Unfaithful

 

            Vanessa stood at the edge of the overpass, watching the unending line of traffic flow beneath her as the final hours of heavy traffic for the day reached its peak flow. She knew that her wait time would be several hours before she had the opportunity for truck and trailer to pass beneath her at an accelerated speed. Repeatedly checking her watch, she began to feel frustrated and began to pace, wondering about the point of it all, and if there was any purpose to continuing her insipid existence.

               Like a cyclone, her mind transitioned from one thought to the next to the next and ended up dwelling upon those she knew, former friends, co-workers, and those whom she said she loved and who thought they were loved by her. After pacing for at least an hour, she noticed that the flow of traffic had begun to thin out, allowing for faster travel time.

               “Okay, now is the time,” she said to herself. Stopping in her tracks, she bent at the waist, rested her hands above her knees, took several deep breaths and began to wonder how she got to this place with this mindset. The sun had slowly crept below the distant mountains and no longer gave good visibility for her as she stood on the overpass.

               “Darkness, this is a good thing,” she muttered. “I wish there was a better way to handle this rather than involving the driver of whatever vehicle happens to be passing by.” Standing back up to full height, she slowly approached the center of the overpass, leaned over the handrail and as if time decided to shift into slow motion, she watched the dark sky overhead with its few stars and a sliver of moon.

               Immediately regretting her decision to take the leap, she knew that there was no turning back at this point. The violent connection of her back and the blacktop below carried a horrific crunching sound to her ears, followed by the sound of an approaching truck and trailer. Though she could see nothing but dark sky overhead, she felt a wave of remorse cross over her as a series of tires destroyed her now broken body.

               She experienced only two sources of sensory input. The sound of her body breaking and the sight of the dark sky overhead, immediately followed by the red glow of tail lights as everything then faded to black. Though she lacked all other sensory input, her memories continued, thoughts of good and happy times passed through her mind until everything was gone.

               She thought she could feel anger, frustration, and disappointment fill every corner of her being to then rise above the tragic traffic scene, vaguely lit by tail lights and a sliver of moon. All movement stopped, all sound ceased to exist, and she was immediately joined by two very handsome young men who helped her rise to her feet, ascend into the sky, and look down upon her broken body on the blacktop.

               “Oh wow,” she thought. “I now realize that I have done a very bad thing. There is no going back and I have no idea what to expect from these two beautiful young men. I wonder where I’m going now.” As she and they continued their path upward, she could feel and see a beautiful white light embrace her, giving a feeling of peace, love, and joy but at the same time a feeling of disappointment.

               When they finally stopped moving, she noticed that there were hundreds of others, just like her approaching in the same way, and embraced by the same beautiful light. She and her two guides watched and waited for what seemed an undefinable long time. As they waited, she watched the others who had arrived either continue their ascent or begin a descent.

               “From everything I’ve been taught, I know what is happening here,” she thought. “Honestly, I really don’t know what direction I’ll be traveling or for how long I’ll be floating here.” As she waited, one of her guides slipped a mask over her face and she could feel her two guides take her by her hands and lead her somewhere.

               The three of them settled onto what felt like soft earth, or possibly sand. In an instant, the mask was removed from her face to reveal the face of a middle-aged man looking very sad. “Hello Vanessa,” he said. “You should not be here now. There was still so much for you to do. You abandoned your post, your responsibilities, and those who loved you. You gave up, you gave into your passions, and chose the easy path, which will not end well for you.”

               The sound of his words rang in her ears and at the same time she could feel what should have been her heart becoming tight and dry and disappointed in her failure to do the very best she could and her missed opportunities. She received a warm hug from her new visitor and from her two guides, to then realize that she stood alone, feeling sad and empty. She noticed many others a good distance away from her, moving toward a small hill glowing with light and she began to put in effort to join them in their movement.

               She began counting with each step she took to suddenly stop as if she ran into an invisible wall that prevented any further movement. The many others around her continued moving and she realized that there were others behind her that stopped moving before she stopped. “Ugh, now what,” she thought. Dropping to her knees, she continued to look upon the glowing hill and the inviting feeling of love it emanated. “I guess that’s it,” she thought. “I really want to continue moving up but now I’m stuck. What am I supposed to do? I guess I have my memories, both good and bad. I should spend some time thinking about what things I didn’t finish, people I didn’t reconcile with, and goals I never reached.”

               Rolling her head, stretching her arms, stretching her legs, she stood up and felt like she had a tiny opportunity take a few more steps forward. Before she could move any further, two large powerful arms embraced her from behind, followed by a warm and friendly growl. She turned to face the massive form and friendly face of a friend she had lost so many years before, overjoyed at the prospect of having someone she formerly loved now with her.

               The two of them sat on the lush grass, and began reminiscing about the fun they had together so many years before. As they spoke, they watched hundreds and thousands of others ascend from below as she had so many hours before. Many of them continued forward to ascend the glowing hill and many others froze in place, while others reached the land and were suddenly thrust back from whence they had come.

               Vanessa flopped back onto the grass, disappointed in herself, frustrated that she had taken the easy path instead of struggling to do the best with what she had. “I was unfaithful,” she grumbled to herself. “I guess that is they way things go sometimes. Decisions are made and there is no going back. Now I’m here and there is no way to undo what I’ve done.”

               Images of a star filled sky, of glowing red tail lights, and memories of the sound of her body being destroyed returned to her mind.

               “Let it go, Vanessa,” her friend said. “You cannot go back but at least we’re together now with good memories, good thoughts, and disappointment at what we didn’t do in the past. We need to watch for others that we’ve known from before and see what there is for us to do now.”

               “I really hope we’re not stuck in this empty place,” Vanessa said. “I hate the idea of having nothing to do. There must be something productive we can do to spend our time and be of value to ourselves to one another or to others.”

               The words barely left her mouth when they noticed that others like them rise to their feet and begin moving to one side of the grassy field. “Hey, look at that,” she said. “Let’s follow them and maybe we’ll find something good to do.” Grabbing her friend by the hand, they moved sideways to follow the crowd, eventually seeing others from their former life, to hug, to smile, to talk, and to reconnect.

