Second Chance(Darrell Case) Oliver Danils ambled down the street. Released just this morning from his fourth stretch in prison. This one 10 years. The old town was not the same. Businesses gone. He had inquired about the restaurant. The owner died five years ago. The hardware closed down nine years before. At least the old Regis hotel, though just barely. He walked in the front door. It was worse than he remembered.

“What ye want.” The black man said. Oliver noticed the pistol lying on the desk. He spoke through the wire-mesh glass. He looked at the elderly man. Prison. Been there a while.
“Room.” He said. He felt that the single word, ‘Room,’ could summarize his entire life. All his life, he had been searching for room.
“How long?” The man said, his fingers inching toward the pistol. Someone had robbed him before.
“One night.” Oliver said.
“50 bucks. You plan stay longer, you pay in advance.”
Oliver counted out the money and waited for his receipt. The man counted the money and put it in his pocket.
“Receipt.” Oliver said, wondering how much this man had stolen from the owner of the hotel.
“Don’t give receipts.” The man said, grinning.
“Give me back my money I’ll stay somewhere else.” Oliver said, thinking he had just lost 50 dollars.
The man glared at him for a few seconds. Then tore a corner of a sheet of paper, wrote on it and handed it to him. “Now get outa here. I’m busy.”
“Yeah. I can see that.” He said severely. “Key?”
“Ain’t got no keys. You lock it from the inside.” He grinned. “Different from your cell.”

Would it always be this way? The pallor of prison followed him everywhere. He climbed the stairs. The elevator didn’t work. After stopping three times, he made it to the fifth floor. As he opened the door of 504, a musty smell hit him. The room was dirty; the sheets on the bed were filthy.
Sitting on the bed, he thought of his life. At this rate, hell would be a step up. In the bathroom, he looked in the mirror. A young boy looked back at him. Turning around quickly, he almost fell. Nobody there. Clutching the basin, he looked in the mirror. The boy was still there. Only one reflection: this boy, this child.
“This is not possible. It can’t be happening. I’m dreaming.” Oliver told himself. He looked again at his reflection in the mirror. Instead of the 80-year-old man, he saw a 16-year-old kid. A kid not even old enough to shave. There was something very wrong here. He raised his hand and waved at his reflection. The boy waved back. He tried dancing a jig the boy did the same. “Who are you?” he shouted at the mirror.
Incredibly, the boy leaned forward and said. “I’m you at 16. God has given you a great gift. A chance to live your life over. Take my hand.” The boy reached out from the glass of the mirror.
His hand trembling, Oliver reached out and touched the boy’s fingers. He felt a charge surge through his body. He fell to the floor and looked around him. He was back in his old bedroom.

Oliver looked at his 12-year-old sister standing with her hand on the knob of the open door.
“told you. You sleep too close to the edge.” She said, laughing.
“You…you can’t be here. You died ten years ago.”
“Ok sure. If you don’t get your butt in gear, you’re going to miss the bus. She shut the door to his bedroom. He heard her going down the hallway. Mom, he’s up.”
He looked at the calendar he had tacked to the wall. A chill ran through his body. Today. Today was the day that changed his life. What he decided today would send him to prison four times. He would become a user, then a pusher. His life would comprise of how much he could make on each transaction. He would end up in a dirty hotel room. A gaunt, wasted old man. Today. Today, he had a chance to change his life.

He dressed and came into the kitchen. His mother, alive again, turned from the range. “Well, Mr. Big shot, today is the day.”
She knows. Panic ran through him. “What…what do you mean?" He said that suddenly, the room felt warmer.
“Today you get your license. “ His sister Ruthy said, grinning.
“Oh…yeah, I forgot.” He stammered.
“You forgot?” His mother said, setting a plate of bacon and eggs in front of him. “How could you forget? You've been bugging us for the last six months.”
“I…I don’t know.” He felt trapped.
“Hurry up and eat. The bus will be here soon. And remember, I will pick you up right after school.” She smiled and filled the sink with water.

Feeling he was missing something, he hurriedly ate the eggs and bacon. Grabbing their books, they ran out the door. They were standing at the end of the driveway when the school bus topped the hill. Miss Betty opened the door of the bus. She smiled at the two new occupants. Oliver was in the sixth grade before he knew her last name was Brown. “Morning guys. Hurry and take a seat. We’re running a little late.”

There he was. Ben Hardges, or Benny, as some kids called him. This morning, he would offer Oliver some magic pills. Oliver set down in an empty seat half way of the bus. Benny darted between seats. Betty, looking in her mirror, admonished the teenager. “Benny, find a seat and stay there, please.”
“Yes, maam.” He said. Then to Oliver. “My cousin gave me these cool pills last night. He said they’ll change your life.” He whispered.
Oliver stared in horror at the pills, which started him on a journey that led him to the death of his friends and prison. With all the strength he could muster, he shouted. “No, get them pills away from me. They will destroy your life. Miss Betty, he’s got dope.” Benny paled. Betty pulled the bus to the side of the gravel road. Ben tried to push the pills into his pocket. Before he could get his hand out of his pocket, Betty was there. She held out her hand, palm up. “Ok Benny, hand it over.”
“What?” Benny said, his face flushed.
“The pills you have in your pocket or I can have the police search you when we get to the school.” Betty said.
His fingers shaking, Ben laid some pills in Betty’s hand. She turned away. “He’s got more of them.” Oliver shouted. Every eye on the bus was on them.
Betty faced the teenager. “Alright, Benny, you give me every pill or we set here and wait for the cops. Do you want all these children to see you being taken off this bus in handcuffs? And believe me, the police will find all the pills when they strip-search you.”
His hands shaking, Benny lay the last of the pills in Betty’s palm. “Is that all of them?” Betty said, not moving.
“Yes,” Benny said, hanging his head.
“Okay, I believe you. Come up and sit in the front seat so I can keep an eye on you.” Betty said, clutching the pills in her right hand as she guided the young boy with her left. As he exited the school bus, Benny leaned over and said in a shaky voice. “I’m gonna kill you.”

The principal was coming out of the door of the school. Oliver looked back as Betty closed the folding door to the bus. He caught the toe of his shoe on the concrete. The ground rushed up at him.

“Pastor, are you alright?” Oliver looked around at his ornate office. The awards, the pictures on all three walls. Some with presidents. Several with his children and grandchildren. He looked up into the face of Ben Hardges. The floor to ceiling windows displayed the vast church grounds. The decision he made at 16 changed the direction of his life. High school, then college and seminary. The early hungry years. Just him and his wife, then the babies, now grandchildren. Soon, in the next six months, great-grandchildren. A full life filled with doing God’s will.
“Yes, yes, Benny, I’m alright.” Ben helped him up and into his desk chair. “Must have caught my foot on something.”
Ben laughed. “You must have hit your head. You haven’t called me Benny since high school.”
“Ben, you remember that morning on the bus when I told Betty Brown you had those pills?” Oliver said, settling back in his desk chair with a sigh.
“Remember? Of course I do. They suspended me for two weeks. My dad was really upset with my cousin. Banned him from coming to our house for six months. Had a trip to the woodshed, so to speak. The greatest thing he did was to have our pastor speak to me. I received Christ that day. He changed my life.”
“Mine too.” Oliver said with tears in his eyes. “Mine too.”

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