I have an unpublished novel "sitting" in my computer. I would like to post a copy of the first chapter here, to get some feedback/reactions, but it's a long chapter, and really not amenable to the copy/paste technique. Is there any way to post here, and attach a file to the post? Any help you can give me would be appreciated.

UPDATE: Here goes. I am pasting a few pages of the first chapter of the book here, so I can get some feedback from folks with greater sophistication than my own. The basic plot of the book is that this retired school teacher takes in a young Native American boy, because she thinks he is not getting adequate care from his father. The child's great-uncle ends up getting involved in his care, and he and the school teacher fall in love.

Chapter 1
GRACE AND LEVI

Grace Alden looked at her life and saw “boring.” A boring name: five letters, five letters. A boring life. But now she sat on her front porch and surveyed her new neighborhood. She had recently moved into a new home. New home, new town, new state. She had lived in Michigan for most of her life, but then decided to move to New Mexico. The home she lived in now had been extensively renovated. What she had bought, at a tax foreclosure sale, was a very dilapidated house. She had purchased the “shell” of a house for only a few thousand dollars, and then sank a lot of money (for her, anyway) into renovating it.

She knew she might not be entirely welcome in this community. The house she had purchased was just off the edge of the Wetumpka Native American reservation, and she was sure there were local residents who felt she was barging in where she wasn’t wanted. Grace had to admit that the proximity to the reservation was part of the appeal of the location; she had left her home in Michigan after retiring, and wanted an entirely different type of place. Her life had been in such a rut, she was nearly living in a ditch! She was looking for something entirely different, and Needleboro was what she settled on. She wasn’t expecting anyone to entertain her, that much was certain, and she was more than willing to contribute to her new community, once she could figure out what she might be able to offer.

Grace used a scooter to get around, and she was an extra-large woman, so she had had all the rooms in her new home made to fit handicap-accessible standards. The doorways were extra-wide, and the rooms were large enough for her to get around all the beds, if necessary, to change the sheets. She was hoping to find someone locally to do cleaning and bed-changing, laundry and other chores for her, but she knew she could do it in a pinch. Not that she wanted to, you understand, but she could, if absolutely necessary.

The house had four bedrooms and two bathrooms. One of the bathrooms was an en suite
attached to her bedroom, intended for her personal use, but both bathrooms could accommodate her scooter, if necessary. There was a guest bedroom, and a third room she had planned to use as a craft room, with a large table to work on against one wall, shelving units and closet for storage of a wide variety of items, and a day bed that could be used for a guest if needed. The final bedroom was really not sized to be used as a bedroom, and was used as an office. There was a desk with a laptop on it, a printer on a small nearby table, and a small bookcase with a few reference books in it. Grace was satisfied with all these arrangements; it was probably a little more house than she actually needed, but she was also a bit of a hoarder, so the extra space was
welcome. She told people that her home “was littered with the bones of former hobbies,” and that was true. She had leftovers from all sorts of craft projects, and while it was all stuff she probably could have thrown away, as well as miscellaneous items she had “gotten a good deal on,” she hadn’t had the strength of will to discard much of it yet.

Grace wasn’t a very outgoing person. She never knew how to start the process of getting to know people. She had gotten lonely, so when she moved to Needleboro, she had adopted the habit of sitting on her front porch and speaking to people as they passed by. Grace hoped that this strategy would allow her to get to know more people, and break the pattern of isolation she could easily adopt. The house lacked much of a front yard, so sitting on the front porch put her only a few yards from people walking by. If they were in a hurry, they just said “hello” and went right on by. If they had more time, or if they were curious and had come down the street to have a look at her, they stopped to talk and ask questions. Kids were often the most curious; most of them had to walk past her house to get to and from school, and they wanted to know about her.

Needleboro was a small town, and it was surprising that it had its own school. It operated almost like a one-room schoolhouse; each teacher being responsible for two or three grades, depending on enrollment that year. She had discovered that last year’s senior class had been six students. It was a point of pride for the community that no one had dropped out of that class from kindergarten through twelfth grade, and that, of the six students, three had gone on to college, one to an apprenticeship program, and two to the military. Grace had retired from a career in teaching. Actually, she had been a college professor, but she had decided not to furnish that information immediately upon arrival in town. People were often suspicious of colleges, and of professors, and Grace decided not to handicap herself with the label. Better to hold that information back unless it might be helpful.