               As they lingered about, they were approached by several other handsome young men, who looked a great deal like her former guides.

               “We are so glad that you two found one another,” one of them said. “We have a responsibility for you to take while you are here and as others arrive. When new visitors arrive, we need you to approach them, welcome them, encourage them, and urge them to move toward the glowing hill as far as possible. That is the ultimate goal for everyone. The closer you and they can approach the glowing hill, the greater love you will experience, and the greater joy you will find. It is your job to communicate hope and love.”

Restless

            John found himself standing in the sand, staring across the ocean and wondering about the horizon where the sky met the water. His life was one of daily struggle, daily battle, a consistent war within himself, fighting against the passions, and hoping for finding a resolution to this never-ending path which seemed to offer only frustration. Feeling desperate and uncertain of how to proceed forward, he dropped to his knees and resorted to prayer as a means to gain control over the corruption that seemed to fill every corner of his being.

               Fifteen minutes into prayer, he rose to his feet, brushed the sand from his knees, and returned to the parking lot to begin his drive home. “Phew, at least I have confession tomorrow night,” he breathed out to himself. “There is nothing better than a fresh start and I know that the battle will begin again as soon as I leave from the Divine Liturgy on Sunday morning.”

               Weaving through countless streets, past strip malls, movie theaters, and stores selling everything imaginable, he shuddered at the thought of being immersed in the inanity of western corruption. “Maybe I need to relocate somewhere else, where the Christian life is the standard for the culture,” he thought. “Ugh, everyone sins, everyone fails, and no one is without the internal battle against the passions. I really need to do something different.”

               “Here I am, stuck in Florida, surrounded by shamelessness, immodesty, vanity, and corruption,” he once again complained to himself. “Right now is probably a good time to find somewhere smaller and cooler to live, away from the beach life and the heat.” Pulling into his parking garage, he took the elevator to the third floor to enter his apartment, to then drop himself on his couch in silence. “Okay, let’s spend some time finding a good church that is in a cooler place with serious parishioners with a desire to follow holiness.”

               Ninety minutes later, John decided on relocating across the country and much further north. “I guess this is a good start,” he thought. “I think I’ll make some phone calls and learn about some of these other promising parishes.” After digging through his desk, he found a notebook and a pencil to document his conversations and create a definite and specific plan.

               Three days passed and he turned in his notice to quit at his place of employment. The next two weeks were spent finding new employment on the opposite side of the country, finding a new apartment in the new city into which he would be moving, and making close connections with the priest at the new church, and several other parishioners. Knowing that a move of such a great distance would only be reasonable if he sold most of his possessions, which would leave him with a substantial amount of cash to make the journey. Two days before his planned departure, he watched the last of his furniture leave his apartment with a feeling of sadness, knowing that he would never again return to this city or likely ever see his friends in this place.

               Two suitcases full of clothes, a single backpack which he carried onto the airplane and a path westward with three stops between home and his new destination. Never one to be silent for too long, he maintained a steady stream of conversation with the person sitting next to him on each airplane ride. Finally arriving at his new city, he hired an Uber, found his new apartment which was tragically empty and devoid of all furniture. He turned on the heat, unloaded his clothing into his closet and placed a phone call to the internet company.

               Feeling overly peckish after three airplane rides with nothing resembling a meal since his breakfast that morning, he locked his apartment behind him, walked to a local strip mall and was thrilled to find a sushi restaurant. He sat alone in silence wishing he had someone with whom to speak and share his thoughts, his struggles, and his passion to live a life of holiness.

               After a satisfying meal, he returned to his new apartment, counted the money in his pocket and knew that he would eventually need to purchase a car, some furniture, and a bed in order to function like a normal human being. “Four days, okay four days until the Saturday night service,” he grumbled. “I will need to do my best to struggle through the rest of this time.”

               The remainder of that evening and the next morning consisted of searching for employment, casual conversations with his neighbors, and roaming the city to understand his surroundings and how to make the best use of his time. Eventually landing a job in construction, he made a trip to the grocery store to put something in his refrigerator and shelves to avoid being hungry and uncomfortable for the next several days. Saturday evening eventually arrived after three days of work and he found his new parish which consisted of many friendly and kind people who embraced him as one of their own.

               After eighteen months of regular attendance, he began putting in the effort to learn the parish language to eventually notice that the idea of traveling to Russia became a passion that would not leave heart and mind. Two years of hard work in learning the Russian language, he knew that being surrounded by English speakers was not the best path forward to becoming connected with his fellow parishioners. After several conversations with his priest, he made the decision to quit his job, travel to Russia and settle there for a year, thoroughly immersing himself in the Russian language and culture. He eventually moved all of his possessions into a storage unit, bought a plane ticket and lived in the foreign country to find himself comfortably picking up the language and mindset of this Christian culture.

               In awe of his new surroundings, the foundation of a Christian culture seeped into his very being, making him feel as if life was now different, built on Christian thinking and morals, rather than shamelessness, immodesty, and vanity. His one year of relocation came to an end, prompting him to return to his new city and new parish to reconnect and feel very out of place in a world that was not founded on faithful Christianity. He returned, re-established himself in a new apartment with a new job and found himself disappointed and lonely after leaving behind a culture that had become his new reality.

               After three months in his former city, he could feel his heart and mind being drawn away toward foolishness and vanity, pulling him to return once again to Russia and settle himself in the world he so desperately wanted to embrace and live. He once again, moved his possessions into a storage unit, bought another plane ticket, and made the decision to move to Russia on a permanent basis. “I know that I’ll need to do a great deal of paperwork to make this my permanent reality,” he thought.

               After landing in a nearby country, he took a short train ride across the border and back to his former town of Nizhny Novgorod. With nothing more to his name than his two suitcases of clothing, his backpack, and a pocket full of cash, he returned to his previous apartment complex to find the manager and requested another room.

               “Hello Pavel,” he said as the man opened the door. “I have returned for what I believe will be on a permanent basis,” in his now relatively smooth Russian tongue. He and Pavel sat together at the kitchen table, filled out the required paperwork, to then ascend the stairs to his fully furnished apartment.

