A Teenager's Journey by Richard B. Pelzer Page B

dead.”
    “Let me guess. She said, ‘I don’t care if that son of a bitch comes back in a pine box.’ She’s told me that a thousand times before,” I said.
    The look on Clay’s face was beyond shock. He was dumbfounded. Silence filled the room as we stared at each other.
    “I’ll make you a deal,” he said. “We’ll make some changes and we’ll both start over fresh. But I’m telling you, any more alcohol or drugs and I’ll find a way to get you out of here. Deal?”
    “Deal!” I agreed.
    By the time I left the office, I felt I had finally got somewhere—reached someone that I could talk to and that would try to understand. I could tell Clay was really interested in helping me understand who I was and what I was doing to myself.
    Within the next week I was to move to the island of Maui with a whole new group of kids, and Clay. I was told that they had to move me and tell the other kids that I’d been sent home, or they wouldn’t have any control over them. It was okay with me. Soon I was on a small plane to my new home just a few miles away. It seemed like another world, another chance.

8
    A S ECOND C HANCE
    Finally I came to the conclusion that I was the one that had to get my life in order—not God. It wasn’t God that needed another chance from me; I needed to give
myself
another chance. I had to find the courage and the strength to forgive myself and allow myself another chance to grow up.
    T HE NEW SURROUNDINGS WERE almost what I had expected. The plantation house was larger than the dorms on Lanai. Maui was a much larger island. Having Clay there made it easier for me to fit in. The first day, I was asked to meet him at the main house, where he introduced me to the other counselors and the other teens. Clay and I, in a private talk earlier, had agreed that we had made mistakes on Lanai and we should both try to understand each other a little better and work toward a common goal.
    “What I need you to do is to find out what you want to accomplish here on Maui and how the two of us can work toward it,” he told me.
    Now I had another chance to seek help, to try to understand why I was comfortable with being so self-destructive. I now had someone who wasn’t
too
close to me, yet was close enough to see and understand what I was going through. I felt comfortable with Clay and his desire to understand and help me.
    I left the main house to walk back to my room. I strolled out into the fields behind the house and through the pineapples, then down the red clay road. I would probably never again have a chance like I had now, I decided. I knew that Clay would be able to help me get past the issues I had. I knew that I could confide in him, and had confidence that I would be able to leave when I was ready and never see him again. It had never before struck me so forcibly that what I’d needed all along was the security of talking to someone that wasn’t too close to the situation. That way I wouldn’t feel as though I was being judged. John and Darlene were too close, I felt too much emotion for them. I was so afraid of disappointing them that I seldom shared much more than a few minor problems. Finally I had the desire to open up and see if I really was as crazy as I’d always thought I must be.
    I walked about a mile into the fields, and found myself completely alone. One of the many times I’ve acted on the need to talk to God was at that moment. I knelt down in the clay at the side of the road.
    I’m sorry. I didn’t get the message the first time
.
    If you help me understand I will quit the drugs.
    If you help me learn who and what I am or why I’m here, I’ll listen.
    Please?
    As I awaited a response, a feeling of comfort came over me. I recalled the previous times that I felt this kind of emotion. I thought back to when I was much younger, holding a gun in my hand, and the voice that had scared me into backing down, making me lower the gun and walk away from Mom’s bedside. I recalled