Prologue:

Charlie Ray Culver was troubled. He'd just sent his son home with his three-year-old granddaughter after a weeklong visit. A visit that proved to the old man that his son wasn't handling fatherhood well. It pained him, for Charlie had always done his best for his only child. Now a man who couldn't cope was fathering his granddaughter, Jesse, the one he called Brighter Than A Thousand Suns. The Iroquois elder pulled his pipe off its hook on the wall and headed for the woods. On reaching his familiar thinking place he set about to start a fire. Rock and flint would have been the tools he favored in the past, but age had given him an appreciation for life's smaller luxuries. Pulling a pack of matches from the pocket of his denim shirt, he nursed a tendril of flame into a fire. Packing his pipe with tobacco, he raised it to the four corners of the earth. Puffing gently on its stem, he allowed the smoke to ease his troubled mind. The late afternoon sun warmed his shoulders as he relaxed against a cedar tree. Coming here to commune with the spirits gave him hope and direction. He watched the sun set, then watched it rise again. Just as he was about to force his bones into standing he felt an old, familiar feeling. The Great Spirit wanted to speak to him. Charlie knew it took spirits some time to send down their messages, so he refilled the pipe, this time offering its smoke up to the heavens. He waited, then waited some more. Off to his left he heard rustling, but paid it no mind in an effort not to miss what the Great Spirit had to say. He hoped it was something for Jesse. Some wisdom that would help him take care of that girl. It humbled him to think the Great Spirit felt he was honorable enough to receive this message, so Charlie waited the rest of the day. At dusk, he decided to wait no more. Maybe the wind had played a trick on him. Maybe the Great Spirit changed His mind. Charlie had heard no magical message, felt no wondrous change. The only thing that crossed his path the entire day was a grumpy wolverine…

Borrowed Time

By: Lorry Guffey

"Hey, there's a dude on the back step, be careful."

Jesse looked up from her orders as the lanky teenaged dishwasher breezed in, 15 minutes late.

"A dude?" she raised an eyebrow, dropping the slips of paper and threading her way thru the kitchen to peer thru the window. There was a shadowy form there, shoulders hunched against the wind. She was reaching to open the door when the diner's owner, Tony, called her from the grill.

"These cheese steaks get peppers an' onions?"

"Don't they all get peppers an' onions?" she answered, turning from the door and back into action. Tony's Diner was busy tonight. She'd have to hustle to take care of the front by herself. This was the way she liked it: rushed, a little chaotic, but under control. She knew that was the reason Tony kept putting off hiring another server. He liked watching Jesse in action. He threw her a grin as she pulled her cap down over her braided hair and smoothed out her apron. He knew she was getting down to business. His business. Making money at one of the only joints left hopping in Cedar Ridge.

She turned back to the smoky kitchen and started picking up orders. It crossed her mind to inform her boss of their latest back-step visitor, but she thought better of it, pushing thru the swinging doors, arms loaded. Tony wasn't always nice to those people. And much of the time, they were her people. She made a mental note that if he was still around, she'd throw something in a to-go carton later, when things in the diner slowed down.

Later came earlier than expected, as the joint emptied out close to 7pm. Most of the diner's regulars confessed to hurrying home to watch a big game. After checking to see if their visitor still sat on the diner's back step, Jesse made him a thick ham and Swiss sandwich with all the trimmings. It was chilly outside. She frowned over the food, wishing she could have made something hot. But that would have drawn her boss's attention, and at the moment, she didn't wanna go there. He was miffed that his customers had cut out on him, so once again she'd done something stupid and reminded him he should set up a TV in the dining room. Once again she'd gotten the speech about how that was not a good idea.

"Means customers stay too long, tie up my tables, yada, yada, yada," she mocked him under her breath, pushing out the back door with the trash and her gift of food. Never mind that tied up tables were better than empty ones. Or that if Tony's had a TV they could've all enjoyed a football party. But it wasn't her diner. It wasn't her place.

She stood for a moment waiting as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. This wasn't the first time she'd smuggled food out the back door to help someone in need. Her grandfather had instilled in her the belief that helping others out was merely being human. She knew to be wary, but tried to balance that out with compassion. It was hard for her to imagine not knowing where her next meal was coming from.