               “Phew, I feel so much better,” he said to himself. “Time to get a good night of sleep, so tomorrow I can find the US embassy and complete the paperwork to make this stay permanent.” Waking up at the sound of his alarm, he found himself ravenously hungry, he washed, he dressed, and descended the stairs to find a local market for a bit of breakfast.

               “Okay then, time for a two-mile walk,” he grumbled. The weather had turned to a pleasant spring day and he walked until he found the embassy, introduced himself, showed his passport and requested the paperwork to make his stay in Russia permanent. He completed the forms, received a temporary document permitting his stay for longer than one year. “Phew, time to look for work,” he said to himself as he left the building.

               His two mile walk home only lasted for six blocks, when he saw a sign in a local restaurant requesting a dishwasher. He pushed his way into the restaurant, inquired of the job and was offered the position. “Thank you for coming in, John” the restaurant owner said. “Please be ready to start tomorrow at six in the morning.”

               “Yes, sir, very good,” John answered.

               “I want you to understand that we are only open on Mondays through Fridays, so that you can attend Vespers, Matins, and Divine Liturgy. These are a very important part of our culture and life,” he said.

               “Excellent,” he answered. “I will see you tomorrow morning at six and on each day Monday through Friday. I am very happy to hear that the services of the Orthodox church are important to you. I completely agree as they are foundational to my life as well.”

               The two men shook hands, bade one another farewell and John began his walk home, feeling encouraged and content with how the day had passed. He covered less than one block when the owner caught his attention, handing him a warm meal in a small cardboard box.

“Thank you for coming in, John,” he said. “We are very pleased that you have embraced the religious life of our people. I wanted to give this meal so you have something warm in your belly when you arrive at home. God bless.”

Walking Away From It

 

            Like a lightning flash when there was no lightning, at that moment he knew he had come across something special, something different, and something of value. The last five years of his life had been one of self-control, sacrifice, and concerted effort when those around him were only focused on childish games, immaturity, and empty distraction. It was at that moment he knew he needed to act, to make a decision, and to focus on something of value.

               Like a snowball rolling down a hill, the plan, the goal, the overall direction continued to grow, to improve, and to make every decision important and worthy of attention and focus. Time slowly crept by with more decisions to be made, former choices led to making new choices and a continually growing plan for improvement and the need for responsibility and maturity to keep the plan growing and improving.

               Weeks turned into months, months turned into years, and years turned into decades to eventually reveal that what he thought was a good plan, a good set of goals, and a hope for a brighter future only turned out to be a grand deception of which he was blissfully unaware.  As reality began to slowly unravel, he eventually learned to look back, re-interpret history, and finally come to an understanding of what he thought he had been rightly interpreting for so many years.

               Quality of life slowly improved, slowly expanded to bring in more joy, more happiness, and greater understanding. After a series of decisions that moved them in the right direction, he watched as all of their hard work crumbled to reveal a crippling and painful new world in which others began to chip away at everything he had worked so hard to create. Conversations were had, communication dissolved into resentment and disappointment, leaving everything in tatters and frustration.

               As time continued to slither past, he had a vision of biting into an apple to find half of a worm, knowing that the other half had been consumed in the last bite. Each day turned into one worse than the previous, bringing disappointment, frustration, and anger, leaving so much good that had been created into a steaming pile of despair.

               Very much like one sitting on the front porch as the sunshine of the day slowly transitioned into dusk and then into the full darkness of evening, he could feel everything falling apart, resentment building, and a complete loss of ideas on how to move forward. The model he had dreamt of, planned for, and began to build was slowly taken from him, leaving so much success and so much progress turning into benefit for someone else, who technically should have had no input or concern with his years of hard work and effort.

               One vision after another came into his mind as the months crept by. “I feel like I’ve baked a pie to only have it stolen from me,” he thought. “It seems like all that should have remained mine has been taken away by bad decisions made by others.” It was only two years later that the ache and burning in his stomach and soul disappeared that he began to realize that a new reality meant a new beginning with less stress, less frustration, and less disappointment.

               He began to move forward on a different path, with new friends, good input and wise guidance, to finally come to an understanding that sometimes things need to burn down and be replaced by something else. A new idea rose in his mind. “I feel like I’ve transitioned from eating bologna to eating prime rib,” he said to himself. Looking back over the last decade of his life, he realized that what was a few good decisions, and a bit of good advice was actually not what he had hoped for.

               Like moving from one mountain top to another, the view only continued to improve to expose more beauty, more truth, and a greater life. He found himself spending more and more time re-examining, exploring, and critiquing previous decisions and previous opportunities. As time continued to pass, he knew that he was on a new path to bigger and better things, knowing that wishing for an opportunity to re-do former decisions not an option.

               “Don’t wish for a different past,” he thought, “instead learn from previous mistakes, seek out good advice from those who are actually wise, and move forward to a life of holiness, purity, and love for others.” Failing to see the current reality of the present will only result in not being thankful for the current blessings, the few good thoughts, words, and actions of the past, and will allow for creating a better future.

               He eventually began to document all of his former decisions, the content upon which those decisions were made, and he learned to see, unsee, and re-see the details of life, the facts of reality, and the opportunities that lay before him. New friends, new connections, and restored relationships moved him in the right direction toward love for God, love for neighbor, and the pursuit of holiness.  He continued to explore his previous decisions, what exactly moved him to make those decisions, and he learned to change his approach, change his response to those around him, and learn to imitate those from the past who were truly good and holy.

               From his early childhood, the bar had been set very low, and as time passed, he continually moved the bar higher and higher, slowly realizing that what seemed to be love and concern from others was mostly deception and pretend. “What some call friendship is an odd thing,” he said to himself. “Our goal in life ought not be simply using others to make ourselves feel better, to create an image of ourselves in our own minds of being good people, but rather, our goal should be to positively influence others and help them move toward goodness and truth.”

