A Hope of Redemption

Chapte 1: The Past and All Its Glory

I remember a time not too long ago. I remember feeling like a loser, but didn't have to worry about my soul. I remember being tired, yet it was only because of my job, not because of my situation. I wish I could go back to that time. I had bills. I had a possible eviction coming up. I had financial problems. I worried about what I was going to do, and how I got there, but I wasn't worried about whether or not my soul was damned.

I guess I should start from the beginning. My name is Chantry Baker. I was living in New York City. I left school and went into working odd jobs here and there, hoping one day I could land something permanent. I thought that day finally happened.

The sun was hot and bright. Chantry felt sticky and overall uncomfortable, but he continued to do his job, working the road stomper. He wished that either the sun would hide behind the thick heavy clouds that seemed to surround the area, or that his job would be done. Since he'd been working on the area for a few hours now, his muscles were starting to get sore and tired from hanging on to the machine. He'd already removed his over-shirt and was now in his jeans and a tank-top, but that didn't help.

Finally coming to a stop, he turned off the machine and ran his arm across his brow, removing the sweat that had built up. Taking a deep breath and exhaling loudly, he looked around and realized he still had a ways to go, but now was as good as any time to take a break. Especially since his knee was starting to ache a bit. Walking over to the shade of a nearby tree, Chantry overlooked the area of the construction sight as he grabbed a cup and poured himself some water from a large cooler.

"How's it going?"

Turning to see who was talking, Chantry noticed it was Albert Briggs. "It's hot," was all Chantry stated as he turned back to the sight. Albert had been the man that recommended me to the sight foreman. If it weren't for this man, I would be in line today attempting to collect unemployment. We'd worked together on various projects, but I had a slight issue that prevented most people from hiring me. When I was in high school, I was one of the best soccer players the state had ever seen. Most of my coaches believed I would be one to go professional, and I too began to believe it as well. Problem was an injury to my ACL. Since then, I lost all hopes of playing for a pro team, and even a shot at a descent life.

The day the injury happened, my entire life crumbled and I quickly fell onto hard times. Dropping out of school wasn't the best decision I had made, but it was 'my' choice. Since then, I worked odd jobs here and there, mostly construction. That was all thanks to Albert Briggs. Albert had seen the hard times I had crawled through, and had done everything in his power to help keep me on his feet. A few years of convincing the foreman I was the right man for the job, and of course, working my butt off, lead to all three of us fudging a bit of the paperwork and keeping the jobs a little hush hush.

Although I would never admit it to him, I felt as though I owned Albert my life, and never once complained about the harshness of each job. I'd worked in such areas as brick laying, road paving, and even machine operating such as demolitions and digging. The jobs kept me in decent shape and definitely outdoors, even if winter time was freezing, and summer was blazing. But again, I never once said anything bad in hopes that it kept a roof over my head. And when I would start to feel the ache of the injury flare, I would do everything in my power to help alleviate the pain before it got out of control. This was easier in the olden days when I was still in my teens, but now I was pushing early thirties, and it was getting more and more difficult to ease the situation.

"How's the knee," Albert asked as he grabbed himself a cup of water and stared out into the sight Chantry was so enthralled with.

"It's okay. Wish it would go away, but say la vee."