Mark was alone when I got to his room. It was late afternoon and I guessed that his family would come back after they’d eaten dinner. Poor Mark was probably confined to hospital food. Working here had shown me how awful that could be. It’s not that the food was bad. It was just bland and very limited so as not to upset the patient’s stomachs. They also had to cater to all sorts of allergies and foods that interfered with medications. Still in R2, I peeked in on him and saw that he was reading from a geology textbook. It looked brand new and I suspect that his parents had to buy him all his textbooks again.
I slipped out of the room, shifted back to reality in a quiet corner and made my way back. I knocked quietly and opened the door when I heard his, “Come in”.
Mark was engrossed in his book and didn’t look up as I entered. I was impressed. I’d certainly never found my textbooks so entertaining. A few seconds went by before Mark glanced up and then he did a double take. He’d obviously been expecting someone from his family and not a guest. Mark smiled and put his book away.
“Abby! It’s good to see you. I’m glad you’re here.”
“Hey Mark.” That’s me. Suave and sophisticated. “I just came by to see how you’re doing.”
“I’m doing great. My breathing is almost back to normal and they’re releasing me tomorrow morning. I have to take it easy for a few weeks, but otherwise I’m all good. How about you? Any lingering effects?”
“Nope. I was exhausted that day and the next, but sleep and rest put me back to normal. I see that you’re already getting back to your studies.”
“Yeah. Thanks to you, I’ve only missed one week of school, instead of my entire life. Now that they’re friends, my father called Harry to get a list of my classes and books and dad went to the bookstore to pick up a new set for me. I’m not sure what’s been assigned, so I’m just reading the first few chapters in each of the books.” Damn. Despite almost dying in a fire, it sounded to me like Mark would be starting his classes ahead of most of his classmates. I’d have milked the fire excuse for at least the first few weeks. Probably longer.
“Well, you seemed pretty interested in what you were reading when I came in. What are you studying?”
“Geology. I’m at the Mining school. Grampa Jake started mining fifty years ago and he’s built up his one-man outfit into a fairly large mining company with mines all over the world. When he saw that I was interested in mining, he insisted that I go to school at Galt. He said that there was no better place to learn about mining, besides actually being a miner. He was right. This semester I’m taking a geology course, mining management, resource management, environmental remediation, and some basic required courses.”
“You sound like you love what you’re learning.”
“I do. Almost everything that we use in our daily lives starts off being extracted from the Earth. Our entire civilization depends on mining. Someday I plan on running Grampa Jake’s company and I want to make sure that I do it well.” He paused there and looked at me intently, “What about you, Abby? I know that you’re a Junior, but have you found your purpose yet? Do you know what you want to study in college?”
Wow. Mark was certainly intense. Driven was probably a better word. Usually people with goals upset me. They’ve found their purpose in life and they always made me feel like a slacker by comparison. The problem wasn’t with them, but rather with my own feelings. Why didn’t I know what I wanted to do with my life? Why couldn’t I find something that drove me forward? Kung Fu and Blacksmithing were great, but if I was being honest with myself, neither of those would fulfill me. They were a part of my life, but if I based my life on either, then I would be living someone else’s life; either dad’s or Uncle Magnum’s.
Mark’s question got to the heart of me pretty quickly. Had he asked me those questions a four months ago, I would have stammered something out about Kung Fu or Blacksmithing, just to avoid the topic. Today though, his question didn’t bother me, because I had an answer.
“I have found my purpose, but I won’t be going to college to study for it.” This was my first time saying that to anyone. “Until recently, I didn’t know how to go about my purpose or if I could even do it. Lately, I think that I may have found a way to do it.”
“That was a great build up and you’ve got me really curious. What is it?”
“I’m going to start a foundation or a charity that helps victims of human trafficking and their families.” I said it lightly, without the fanfare that I felt at saying it out loud for the first time. Shouldn’t there be trumpets sounding off in the background or something?
“Ok. I wasn’t expecting that. I was thinking firefighter or paramedic or bodyguard, but that’s good too.”
“Seriously?! I run into one burning building and that defines me? There’s a lot more to me than just fire-resistance.”
“I don’t know that you should be discounting fire resistance. It’s a pretty specialized skill and I can attest to how vital it can be.”
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
“All kidding aside, are you serious about not going to college?”, Mark asked.
“Yes, I am. You’re actually the first person I’ve told. It’s something that I’ve been thinking about for awhile now. Dad and Harry are going to be disappointed. Harry’s keeps bringing up college every time he comes over. I think he’s hoping I’ll enroll at Galt. If I were to go to college, Galt would be my first choice, but I just don’t see the point.”
“Abby, running a charity requires just as much business knowledge as running any other type of business; maybe more. Most businesses sell you a product or service. A charity has to keep asking its donors for money every year and never gives the donor anything tangible in return. It’s not easy. College can help you develop strategies for that, along with a ton of other useful information.” I liked that he wasn’t being condescending. He was trying to be helpful and he thought that college would provide the tools that I needed to succeed.