               “Embrace the challenge, embrace the opportunities that come my way,” he thought, “and make the most of every situation to make life better for others, for myself, and for those around me.” Like finding one rotten apple in the middle of a barrel of apples, he could see the decay that followed from not removing that one rotten apple. “Hmm, one can turn on a flashlight and bring clarity to those around him but one cannot turn on a torch that pours out darkness. Life, energy, words, and actions should bring help and love to others.”

               The ideas and visions continued as he began to move in different circles, with different friends, and with different influences upon him. He began to find joy in his interaction with people who were genuine, who were honest, and who truly cared for him, offering him aid whenever he needed it. Like staring at the sun and comparing that experience with previous situations that involved seeing only reflections and half-truths, he could feel himself slowly transitioning toward truth, light, love, and hope.

               A new reality began to form around him, new dreams began to take shape, and new plans were created that would lead to goodness, truth, and beauty. Like an athlete who moved from minor league to major league, he could feel the challenge before him pushing him to move forward and improve. Like a musician who lived and experienced only pop music, to then discover classical music that forced a greater recognition of beauty and talent, he continued to move the bar higher and higher, not willing to be content with mediocrity.

               Becoming part of community that was not content with drivel, with immaturity, or with worldliness founded on western morals, he found himself challenging himself to continue growing and improving life for himself and for those he loved. The transition from darkness to dusk to daylight was a glorious metaphor for all that had been taking place. Interacting with shadows, with plastic smiles, and with pretend kindness twisted his stomach in knots when he realized that there were a small number of genuinely good and kind people and it was these with whom he needed to interact.

               He was torn between being thankful for finding a good community and losing so much in previous years. “Sometimes things need to be lost or destroyed in order to be replaced by beauty and truth,” he thought. “Without one, a man cannot see the necessary change and improvement that stands in front of him. Sacrifice, struggle, disappointment, and loss will move one in the right direction to uncover that which is better.”

Exterior Versus Interior

 

The neighborhood street was empty of all vehicle activity except for a little girl who walked alone on her way to school. She cradled her arm and whimpered softly, deeply concerned that her arm was broken after receiving a terrible kick from her father that morning. Two blocks south of her apartment building was a garage for motorcycle repair in which sat over twenty large, tattooed leather clad gang members, who upon seeing the little girl began to grumble among themselves about the girl’s sorry condition.

“Man, there is something seriously wrong with that little girl and whatever family life she is forced to endure,” one of them said. “We need to watch which building she lives in and intervene to protect her. If I can get my hands on the coward that would injure a little girl, that interaction will not be a pleasant experience.”

“I completely agree,” said another. “What kind of monster would hurt a child and somehow justify it to himself? I see that little girl every day as she walks to school, I assume. If I remember correctly, she will walk past here again around three o’clock on her way home. We can watch where she goes then.”

Four of the gang members stood from their seats, walked to the edge of the sidewalk and watched the little girl continue her walk to school. “If the little girl is being abused, we can only assume that her mother is suffering the same kind of trauma as well. Everyone pay attention to the clock so we don’t miss seeing her when she returns. This is very important; no child should have to suffer abuse from the one who is supposed to be protecting her.”

The lunch hour crept upon them faster than any of them realized, when one of the men offered to ride to the local taco truck and pick up lunch for everyone. The men sat together in the sunshine, enjoying their tacos and Modelos. “Oh, hey, we still need to fix Larry’s carburetor. Let’s finish lunch and hopefully we can have that taken care before the little girl returns,” Alexander said.

Lunch was finished, the Modelos were drained, allowing Larry to gather the garbage, making room for his motorcycle to be brought into the open space. One of the other men immediately dove into the work of removing the carburetor, to then bring it to the work bench to be dissembled, cleaned, and repaired.

“Oh, hey, look,” Alexander said, “there’s the little girl, we need to see which building so goes into and then we can make a plan to deal with the piece of human trash that is making her so miserable.”

Twelve of then men stepped to the sidewalk and watched the little girl ascend the steps into an apartment building, pausing before she walked through the door. “Oh, man, that poor kid,” one of them said, “no child should dread going home. We need to set up a surveillance plan to see which apartment is hers, and who comes and goes into it. I cannot wait to get my hands on whoever it is that his making her so miserable.”

Four men set themselves up to watch the front door of the building and four other men moved into the alley to watch the rear entrance. “You know, this is going to be difficult to determine who is part of her household. We need to have someone in the building to figure out which apartment she is in and we can then act on her behalf.”

“I’ll go inside,” Alexander said. “There are a lot of people that live in that building, so blending in should be easy enough to do. I’ll get over there tomorrow morning before she leaves for school. That’ll tell us which apartment is hers and a bunch of us can pay that monster a visit to inform him that we know what is going on and that his life will become very painful and unpleasant if something doesn’t change.”

 The sunshine on the next morning greeted the bikers as they arrived at the garage. “I need to get into that apartment building,” Alexander said. “Hopefully, I’m not too late to see her come out of her apartment. Once I figure it out, I’ll be back with an apartment number and we can deal with this guy and persuade him to change his behavior.”

Alexander hurried into the alley, slipped in the rear entrance to make a quick walk around the first floor and then the second floor and then the third floor. Breathing a sigh of relief, he watched the little girl emerge from the door on the far end of the hallway on the third floor. He smiled at her when she walked past, to then hurry to her doorway and memorize the number. He sat on the top step of the stair with a clear view of her door to watch a small, greasy, angry little man leave the apartment. He memorized the man’s appearance and slowly followed him down the stairs.

He watched the man leave by the rear door, walk through the alley and approach the bus stop to wait for his ride. “Okay then, now we know,” he said to himself. “This will be an easy fix. Back to the garage to put together a plan to protect that little girl.” He hurried down the alley and slipped inside to share what he had learned in the last few minutes.

“I know which apartment she lives in and I’ve identified the guy that lives there with her,” he told them. “He leaves just minutes after the little girl, going to work I assume. We need to plan on how to communicate our concerns to him and force him to stop what he is doing. He’s little, greasy and clearly arrogant, so threats of violence will be enough to make him change his ways.”

