Ephemeral

Chapter 6

Mrs. Del Rio

It’s a sunny afternoon, and the kitchen floor is covered in long shadows. As I cook dinner, the smell of roasted chicken and fresh herbs fills the room. I’m chopping vegetables when I hear the front door open and Jack’s cheerful voice.

“Hi, Mom!” he says as he steps into the kitchen, his backpack slung over one shoulder.

I glance up from my cutting board, my curiosity piqued. “Hey, Jack. How was your session with Mrs. Delgado?”

Jack drops his bag on the kitchen table and looks at me with a mix of excitement and fatigue. “It was really good. We talked a lot about the diaries. I’ve decided to set the American Revolution report aside.”

I pause, surprised. “Really? Why’s that?”

Jack pulls out a chair and sits down. “I’m shifting to a new topic. Mrs. Delgado gave me her mother’s diaries about the Holocaust. I think they’ll make my report stand out.”

I wipe my hands on a towel and lean against the counter. “The Holocaust? That’s quite a change. What made you decide to switch?”

Jack’s eyes light up as he explains. “The American Revolution is covered so much in textbooks. But these diaries offer a personal perspective that’s not often highlighted. I think it’ll make my report more impactful.”

I nod, impressed by his enthusiasm. “That does sound like a powerful topic. Are you ready for the research?”

“Absolutely,” Jack says with determination. “I’m diving into the diaries and other resources. The personal stories are so moving. They’ll add a unique angle to my report.”

I glance at the stack of books and diaries on the table. “Just remember, you still need to finish and submit the other report. Don’t forget that part.”

Jack waves a hand dismissively. “I’ll handle it. Right now, I’m focused on this. The diaries are amazing.”

I smile, seeing how passionate he is. “I’m proud of you for choosing such a meaningful topic. Let me know if you need any help.”

Jack hesitates for a moment, then asks, “By the way, is Macey home?”

I look at him, curious. “Why do you need to know?”

“I want to borrow her laptop,” Jack explains. “I need it for some research for my new report. Mine’s too old to handle the resources I need.”

I nod in understanding. “she should be in her room. I’ll let her know you’re coming.”

Jack flashes me a quick smile before heading down the hallway. As I go back to cooking, I hear him quietly asking Macey for her laptop. Moments like these remind me how important it is to support his interests. I’m excited to see his final report, knowing it will show his hard work and dedication.

****

Later that evening, with the kitchen clean and the aroma of dinner fading, Harold and I decide to check on Jack. The house is quiet, save for the soft hum of Jack’s computer. We exchange glances, our curiosity piqued.

As we approach Jack’s room, Harold gently nudges my arm. “Let’s see how he’s doing,” he whispers, his tone filled with anticipation.

We tiptoe down the hallway and stop at Jack’s door, which is slightly open. Through the small gap, we see a flurry of activity. Jack’s room is full of papers, books, and scattered notes. His desk is covered with open notebooks, colorful sticky notes, and printouts of historical documents. The pages of Mrs. Delgado’s diaries are spread out like important maps, their edges bent from use.

Jack sat at his desk, the diaries spread out before him. The worn covers and delicate pages held a treasure trove of history. He opened the first diary and began to read. One entry caught his attention right away: “We were woken by loud banging on the door. The soldiers stormed in, barking orders. We had only minutes to gather what little we could carry. I looked around at our home one last time, feeling a crushing sense of loss.”

Jack took notes, making sure to capture the emotion and urgency of the moment. He knew these personal stories would add depth to his report.

Another entry was equally moving: “I watched as they took away my neighbor, a kind woman who had always been so gentle. Her children were crying, and I felt a deep, aching sorrow. I tried to comfort them, though my own heart was breaking.”

Jack paused, feeling the weight of the words. He scribbled down more notes, determined to honor these memories in his report.

As he continued reading, he found a reflection on survival and kindness: “Amidst the despair, a stranger offered us a loaf of bread. It was all they had left, but they shared it with us. In that small act of generosity, I found a flicker of hope. It reminded me that even in the darkest times, humanity can still shine through.”

Jack leaned back in his chair, absorbing the powerful message. He knew his report would not only educate his classmates but also touch their hearts.

Harold leans closer, his eyes widening with admiration. “I’ve never seen him so passionate and excited before,” he says softly, a note of awe in his voice.

I smile, my heart swelling with pride. “He’s really immersing himself in this,” I reply. “It’s wonderful to see him so committed.”

Harold chuckles quietly. “Look at that—he’s even got the diaries open. I remember when he was struggling with his other projects. This is different.”

I nod, watching Jack as he mutters to himself, jotting down ideas and cross-referencing information. “It’s like he’s found his groove. It’s good to see him so engaged.”

Harold glances at me. “Do you think he’ll stick with this interest? I mean, it seems like he’s really into it.”

“I hope so,” I say. “It’s important for him to find something that he’s passionate about. This project might be the beginning of something bigger for him.”

Harold smiles, his gaze still fixed on Jack. “I just hope he doesn’t overdo it. He’s been at it for hours. Maybe we should check in with him later.”

“Agreed,” I say. “We don’t want him to get too tired. I’ll make sure he takes a break soon.”

Jack suddenly looks up from his desk, his eyes bright with excitement. “Mom, Dad, did you see what I found? This diary entry talks about an act of kindness during such a dark time. It’s amazing!”

Harold grins and steps into the room. “We saw. It’s incredible to see you so excited. Do you need any help or more resources?”

Jack shakes his head, his enthusiasm evident. “No, I’m good for now. But thank you! I just need to finish these notes and then I’ll take a break.”

I smile, walking over to his desk. “We’re really proud of you, Jack. It’s clear you’re putting your heart into this project.”

Jack beams, his focus unwavering. “Thanks, Mom. I think this is going to be really special.”

As we quietly retreat from the door, we leave him to his work, confident that he is on a path of discovery that will enrich his life in ways we can only begin to imagine.