To avoid a fight, I pretended to be open minded and said, “I’ll keep that in mind”.
“If I wasn’t convinced of your outstanding character, I’d swear that you just politely told me to shut up.” I guess I wasn’t good at pretending and hiding my true feelings. Note to self, don’t play poker with anyone, ever.
“A lady would never say something like that!”, I said as I mocked being scandalized by the very thought.
“Uh huh. Yeah. I suppose that a lady wouldn’t.”
“Are you implying that I’m not a lady?”, shocked outrage bubbling up in my tone and I quickly ruined it by laughing.
“A lady didn’t save me. A superhero did.” He laughed at that to make it seem like he was kidding, but I could see that he meant it. Then he asked me an unexpected question. “Did you watch the video of the fire?”
“Nope. I figured I was there. Not much to see that I didn’t already know.”
“You might want to watch it and read the comments.”
“You should never read the comments. Lots of crazies out there. Even worse, you get the keyboard warriors, all safe and snug in their parents’ basement, attacking people while they dribble cheese-whiz over their onesie pjs.”
“That’s quite the picture you’ve put in my brain. Thanks! Yes, you’re right about the comments, but I was referring to a debate being waged in the comments. A few people, claiming to be firefighters, are saying that there’s no way you could have survived that fire, much less been able to save me. They say that the fire was too widespread and that you should have been burned alive. The heat alone would have baked you. Other firefighters are saying it’s possible, if the back of the house wasn’t as bad as the front. Everyone agrees on one thing though. It’s a miracle that you made it out of there with me.” He had a serious look on his face by the end of his explanation.
Oh crap. I didn’t like where this was going. I needed to bring back the conversation to cheery banter. “Well, it all ended up ok. Anyways, where are you going to be staying, now that your house is gone?”.
“You’re changing the subject. I just wanted to let you know that my saying thank you is not enough to make up for what you did. I owe you Abby. You risked your life to save me. If you ever need help with anything, I’m here for you.” He looked at me until I nodded uncomfortably and he went on, “It was too late to get into a dorm. They’re all full. So, dad found me an apartment not to far away from school. It’s only a mile away. Mom and dad have been rushing all over to get it furnished and I’ll need to go clothes shopping tomorrow. I hear that you’re coming to dinner tomorrow night.”
“Yup. I like your family and I'm very curious to see what you look like standing up. You’re always lying down or draped over people when I see you. You might be one of those short men that tries to hide it by always sitting or lying down when people are around.”
“I’m 6’1 and I don’t have height issues.”
“Hmmm…maybe you’re one of those guys that swoons when girls are around. You get nervous and tongue tied and finally pass out from embarrassment.”
We continued our banter for a few more minutes, chatting comfortably about our plans for the week and before I left, we exchanged numbers. Lucky for him, his phone had been in his pocket when I carried him out of his house. On the way out of the hospital, I realized that I had forgotten to ask where we were going for dinner. I hoped it was to an Italian restaurant. I was in the mood for some ravioli.
Later on that night, I thought about my revelation to Mark about my plans and about his comment about me being a superhero for saving him. With my abilities, I could do more than just help the trafficking victims regain their lives after they get free. I could find the traffickers and shut them down. I could even find the ones that took mom. I didn’t believe that mom was alive anymore, but I could definitely make sure that those who were responsible for her death could be stopped for good.
With these thoughts, my mental picture of the foundation started to change. The foundation would need to two parts to it. One out in the open and one hidden. Just like Asimov’s books! The one in the open would be just what I had told Mark it would be. The foundation would offer financial and social assistance to people who’s lives had been ripped apart by traffickers and any help that they or their families needed to rebuild their lives. I wanted the foundation to help the victims find new housing if they needed it or help them retrain to get back to work. If they needed legal assistance because they were brought to this country illegally, I wanted to help them get it. If they were hooked on drugs and needed time in rehab, the foundation would help with that. These people, through no fault of their own, had been uprooted and sold into economic, physical or sexual slavery and they deserved a second chance at life, a chance to rebuild. This part of the foundation, this open part, would be dedicated to the memory of my mother, Hannah, and it would be named after her.
The hidden part of the foundation would be all about vengeance. I knew that there was no way to eradicate slavery, as it made too much money for the slavers and I had no doubt that the money was used to buy the protection of very influential people or it went directly into the pockets of those very influential people. However, just because I couldn’t stop it entirely, didn’t mean that I couldn’t make a difference. I would start by hunting down those who’d kidnapped my mom and I’d continue to go after anyone else in that business.
To get these foundations going I was going to need a lot of money and I had no idea how I would get it. That didn’t matter for right now though. I had time to figure it out. These were long term plans. I was still in high school and I was still learning to use my new abilities. Besides, even without a foundation behind me, I had some ideas about how I could start going after my mother’s kidnappers. That part didn’t have to wait. It just needed careful planning. Short-term planning.