Six of the bikers stood in the alley near the rear entrance of the apartment building to watch the greasy, little man begin ascending the stairs to go inside. “Alright, let’s stop him before he goes inside,” Alexander said. “Hey, you, stop right there,” he shouted as all six of them hurried up the steps and dragged the pathetic little man into the alley.

“We’ve been watching the little girl walk to school every day,” one of them said. “We couldn’t help but notice that she is always injured in some way. This will be the only warning you receive from us. If you don’t stop abusing her, we will inflict serious trauma upon you. What kind of man justifies to himself that abusing a small child is acceptable?”

A volley of punches and kicks followed Alexander’s words of warning, leaving the man in a bloody heap at the bottom of the stairs. “You should be protecting her, you piece of trash,” one of them said. “Change whatever it is that you are doing. This beating will be the first of many if you don’t change how you treat her.”

The six bikers walked away from the crumpled and suffering little man to return to their garage. The next morning the garage full of bikers watched the little girl once again walk past their shop, holding her hand over her eye, which they could easily see was blackened.

“Okay guys, looks like we need to make another visit to her father,” Alexander said. “We can catch him as he is leaving the alley for work. Some people clearly are not very intelligent, so let’s teach him another lesson.” The six men hid in the shadows and seized the greasy, little man as he reached the bottom of the stairs. Another beating, this one more vicious than the last immediately followed.

The dozen other men in the garage watched as the girl’s father staggered from the alley to the bus stop, holding his ribs with what was clearly a broken hand. The bus disappeared into the distance.

“I don’t know about anyone else, but I think when he comes back from work today, we need to stop him from going into the apartment building,” one of them said. The day nearly came to an end and the garage full of bikers watched the sore and somewhat broken man emerge from the bus and stagger toward the alley. “Quick, we need to meet him in the alley before he gets the idea of going back inside,” one of them said.

Six men hurried into the alley, and Alexander picked up a brick from the ground to then launch it toward the man’s head. “Hey, you ignorant piece of trash, don’t even think about going inside. You need to find somewhere else to live. If we see you around here again, you’ll get another beating worse than the one you received this morning. Get lost.”

They watched the man slink away in the opposite direction of their garage. “I would hope that he is smart enough to never come back,” Alexander said, “and now we have the responsibility of providing for his wife and daughter. I’m sure we all have enough money to keep the two of them from getting evicted and going hungry. Let’s go pay them a visit and explain what has happened.”

Alexander and another of the bikers slipped into the apartment building, knocked on the girl’s door to be greeted by a young woman who also carried many wounds and bruises. “Hello ma’am,” Alexander said. “Me and my friends work in the motorcycle shop just a few doors down and we’ve been watching your daughter walk to school every morning with signs of abuse. So, we intervened in her and your best interest.”

“Hello,” the woman said. “My name is Maggie and this is my daughter Angela, can you tell me what you did?”

“Yes, of course,” Alexander answered. “Me and four of our friends poured out two beatings on the man that has been abusing you and her. We convinced him to never return and at the same time, we have decided that we will pay for your rent and buy groceries so you are comfortable and safe.”

“Oh, my goodness, thank you so much,” she said.

“Of course,” Alexander answered. “Children and women should not have to live in such horrible conditions. It is our belief that we need to intervene and help whenever we can. We’ll stop by once a week to pay your rent and buy whatever groceries you need. My name is Alexander and this is Tommy. We’ll make sure that this horrible person never returns to this apartment.”

“Thank you so much,” she said.

“We’ll be back in a week,” Alexander said. “Put together a list of groceries that you need and how much cash you need to pay your rent, your electricity, and your water bill. We are more than happy to help. Have a good day, Maggie.”

As promised, within a week, Alexander, Tommy and another biker stood at Maggie and Angela’s door to deliver the promised financial support and to receive a list of grocery needs. An hour later they returned with everything on the list and several other items they believed would be appreciated.

Two days later as all the bikers sat in their garage, they watched as Angela approached through the front entrance carrying a container of cookies. “Hello, Alexander,” she said. “Mommy and I baked these for you and your friends. Thank you for all you have done for us. We cannot thank you enough.”

“Hello, Angela,” Alexander answered. “It is so nice to see you. Thank you and your mommy for the cookies. I know everyone here will really enjoy them.” He received the container of cookies with a smile, handed them to Tommy and took Angela by the hand.

“Come along, my dear,” he said. “I’ll walk you back to your apartment.”

From Something to Nothing to Something

 

            Julius woke up beneath a pile of flattened cardboard boxes, slightly damp, painfully hungry and confused as to his location. He slid out from beneath his temporary protection from the elements to see other people in a similar state scattered around the alleyway. Still tired and disappointed in the tragic turn his life had taken several years prior, he thought back to his years at university, which was followed by a high paying job as a financial manager.

               “Ugh, this is ridiculous,” he grumbled. “I was earning six figures a year, had a wife and kids, lived in opulence, drove a Bentley and now I live in an alley and am hungry all the time. I guess that’s what happens when your best friend deceives you, fabricates stories about your ethics, and reports you to the police.”

               “Grocery store, get to a grocery store,” he muttered to himself. “There is always discarded food in the dumpsters behind the stores. Phew, I am so hungry. Looks like I have about a thirty-minute walk to the closest store.” He walked out of the alley, stopped at the corner and gave a few minutes of consideration of the shortest path to the grocery store. “I think I’ll cut through that neighborhood, that should save me about ten minutes.”

               As he shuffled past the largest and most beautiful homes in the city, he could see their occupants peeking through the curtains as he passed by. Seeing these homes, seeing these arrogant and selfish people stirred up memories of his former life, his own selfishness, and the deception that had been used against him to bring him to this place in life.

               Julius could see the grocery store sign hovering far overhead only a few blocks ahead of him. “Okay, let’s hope I can find something of some nutritional value and something to drink,” he muttered. He began walking faster, slipped into the alley and found several discarded boxes of doughnuts, a gallon jug of iced tea, and a bag of apples. “Yes, this is perfect,” he said. Slipping the items into his backpack, he left the alley, found a small park with benches and enjoyed his free meal while watching children and dogs play in the open space.

