words aren't necessary here. The disgusted look on his face says more than enough.
“Alright... the truth is, I used to watch it with Amanda,” the younger brother explains. “It was one of her favorites, okay? And I miss her. Don't judge.”
Ben, his eyes wide and bright, exclaims, “Hey! You know that iconic scene from this movie where the guy holds up the cards and confesses his feelings for the girl? Maybe Oscar could do something like that with Natalya?”
Like Oscar, I let my expression do the talking. I give Ben my best “are you crazy?” face and let it speak for itself.
Ben asks, “What? You don't like that idea?”
“I just don't think you could get a guy like Oscar to do something like that.” I glance at our charge, still sneering at the movie. I stare at his massive arm, and his many colorful tattoos.
“How do you know if you don't try?”
I appreciate Ben's optimism, but Oscar really doesn't strike me as a sentimental kind of guy. He doesn't look like a guy who would pour his heart into words. Still, if Ben has an idea, I should probably be supportive. “You can give it a shot... I guess. Stranger things have happened.”
Twenty minutes later, when Oscar's pen touches paper, I have to eat my words. He really is writing some sentimental thoughts to Natalya. He expresses his feelings neatly in big, bold, black letters.
I might be the instructor in this scenario, but I'm still learning lessons. Today's lesson, brought to me by Ben, is to stop making assumptions about people. I'm usually pretty good about giving my charges the benefit of the doubt, but this one really surprised me.
“Ben, if you have one outstanding ability, it's getting through to people,” I commend him. “You gave Oscar a really specific idea and made it happen. I'm impressed.”
“Ehh, it wasn't much,” Ben says. “Besides, it's too soon to celebrate. We don't even know if this'll work.”
Our mission resumes the next day, after Natalya's husband heads off to work. I don't know what Tim does for a living, and I don't care to know, I just need him gone for the day. We don't need him standing guard at the door, telling Oscar to go away.
Once everyone is in place, I head to Natalya's room and encourage her to look out the window. It takes me a moment to motivate her, but she eventually gets up and peeks through the curtain.
I hear a little gasp when she sees her dad standing below her window, posters in hand.
Ben gives me a thumbs up when Oscar holds up his first message.
DADDY MISSES YOU.
I try to read Natalya's face, to guess what she's thinking, but there isn't a vague smile or pinched brow to give me a clue. I guess I won't know until this is over.
Oscar drops his first poster, revealing more words underneath.
I KNOW I MESSED UP
Even if this doesn't end well, I'm amazed that Oscar would try so hard. I'm sure this is pretty far out of his comfort zone.
Oscar unveils more posters, revealing sentiment after sentiment to the woman in the window.
I'M PROUD OF YOU
YOU WERE THE ONLY GOOD THING
I PUT INTO THIS WORLD
I LOVE YOU
I whisper a suggestion to Natalya, but I don't know if it'll help. “I think you should talk to him. I'm sure he made some mistakes, but... forgiveness is a good thing. If your dad died tomorrow, you might wish you had this chance.”
Oscar holds up his final three posters.
TELL PORTIA
GRANDPA WISHES
HE COULD HUG HER
All of a sudden, the front door bursts open, and a seven-year-old, pigtailed little girl dashes out of the house. She throws her arms around Oscar and buries her face against his chest. When I look down at Ben, he gives me another thumbs up.
“Look, Portia is willing to give him a chance,” I whisper. “She's never even known her grandpa, but she's giving him a chance to prove himself. I think you should too, Natalya.”
A moment later, the curtain closes, and a reluctant Natalya shuffles to the door. She pauses a moment, grabs her jacket, and heads downstairs to greet the man she hasn't seen in years.
I wring my hands and follow her outside, where Oscar is still embracing Portia. He releases the child as his daughter approaches.
“Dad...” Tears waver in Natalya's eyes as she speaks. “Dad, I... I think we have a lot of catching up to do.”