For a minute, she thought she had missed him. Shadows had lengthened and the back steps were dark. Reaching back inside, she flipped a switch that bathed them in light. The sight of him stopped in her tracks. This was no ordinary vagrant. Broad shoulders strained against the flannel of his shirt and Jesse could see thick muscled arms bulging from under his sleeves. With his chest clenched tight against his knees, and his head hanging low, for a minute she thought he was hurt. She dropped the trash bags she'd been dragging and stepped forward, reaching out to touch his shoulder.

"You ok, guy?" she asked, crouching down beside him. Her eyes grew wide as he turned to face her, grabbing the arm that offered the to-go carton. Their eyes locked, the only sound between them the squeak of Styrofoam grating against itself as the muscles in her hand were manipulated by his grip. It took him a second to focus, to realize she meant no harm. He dropped her wrist, pulling away and mumbling something that sounded like "Sorry."

"Didn't mean to scare you," she stood up, smoothing her apron and trying to act as though she hadn't seen the fire in his eyes. The danger so close to the surface it left her a little shaky.

'Look before you leap,' she told herself for the millionth time, chiding herself for not thinking through her actions. Her culture called her to walk in respect and compassion, but sometimes she was slow in realizing that not everybody operated on the same principles. Thanks to the genes of her grandfather, Jesse was also slow to give up, and not very good at backing down. Closing her eyes, she took a breath and remembered her mission.

"I brought you some food. Thought you might be hungry."

The stranger searched her face for what felt to Jesse like an eternity. When he seemed satisfied that she posed no threat she offered the to-go box again.

"It's just a sandwich and some fries," she shrugged, a little embarrassed. "I didn't mean to disturb you. Just thought you might need something…"

The man before her looked away and she wondered if his ego was fighting with his hunger. Most of those she'd met here had faced down that battle long before they'd ended up at Tony's.

"I'm just gonna… leave this." She settled for backing away a little this time, setting the box down at his side, and stealing one more moment to take him in. Something about him stirred her. He was obviously lost, and in more ways than one. Then she heard Tony shouting for her inside and remembered the trash, closing up early, and her boss's ill mood.

"Please," she stood up. "Take that. It'll just go in the trash if you don't. And I'm sorry." It took a while to register that she wasn't quite sure what she'd apologized for. There was nothing more she could do. She'd puzzle about the odd stranger later. For now she had work to do.

It was almost a week later before Daniel, Tony's dishwasher, announced the "homeless dude" again. He came in through the back door, smelling strongly of whatever cologne guys were using these days to cover up the scent of marijuana.

"It's nut-bustin' cold out there too, man," he added, pulling off his coat. "Wouldn't wanna be homeless on a night like tonight."

Jesse frowned at him. He was late again, and obviously heartless. His long black ponytail and dark eyes suggested he was of the same native people as she was, but he'd obviously never been taught their customary ways to be 'human'. Giving up hope that she'd ever see an ounce of compassion in him, she looked thru the grimy back window to confirm his announcement. The stranger was there all right. He didn't look quite as dejected this time, but his shoulders still slumped, and he wrapped his arms around himself against the cold.

"How do you know he's homeless?" she questioned.

Daniel gave her an are-you-kidding-me look that she knew quite well. "Only takes one wiff as you walk by to answer that one. Same shirt, same jeans. He's homeless."

"Then maybe we should help him."

"Maybe we should leave him alone, he doesn't belong here. That whole 'Thanksgiving' thing happened like 300 years ago. You don't have to reenact it every time somebody shows up out there."

"Damn," she muttered, turning on Daniel and refusing his logic.

"Don't we have a crap load of jackets in that lost-and-found box in the back closet? Maybe there's something in there that'll at least keep him warm."

Daniel just shrugged and started turning the knobs that filled up his dishwasher. He'd lost this battle with his coworker before. He was barely 19 and didn't have much practice with either patience or compassion.

"He ain't my project."

Jesse stared his back for a minute, shaking her head. She opened her mouth to start in on one of her speeches, but knew it would fall on deaf ears.

"That's what's wrong with the world anymore," she muttered to only herself. "Nobody wants to plant seeds of kindness." Seeds of California Gold, in Daniel's case maybe, but not kindness.