               After consuming six doughnuts, two apples, and almost half of the iced tea, he rose from the park bench to take a seat beneath a massive maple tree. As he waited and watched the activity in the park, he was approached by two police officers looking less than friendly or compassionate.

               “Excuse me, sir,” one of them said, “I need to see some identification and an explanation of why you are here.”

               Julius slowly rose to his feet, cautiously removed his wallet from his pocket, handed over his driver’s license and spoke with respect. “I’ve been in a bad place for several years,” he said. “I really wanted to get outside and enjoy the park setting while I ate my breakfast.”

               “We’ll need you to come with us,” the other officer said. “We have received reports that a questionable character was seen wandering through a local neighborhood and you perfectly match the description given to us. I’ll place your backpack in the trunk of the car, put your hands behind your back while we drive you to the station to be processed.”

               As Julius was confined in the small space of the police car, he immediately noticed just how horribly he smelled but he felt better after having plenty to eat. He was removed from the back of the police car and led inside the station to answer questions at a desk from a third officer. His name, where he lived, the details of his life, and the horrible path he had lived for the past several years.

               Shortly thereafter he was led to a jail cell to join four others who seemed to be in a similar position as himself. He watched the clock slowly crawl by as two hours passed until another officer opened the cell, called him out, and introduced him to a man who appeared to be a priest. Julius and the priest left the station, to learn that the priest had paid for his bail with the promise to get him back to a better place in life.

               “Hello Julius,” the priest said. “My name is Father Andrew and I hope I and the people at my church can help you get yourself back to a better place in life. We have a small apartment where you can stay, shower, sleep, and dress in untattered and clean clothes. I’ll take you there now and you can get settled in and comfortable.”

               The two men climbed into the priest’s car, drove a few blocks, parked and walked into a very small apartment. “I’ll be back in about three hours, which should give you enough time to clean up, relax, and get dressed. When I return, we can get some lunch, and I’ll introduce you to some other men from our church. We are all very interested in hearing about how we can help you, your past, and find you a new path to walk to improve yourself.”

               “Thank you so much, Father Andrew,” Julius said. “I truly appreciate your generosity and help. I’ll see you in about three hours.”

               He watched the priest leave the apartment, lock the door behind him, to then undress and drop his clothing into the garbage can in the kitchen. “Man, it has been a long time since I’ve had a good shower,” he said to himself. As the warm water washed over his body, he watched months of filth slither down the drain. “I should start at the top,” he said. “Wash my hair, my face and work my way down. Phew, this feels so much better.”

               Scrubbing away months of dirt and stink, he stood motionless in the warm water, realized his fingernails and toenails were ridiculously long and dirty, to then turn off the water, and dry himself as he stood on the bath mat. He looked through the bathroom to find clippers, scissors, a comb and a razor. “I guess I have to cut my own hair, trim this beard short, and shave in order to look civilized.”

               Feeling like a completely different person, he wandered through the apartment to find a set of clothes that fit him and he waited for the three hours to pass when Father Andrew would return. “I could really go for a good, warm lunch right now,” he said. “Let’s see how this plays out.” The priest arrived, they left the apartment, drove to a local diner to meet three other men, where he was informed he could order anything he wanted from the menu.

               The five men spent the next hour talking about Julius’ early life, his years at university, his job in financial management, the deception of someone he believed was his friend, his loss of wife and children, and his abilities in many different fields. As they finished their meals, he was offered the opportunity to stay at the apartment for as long as he needed, with an offer to find him work to save up enough money to find his own residence.

               After returning to the apartment, Julius spent the next four days submitting applications to jobs in the financial management field. He received a job offer from his third application which he quickly accepted. He then placed a phone call to Father Andrew to inform him of his new job, his plan to save enough money for the next three months to then find his own home. “I cannot thank you and the other men enough,” he said. “You all have made great sacrifices for me and helped me get back on the right path.”

               “Of course,” Father Andrew said. “This is what life is supposed to be like. We’ll reconnect after three months once you find your new home. Yes, we’ll stay in contact during that time and I hope you continue making good decisions. This is a new opportunity for you. Talk to you soon.”

               Julius made a habit of visiting different churches each Sunday morning, starting of course with the Orthodox church led by Father Andrew. This was followed by a visit to a Baptist church, a Presbyterian church, a Roman church, and a non-denominational church. After each service he was disappointed to find that with the exception of the Orthodox church, all the other churches were cold, distant, and uninterested in genuine interaction.

               Three months passed, and he placed a call to Father Andrew, informing him that he now had enough money to secure his own home. “I’ll be visiting your parish next week,” he said, “so I can return the keys, offer my genuine thanks and have a final interaction with all of you.”

               Because he had not yet enough money to purchase a car, Julius walked to the Orthodox church to be warmly welcomed and enjoyed the beauty and stillness of the service. When the service was over, he joined the entire congregation for a meal afterwards, where he interacted with several others he had not yet previously known. He accepted an offer for a ride to the apartment to gather his few things, and a subsequent ride to his new home.

               Julius stood on the front step of the duplex, waved goodbye to Father Andrew as he drove away. As he stood in the sunshine enjoying the warmth, he was approached by his neighbor to receive a friendly introduction. The two men exchanged names, phone numbers, and shared a brief history of their lives.

               “It was nice meeting you, Harold,” Julius said. “I wanted to let you know that I will be receiving a lot of deliveries over the next few weeks.  Can I leave you my garage code so that when deliveries are made, if you are home, you can let them in to place the parcels in the garage?”

               “Yes, of course,” Harold said. “Package theft isn’t really much of a problem in our neighborhood but having them out of sight would be a good idea. I’m glad to see that someone responsible and intelligent is moving in next door. Let’s stay in contact as you get settled in. I know a lot of people who could make good use of your financial advice. Have a good day, Julius.”

               The two men shook hands, Julius watched Harold walk back into his duplex, to then walk into his own empty duplex. “Wow, I need to get some food in this fridge,” he grumbled. “The table, chairs, and bed are supposed to be here today. With that in mind, I need to walk down to the mall and pick up the few essentials to keep myself moving forward. Oh shoot, I need to give my garage code to Harold before I leave.”