One of the children she had seen passing by her house was a little boy who looked to be five or six years old. He had long hair, as did many of the other little boys, but Grace thought he often looked a bit unkempt. His clothes didn’t fit him well, and it seemed that he wore the same clothing several days in a row, although Grace couldn’t be 100% sure of that; she wasn’t paying attention that closely. He lacked a jacket on days when other kids were bundled up. She wondered about him, but didn’t know who she could ask. She also realized she didn’t even know his name, so there was really no way for her to ask anyone else about him. He often walked by on the other side of the street, so she had never spoken directly to him.

Most children walked home from school in twos and threes. They often stopped at someone’s home, probably for snacks and playtime. This little boy always walked alone, and very slowly. He didn’t seem at all eager to get home. Sometimes he came walking back to school a half-hour or more after he had left; it wasn’t clear why he would be going back to school after that much time had passed.

One of the older students Grace had gotten to know was a young woman named Barbara Ramírez. Barb had three younger siblings, and she held the family together for them. Barb ran errands for Grace; she picked up orders at Save-mart (located in the “big town,” Santa Lucia, fifteen miles away), she ran to the pharmacy, and ran other errands as needed. Barb’s mom had an alcohol problem; if Barb had extra cash in her pocket, her mom talked her out of it, even going so far as to filch money from Barb’s wallet while she slept. So the plan Barb and Grace arrived at was that there would be a gift card waiting for Barb as part of the order she was picking up. She could use it for whatever she needed; she then brought home food, clothing, paper products, etc. There was no cash to be siphoned off, and neither kids’ underwear or nor packages of tortillas, for example, had much street value. Mrs. Ramírez had to find another source for money for alcohol, the younger kids’ wardrobes gradually were upgraded, the family diet had improved, and Barb and Grace had developed a very practical and beneficial relationship. Both lives were benefitted by the exchange.

Barb happened to stop by just as the little boy was passing by on the other side of the street. Grace asked who he was, and Barb said, “That’s Levi Mireles. Poor little kid, his life is a mess. His grandfather José used to take care of him, but he died about a year ago. Since then, Levi’s father is taking care of him – or at least, he is supposed to be taking care of him. But his dad, Gabriel, is an alcoholic, big-time, and I think a lot of the time he is too drunk to really take care of Levi. I don’t even know if Gabriel is home a lot, either, but no one is brave enough to check.”

“Where is Levi’s mom?” Grace wondered.

“She disappeared when Levi was about three,” Barb replied. “José, Levi’s abuelo (grandfather) got up one morning and she was just gone, her and a suitcase. That’s when José started taking care of Levi. José took pretty good care of Levi for a couple of years and then died real sudden. That’s when things really started going sideways for poor little Levi.”

“Isn’t there a social worker or someone who can step in?” Grace asked. “The poor kid doesn’t look like he gets very well taken care of.”

Barb nodded. “Yeah, there’s a social worker, but she only spends a day and half on this part of the reservation. The rest of the time she has other territory to cover. And everybody is afraid of Gabriel. He’s a snake when he drinks, and he’s drunk most of the time, so Levi gets the short end of the stick. Gabriel beat up the social worker we had a while back, and the new social worker kind of hides out from him. One of the teachers has a restraining order against him. No one wants to deal with him.”

“Well, it’s a shame,” Grace said. “Too bad there isn’t a better solution out there for that child.”

The next week or two passed without Grace thinking more about Levi. That was, until he showed up at her door! He rang the doorbell, and when Grace saw him, she hurried to answer the door.

“What can I do for you, young man?” she asked.

He waved a flyer at her. “Want to buy some cookies, lady?” he asked. Grace could see a small group of boys clustered together across the street, sniggering. Her guess was that they had put him up to this, hoping to get him into trouble. Or at least to gain an opportunity to make fun of him later. Or to make her uncomfortable, for whatever reason.

“I’d love to buy some cookies,” Grace said. “Come on in!” Levi walked in without a backward glance at his “pals.” When Grace shut the door behind him, a stench assaulted her nostrils. Levi had probably been sleeping in his clothes, and wearing them day after day, without bathing. He smelled so bad she wondered how and why the school tolerated it. She asked him if he would like some milk and cookies, which he agreed to immediately.

While she arranged for the milk and cookies, Grace asked Levi for his name, which he provided, and she told him her name. He ate several cookies very rapidly, and then suddenly looked at Grace with a look of fear. “Am I eating too much? Sometimes I do that. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Grace reassured him. “As my grandma used to say, ‘I like to see someone enjoy his food.’”