Pulling open the closet door revealed a box that was indeed overflowing with coats, umbrellas and other things left behind by forgetful patrons. She rummaged through, holding up several selections, then tossing them aside. Something leather and fleece near the bottom finally caught her attention, so she tugged and yanked till she finally got it out. It was the heaviest thing in the box, and looked like the right size.

"This'll work," she decided, just as she decided the stranger would surely accept it. In her mind, his saying no would be impractical. To Jesse it was simple: it was cold. Someone needed a coat. Jesse had one she could give. End of story.

"Hey… I could use a nice coat like that one," Daniel stretched one arm toward her as Jesse walked through the kitchen to the back door.

She stared him down, daring him to take it out of her arms.

"Just sayin…" the boy turned back to the stainless steel sink. "Damn, you don't have to be such a hardass."

"I'm the hardass?" She raised one eyebrow in his direction. "I'm the one trying to help. You just keep washing those dishes… that's much more important."

"Stupid boy." She clutched the coat to her chest and pushed out the back door. This time it was still light. She could study the stranger, the lines on his face and the weariness in his eyes. He had no way of knowing about the young woman in front of him. He could see she was pretty, but as for her being pretty determined, that was yet to be revealed.

Jesse did her best to take him in with an air of nonchalance. It was enough that he was down on his luck; she didn't want him to think she was looking down on him. She had no idea the stranger didn't much care. That he wasn't just down on his luck, his luck was gone.

"I thought you could use this," she told him holding up a fleece-lined leather jacket, just as a cold northeasterly wind hit her full force. She shivered violently and fought against it.

"It was in the lost-and-found box. If nobody's missed it by now," She shrugged and fiddled with the jacket's brass buttons, "I figure it's yours."

He stood to his feet and tried on a smile, but it was obviously something he hadn't used in a while.

"You take care of everybody that ends up at your back door?"

His voice was like him, ragged and scruffy. Jesse smiled back, noting that the friendly emotion never quite reached his eyes.

"I heard it was supposed to get really cold out, is all." she replied, trying her best to stop her teeth from chattering. "I can take it back in if you don't think you'll need it." She half-turned back to the door.

"Oh no, I'll take it." he answered. "Just wondering why you bother to help me." He pulled the coat out of her arms, running a hand down the thick inner lining.

"You sure nobody's gonna miss this?"

"It was in our lost and found box. I think it's been there a while." She looked up at him, suppressing a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold. He had dark hair that seemed to be going everywhere at once. It ran all the way down the sides of his face and along his jaw line, giving him a wolfish appearance. His eyebrows knit together in dismay as he accepted the coat. Reflexively she reached out to pluck something fuzzy off the sleeve as he shrugged it over his shoulders.

"Yeah, it's been there a while."

"Thank you."

She backed away, knowing a dismissal when she heard one. But she wasn't quite finished with her mission. "I can bring you a sandwich out later."

The stranger shrugged and shook his head a little. "You've done enough. I can handle myself."

"I didn't mean that you couldn't," she tossed her head and took a step forward. "Just thought you mighta hit a rough spot. The world would be a better place if we helped each other out. We all hit rough spots." Boldness overtook her then and from the bottom step, she stuck out her hand. "I'm Jesse Culver, by the way."

The stranger stared at her hand for a long moment. His eyes glazed over and she dropped it back to her side, feeling foolish. She was about to turn away when he reached out his own.

"I'd give you my name if I knew it." He fumbled with a flash of metal at his chest. "Dog tags say Logan. Other side says 'Wolverine'."

Her breath caught in her throat as he reached to shake her hand. She'd obviously read him wrong. Now her mind filled with questions that she knew he couldn't answer, and she could hear Tony hollering for her inside.

"Nice to meet you, Logan. Wolverine. I…" his grip was strong, the bones and muscles in his hand unflinching. "I gotta go to work but I'll be back. I'll fix you that sandwich. Hot ham and cheese?"

"Make it cheddar this time," he tried smiling again, but the sun got in his eyes and he dropped his gaze. He wasn't used to the kindness of strangers. Abuse he was well acquainted with, but this kind of stubborn compassion was new.

"Ok," Jesse flashed him a grin as she slipped inside the diner. "Hot ham and cheddar it is."