               He knocked on Harold’s door, handed him a slip of paper with the garage code, informed him of his walk to the mall to pick up a few things. Upon hearing this Harold immediately offered to drive him there and back. “We can use my truck so you don’t have to carry your things such a long distance. I would like to help as much as I can,” he said. “There is nothing better than having a good neighbor. Did you want to go right now?”

               “Yes, that would be great, thank you,” Julius said.

Couldn't Keep

 

            They stood together at the edge of the wooded property with a small, flowing stream, with dreams of ownership, dreams of building a large, beautiful home that would one day be filled with children, who would eventually become adults, marry, and build homes of their own on this vast piece of property, essentially creating a massive homestead that would be a place of safety for extended family.

               Many prior years of hard work, saving as much money as possible, and carefully crafting plans to bring about their dreams and desires finally became a reality. Commitment, faithfulness, diligence, and focus on building their new life one step at a time, created a time frame that allowed them to steadily make progress, instill a good work ethic and see the fruit of their work become their new reality.

               The original home started out small to grow in steps, adding space as space was needed, with each coming child more rooms were added, gardens were planted, an orchard was begun, firewood was cut, and a hobby farm of sorts was begun, creating a place to grow, to learn, to improve, and to become better people. Between working a full-time job, caring for the farm, raising children, and increasing the size of the home as more room was needed, they eventually stood together as a family to look out across the vast and seemingly limitless forest that surrounded them.

               Like a dream and vision that had no end, his plans, his hopes, and his aspirations also had no limit. Arriving home each day after a full day of work, he was always pleased to see that the house was clean, organized, and peaceful. As he drove up the two-mile gravel driveway to pull up in front of the house, he could see his two oldest sons splitting and stacking firewood. His oldest daughter was hidden somewhere among the bee hives on the southern part of the property, gathering the honeycomb to extract the honey from the wax that was to be used for making candles, two other sources of income for the home.

               The years slowly ticked by, to bring the addition of more children, and with them the need for more space, more food, and the glory of safe space in the forests around them. Three or four days a week, he would return home to find that the older children were keeping the house running, keeping it clean and orderly, as their mother was often gone off doing who knows what. “This just doesn’t seem right,” he would say to himself as he walked into the home.

               Hugging each child as he entered the home, he prepared dinner, thanked them all for their hard work and diligence in maintaining a comfortable and peaceful home. As darkness began to settle, he called everyone in from all corners of the home, the forest, and the furthest reaches of what they called their homestead to join him at the table for an almost comprehensive family dinner.

               The evening meal was finished and the oldest three children stepped up to put away the leftover food, clean the kitchen, wash the dishes, and shuffle off the smaller children to simple and helpful duties around the house. He hugged each child again as the meal was complete, to then slip away to the cool breeze and darkness of the open front porch, relishing the peace and silence.

               He repeatedly checked his watch as the evening grew darker and colder until ten o’clock rolled around, prompting him to take a shower and slip into an empty bed. He knew what the next several hours would bring or not bring, finally falling asleep he woke, once again to an empty bed to find something to eat for breakfast while all the children remained asleep. “Lunch, I need to put together something for lunch,” he muttered to himself. “This is crazy, our evenings as a family should not be this way.”

               He woke the oldest three, communicated his love for them, urged them to rise from bed, step up and help around the house, to ensure that the smaller children would be taken care of, would eat well, and would continue to learn to be helpful in so many daily chores. “If your mother does not show up soon, I’ll need you all to work through the school work with the little ones,” he said. “I’ll call during my lunch break and make sure that you all are doing well.”

               Muttering under his breath as he drove to work, hating the idea of leaving the children unattended. “They are too little to left with this much responsibility,” he said to himself. “Maybe I’ll call a friend, a neighbor or another family member to check on them at some point today.”

               The first half of his day crept by and as he ate his peanut butter and jelly sandwich, he dialed the home phone number to receive no response. “Wow, that’s not good,” he said. “I guess I should try again in about an hour. This is truly disturbing.” His lunch break ended, he kept one eye on the clock and when another hour had passed, he once again placed another phone call to again receive no response.

               Thirty minutes before the end of the day, his cellphone rang, with a call from his sister-in-law, with alarming news that no one was at his home when she drove there to check on the children. “Okay, thanks for the call,” he said. “I’m going to leave early and see if I can figure out what is going on out there. I’ll call you if I figure anything out.”

               He called a brief meeting with his boss, explained the situation and the need to leave early that day. “I’ll come in early tomorrow to make up for today, or I’ll stay late tomorrow to make up for today, whichever you prefer,” he said. Rolling his neck to try to dissipate the tension that had been building since lunch, he took several deep breaths and drove home to find that the entire family was absent, the house was dark with a good deal of their personal belongings missing as well.

               “Brr, it is so cold in here,” he grumbled. “I need to start a fire and burn off this chill. Let’s see if I can find a note, an explanation or something to make sense of this aching emptiness.” He gathered some firewood, crumpled some newspaper, split some kindling, and soon had a roaring fire in the fireplace, slowly increasing the temperature level in the home. “Okay, look through each room and each flat surface in hope of finding a note that gives me something to work with to understand what is happening.”

               Every room was searched; every flat surface was reviewed to produce nothing of any sort of explanation for his solitude. He found himself looking at his watch every ten minutes until darkness slowly swallowed his empty home, leaving him feeling empty and sad and hungry all at the same time. “Guess I should find something to eat,” he said. “Looks like I’ll be spending the evening alone. Man, this is frustrating and confusing, what to do, what to do?”

               He filled his belly with whatever he could find in the refrigerator to then take a shower, and slip into bed early, knowing that another full day of work lay ahead of him. He crawled out of bed earlier than normal, walked from room to room, to once again find that he was still alone, the house had gone cold as the fire had burned itself out while he slept. “Oof, off to work I guess,” he grumbled. “I need some breakfast first and I’ll see what the day brings.”