“You have a grandma?” Levi was incredulous. “You’re really old to have a grandma.”

Grace smiled at him. “I had a grandma when I was younger. Two grandmas, in fact. But both of them died a long time ago.”

“I never had a grandma.” Levi responded. “Not even one. How did you get two?”

“Well, one of my grandmothers was my mom’s mom, and the other was my dad’s mom. I got to know both of them, but I got to spend more time with my mom’s mom, because I was her only granddaughter. My dad’s mom had lots of granddaughters, and grandsons, too.”

Levi thought this over. “I don’t think it’s fair,” he commented, “that some kids get two
grandmas, and some don’t get any. And I only had one grandpa, and he died.” There was real pain in the serious brown eyes. His lonely existence was clear in that one quick expression on his face.

Grace had known enough loneliness in her life to understand the pain Levi felt. On impulse (her usual decision-making strategy) she said to Levi, “Well, how about I can be your grandma when you visit here? You can call me ‘Grandma G,’ how’s that?”

Levi thought it over. He asked, “How often do I get to visit? What do I have to do to get to call you ‘Grandma G’?”

“Well....” Grace was thinking it over now, too. “When you are here, you have to do what I tell you to do. Like if I tell you not to touch something, you don’t touch it. Or if I tell you to stop doing something, you stop. Does that sound okay?”

“I think so,” Levi responded. “What are we going to do now? I’m not hungry anymore. Do I
have to go home now?”

“I don’t know for sure,” Grace replied. “Is someone waiting for you at home? Is your dad there?”

“Probably not,” Levi replied. “He wasn’t there last night, so I bet he’s not home tonight, either.”

“What do you do if your dad isn’t home?” Grace asked. “How do you get into the house? What do you do about dinner?”

“You mean supper? Lotsa times I don’t get any supper. That’s why I always hope they give us an after-school snack. I always stay for that if they have it, or if I forget, I go back and check, coz I never know if my daddy will be home or if there is any food in the house.”

Grace was shocked. “What about the weekend?” she asked. “Do you have to spend all weekend with no food?”

“Sometimes,” Levi admitted. “But a lot of the time, my daddy comes home for the weekend, and he might bring food with him. And when his friends come to party with him, they bring food, so I get some to eat. But they all get to eat first, so all I get are the leftovers. If my daddy’s friend Freddy comes to visit, he makes sure to bring extra food just for me, and tells me how to hide it from my daddy, so I have food for the weekend.”

Grace decided that now was not the time to ask about the food-hiding plan. But she still wanted to know how Levi got into the house if no one was home. So that was the question she asked him.

“Sometimes there is a key in a flower pot, and I can unlock the door with that. But if the key is not there, I check to see if the window in my room is open a little. I can stand up on a box under my bedroom window, and get in that way. I try to remember to leave my bedroom window open a little way. Once I forgot, and I fell asleep on the back porch and slept until my daddy came home in the middle of the night. I was so cold!”

Grace had no words that she could say (in front of a small child, at least) regarding Levi’s having to be his own after-school program supervisor. Instead, she said, “If you think your daddy will not be home tonight, then I think you should spend the night here. How do you feel about that?”

“I think I’d like to stay,” Levi responded. “But where will I sleep?” Grace told him that she had a spare bedroom that he could sleep in, and that seemed to satisfy him. (Although, as we shall see a little later, Levi wasn’t as accepting of this plan as he seemed.)

Then Grace told him, “I think now would be a good time to get you into a bathtub so you can get clean and wash your hair. I am guessing you haven’t had a bath for a while, huh?”
“No,” and now Levi was a little sheepish. “No, I don’t think my dad knows how to give me a bath, and I am afraid of getting the water too hot, and it’s hard for me to get into and out of the tub – it’s slippery!”

“I am sure we can come up with a way to solve those problems here. You can help me choose the temperature of the water, and I can just put a towel down on the bottom of the tub so it won’t be too slippery. And you can decide – bubbles or no bubbles?”

“What do you mean about ‘bubbles’? I don’t know what you are talking about.” Levi clearly didn’t have a history of enjoying bubble baths. When Grace explained what a bubble bath was, he immediately agreed to the experience. But he had reservations about how it would happen.

“Putting a towel in the tub will get it all wet,” Levi protested, with a troubled frown. “I don’t
want to mess up all your towels. I get in trouble at home if I mess stuff up.”

