Life can be a struggle. Sometimes the support you need isn’t there.

 

However, unexpected things can happen. And you realize . . .

 

 

It’s Been A Long Time

 

     Uncle Marcus stared at me in a way that made me quite uncomfortable. I didn’t know what to do. So I just sat in the chair in the living room in silence.

     Then words came rumbling out of his mouth that shook me to my core. “You friggin’ asshole, Aaron,” he screamed. “You’re a damned loser. I don’t know what to do with you. You’re on a path to nowhere.”

     That was twenty years ago and I still couldn’t get it out of my mind. I was only fifteen years old at the time. My life was a mess. My parents had been killed in a car accident, leaving my sister and me as orphans. None of our relatives wanted to care for both of us. So Janet went to live with Aunt Tilly in Chicago. And Uncle Marcus reluctantly became my guardian, . . . but not angel.

     I could never do anything right in his eyes. I was a piece of trash that he never wanted, but didn’t have the right to throw away. I prayed that three years would pass quickly, for at eighteen I could walk out the door of his apartment—a free man.

     One morning, he staggered into my room, holding a glass of booze. He peered at me, in a way that made my skin crawl, and blustered, “What’re you doing?”

     I’m getting ready for school,” I replied

     “You can’t go. I need you to clean up the mess in the kitchen, you friggin’ jerk.”

     “What mess? I didn’t make a mess. And can’t it wait until I come home?”

     “When I say now, I mean now!” he yelled.

     Well, I did clean it up. It took me over two hours to get it to where he was satisfied. Then I turned toward him and asked, “Can you write me a note explaining why I’m so late for school?”

     “That’s not my job, you idiot!” he blurted.

     I held my tongue, trying not to make him angrier, for my future already was looking bleak. But this couldn’t continue. I had to turn my life around.

     When I became sixteen, I made a pledge to myself. As awful as my home life was, I’d make great efforts to do well at school and succeed. I had a dream of a promising future, and it was going to happen, in spite of the way Uncle Marcus treated me.

     After the “clean up the mess” incident, I tried to keep my distance from him and, for the most part, he did the same. He’d lock himself in his room. Making contact with him was difficult. If I needed to see him, he said, “Just knock once—no more.” So this is what I did. And then he’d yell, “Not now! I’m busy, you moron.”

     Busy with what, I wondered? He spent all day in his room. What went on behind that closed door boggled my mind. I had no idea how he made money to pay the bills. Yet, the refrigerator was stocked with food. And he drove a late model Lexus.

     Also, providing me with clothing and school supplies was not a problem. But he remained distant and I knew the love I’d wished for would never become a reality.

     Graduation day was approaching. I didn’t want to do this alone, so one afternoon, after school, I knocked once on his door. There was no response. I started to walk away when . . . the door opened.

     “What the crap do you want?” he shouted.

     “May I ask you something?”

     “What’s so important it couldn’t wait until dinner?”

     “Uh, I’m graduating from high school in two weeks.”

     “Does that mean I’ll be through with you? You’ll be leaving?”

     I’d already turned eighteen last month, but I doubted if he knew or cared. “I don’t know. Since I don’t have money to pay for college. I’m going to get a part-time job and attend the local community college. I’d need to live here. Would that be possible?”

     “Anything’s possible.”

     “Does that mean I could?”

     “Why aren’t you going away to college—like a good student would? Get a scholarship.”

     “I wanted to, but, as my guardian, I needed you to provide me with your income information and other data to fill out the application, but you wanted nothing to do with it.”

     “You never asked.”

     “I knocked on your door, but you never answered.”

     “Is this why you knocked on my door today?”

     “No.”

     “Then why?”

     “My graduation is on June 4^th.”

     “So?”

     “Would you go with me?”

     “You need a date?”

     “No, . . . a father.”

     “I ain’t him, so you’re asking the wrong person.”

     “I don’t want to go alone.”

     “What am I? An escort service?”

     Well, that ended the conversation. I knew I had to get out of the house and away from my “loving” uncle, as soon as possible. So two weeks after graduation, I left—forever. And we never said good-bye.

     After leaving, it seemed my luck might have begun to change. My high school guidance counselor put me in touch with the Groundskeeping Department at Bethany Community College. They were happy to offer me a job as an assistant groundskeeper. It only got better after that. One of the groundskeepers offered me a room in his house, for what I felt was very reasonable rent.

     I did well at Bethany, made some friends, and went home each night to a welcoming “family.” My new life would be the foundation for a great future. After graduating from Bethany with an Associate in Arts Degree, I transferred to the University of Allentown and two years later received my Bachelor of Arts in Business Management.

     With a business degree in hand, I went to work for a business-consulting firm and worked my way up the corporate ladder. Today, at age thirty-five, I’m a successful small business consultant.

     The wounds of the past still hurt. I think about Uncle Marcus from time to time, but have no interest in reaching out to a man who wanted nothing to do with me.

     One morning, I sat at my desk thinking about how I could help a small firm I was consulting with to grow its business. It needed a $500,000 loan to develop a unique product with the possibility of bringing in a lot of money. However, none of the conventional loan companies were interested in taking the risk.

     I picked up the phone and called my boss, Pete Castle. It rang twice and he answered.

     “This is Pete Castle, how can I help you?”

     “Pete, it’s me, Aaron.”

     “What’s up, Aaron?”

     “I have a small start-up company as a client. They have a product idea that has great sales potential. However, they need $500,000 for its development and none of the mainstream loan companies want to get involved. Do you have any suggestions as to who might?”

     “Aaron, there is one agency, or should I say individual, who is up to almost any challenge. He’s not the most hospitable person, but he knows how to make things happen. I think he’s your man. Are you interested?”

     “Yes, I am.”

     “Let me touch base with him first and open the door. If he’s up to the challenge, which I believe he will be, I’ll tell him you’ll be calling.”

     “Thank you, Pete.”

     Five minutes passed and my phone rang. “Aaron, I just got off the phone with the loan guy. He’s very interested in this opportunity, but he has to be in control. So he’ll be calling you.”

     “What’s his name?”

     “All I know is that he goes by “Money Man.” He says he knows you and you’ll understand.”

     “Understand what?”

     “I don’t have a clue, Aaron.”

     “Well, if it means my client gets what he wants, so be it.”

     I hung up, leaned back in my chair, and awaited the call. The phone rang and I answered, “This is Aaron Shelton.”

     “Hello, Aaron. This is Uncle Marcus. It’s been a long time.”

 

 

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