Grace smiled. “The towels get wet when they go in the washing machine. I don’t think it will matter if they get wet before they go into the washer! Besides, Aretha and Smokey lay on towels all the time, and they shed, so I have to wash towels a lot.”

These were new names for Levi. “Who are they?” he asked. “I never heard those names before.”

“They’re my cats,” Grace replied. “Would you like to see them?”

“I don’t know....” Levi was timid about getting acquainted with two more new “people” in this household. “I am kinda scared of animals. ‘Specially dogs. Dogs can be really big and loud and I get scared of them. Are your cats big and loud?”

`“They can be loud,” Grace admitted. “Especially in the middle of the night, they can wake me up when they want something. They walk on me and meow and I have to get up to see what they want. Smokey likes to walk on top of the tables and knock stuff down. That can make a real noise and then I wake up for sure!”

Grace took Levi on a brief tour of the house. They discovered Aretha and Smokey asleep on Grace’s bed. The cats woke up when they heard voices. Smokey stayed stretched out on the bed, but Aretha strolled over to sniff at Levi. Her whiskers tickled his hand, and he giggled.

“Why did she smell me?” he asked.

Grace replied, “Dogs and cats get to know you, and each other, by smelling you. Aretha thinks she has ‘met’ you because she sniffed you. I don’t know what she thinks she knows about you, but it’s her way of saying ‘hello’. If you want to say ‘hi’ back to her, try petting her.”

Levi was uncertain, but drew his hand down Aretha’s back a couple of times. She began to purr, and head-butted him for more petting. Once Grace had explained the meaning of the head-butts, Levi obliged with more strokes. Then, Grace helped Levi set up a bubble bath. She tossed in several empty plastic containers as temporary tub toys, and then went out into the hallway to call Laura Stinson, the tribal social worker. She left a message when Laura’s voicemail picked up, and then spoke directly with Laura a few minutes later, when she called back. Grace was down the hall from the bathroom, where she could keep an eye on Levi, but (hopefully) not be heard.

“Hi Grace, what’s up?” Laura asked. “I don’t usually hear from you.”

“No, that’s true,” Grace responded. “But I am about to do something that will probably
complicate your life, so I wanted to give you a heads-up. I have just kind of ‘kidnaped’ a little boy named Levi Mireles, and I wanted to let you know about it. He showed up at my door selling cookies for school, so I brought him in for my own version of milk and cookies. The kid is grubby, he looks like he hasn’t eaten very well recently, and he has told me some stories about his dear ol’ dad that would curl your hair. No one seems to be looking after him, so I am taking him in, at least in the short run, so I can be sure someone has his best interest at heart. I know I am probably not the preferred foster parent for a Wetumpka child. Before I get too attached to him, I need to ask: Should he be in a Wetumpka foster care home; is there a placement available?”

“Of course, he should be in a local Wetumpka foster care home. But there’s not a spot for miles around here, unfortunately, with Wetumpka or White or Hispanic foster parents.” Laura answered. “The demand for foster care placements is far greater than what’s available. Plus, Levi is a special case. He is sort of in limbo. His father still has formal custody of him, so we can’t officially take Levi away from him, even if we wanted to. I mean, I guess it could be done, but Gabriel is not a guy that anyone wants to take on. No one has filed a formal request to terminate Gabriel’s custody of Levi, and of course Gabriel is an unpredictable SOB who scares the daylights out of me, and out of most of the rest of the town. I hate to admit it, but I am afraid of him to the point where I just am not willing to take the risk of interfering in the situation. I mean, if someone asked me to, I would, but since no one has asked...”

Grace quickly replied, “Well, I am no doubt making a mistake in doing this, but I am not going to let this little kid get lost in the shuffle. His dad sure sounds like an SOB, and I think Levi deserves better. And ‘something better than his old man’ isn’t that high a hurdle to meet. Is there any way for me to apply to be an emergency foster parent? Or to be able to get immediate training? Any way for me not to be a total lawbreaker?” Grace, in her usual impatient fashion, wanted to get the show on the road now.

Laura paused for a few seconds, then replied, “I think I can buy you a couple weeks, at least. We have an emergency foster care panel that I can call in cases like this. Usually the people they are considering for emergency placements are family members of the child, or children, but most of the members of the panel probably know a little about you, and know about Levi, so I think it shouldn’t be a problem. I don’t know how much resistance there will be to creating a placement with a White foster parent, though. A couple of people on the panel remember the bad old days when the authorities wanted to always place kids in White homes only, in order to assimilate them."