               Lunch time came around; he placed a call to the home phone to once again receive no answer. He took a thirty-minute lunch to make up for his early departure the day before to then leave at his normal time, followed by a thirty-minute drive home and a slow tortuous drive up the gravel driveway. Darkness had not yet begun to fall and he approached the charred remains of their once beautiful home, sick at the thought that all his hard work, his years of thoughts, saving, and planning was now gone, leaving only an aching emptiness inside of him.

               “Nothing is here, everything is gone, now what do I do,” he wondered. Now with nothing but clothes on his back, his shoes, his car, and his cellphone, he drove into the nearest town to find a cheap motel room. “I need to run by the grocery store, pick up a few things, and settle into the motel which will provide a place to sleep, a shower, and hopefully a decent continental breakfast following my rising from sleep the next morning.”

               Jarred from his restless sleep, he woke up confused, wishing that his memories from the previous day were all part of a horrible dream. As he woke up in a bed and room he did not recognize, he knew that his reality had just radically changed into a wretched new existence, a new world that left him alone, confused, and with very little to call his own.

“Phew, time to think about a new approach to life, a new way to interact, and how to move forward,” he grumbled. “I need to figure out how to find answers for all that has happened in the last few days.”

The Ultimate Change

 

            Julio was born in the Mission District, a neighborhood of the rapidly declining city of San Francisco, the only son of a family that had been part of the United States for three generations. With three older sisters and one younger sister, he learned to be hard, aggressive, and protective of those he loved. Unusually tall for a Hispanic boy, he learned to use his size, his passion, and his strength to instill fear in those in the community around him, eventually taking on the reputation of one whom no one dared anger.

               By his thirteenth birthday, he had grown taller and larger than everyone in his extended family. On his way home from school, mere months before beginning his years of high school, he came across two classmates harassing his younger sister with vulgar comments and suggestive threats against her person. Without giving away his presence, he motioned for his sister to ignore his approach, to then knock the heads of the two boys together and watch them drop to the street.

               He stepped on the hands of both boys to release a cracking sound and a groan from each, to then put his arm around his sister and walk her home with promises that he would never allow anyone to harm her, speak to her in that way, or get away with that kind of verbal abuse. As they mounted the steps to their apartment, little Maria wrapped him in a strong embrace with tears of thanksgiving.

“Thank you, brother,” she said. “I am always amazed at how some people still do things like that when they know that you’ll deal with them in a way that they won’t find pleasant.”

               He gave her a gentle hug in return, opened the door for her, and sat down on the steps to communicate the message that he would have no one treating his sister in that way. From his seated position, he could see the two boys pull themselves to their feet and run in the opposite direction, noticing a quick glance back from them both. With the look back, he stood up, descended the steps and made an aggressive move toward them as they ran away.

               From that day forward, Julio always walked little Maria to her school before heading toward his own building. He was part way through his next school day to see the two boys from the day before with their hands in bandages, which stirred in him a small laugh as he watched them struggle with working through their homework and taking notes.

               The school year finished and Julio began his four-year journey through high school, already having the name and attitude that everyone respected and didn’t care confront, knowing that violence would certainly follow any disrespect to him, to his friends, or to his family. Upon reaching graduation, he had no intention of continuing an education into university and instead took a job as a delivery person. This path became his new reality, providing a steady income to take care of his needs and the needs of his family.

               On more than one occasion, he was confronted by small groups of young men who intended to abscond with his packages and impose some pain upon him at the same time. Julio knew of what he was capable, protected the responsibility with which he was entrusted and broke more than a few bones on those who dared confront him. After six years in this role, his reputation and show of sheer force created a reputation that no one else dared challenge.

               This role of delivery person gave him the opportunity to see his own neighborhood, other neighborhoods, and how people in other cultures lived and succeeded. The criminal activity of those around him tore at his heart, moving him to make the decision to begin a new role and create a new reputation in and around his community. The day after his last delivery, he called together his four closest friends to brainstorm on an idea that had been building within his heart and mind.

               “Hey guys, thanks for getting together,” he said. “As I’ve been doing this delivery work for so long, I’ve seen a lot of crime, and how other people live. I’ve been thinking that the five of us could start a security business where we provide protection for a wealthy clientele.”

               “Security, really,” one of his friends said. “I have a feeling that we would be hard pressed to convince pretty much anyone to hire young Hispanic guys for protection.”

               “I’ve been doing some research,” Julio said. “The pay for roles like this is exceptionally high and I know we could do a great job with our knowledge of these neighborhoods, and how to protect ourselves and others. This will give us the opportunity to disprove the ugly picture that so many have of young Hispanic men. I’ll set everything up, let’s give this a try. I’ll keep you updated as all the details fall into place.”

               Two weeks passed and Julio began to make connections, began the paperwork for a business license, to then receive confirmation from his four friends that they would be interested in joining him in his endeavor. “Hey guys, I made some business cards for us that we can begin delivering to different people, different businesses, and different neighborhoods.”

               Within one week of passing out business cards and connecting with businesses around the city, his phone began to blow up from client’s seeking their services. Julio and his friends began their work of protection for over one dozen clients, which allowed them enough income to create an office with a warm, clean, and friendly environment to receive new customers.

               When Julio and his friends reached their thirtieth birthdays, they were in awe of how large their client base had become. “Guys, we really should consider hiring more people to help us with the amount of work we have right now,” he said. “I really hate the idea of turning down work because the five of us cannot handle it all. If you have any ideas, talk to them and if they’re interested, we can bring them in for an interview and hopefully continue to grow our client base.”

               ‘Julio and Friends’ became the protection service that most small companies and wealthy individuals in and around the Bay area went to for flawless and genuine protection. Julio and his four friends watched their business continue to grow, taking on more and more agents. When Julio reached the age of fifty, he made the decision to bring on more agents and spend the majority of his time making connections, handling paperwork, and helping change the neighborhood for the good of those he knew and loved.

               As he drew closer to retirement age, he chose one of his agents to take over the role that he currently filled, while accepting a reduced income from the business to continue supporting himself and his family. ‘Julio and Friends’ continued to blossom, create safety, protection, a safe neighborhood, and also destroy the unfortunate stereotype against young Hispanic men. He and his four original friends sat in the park playing chess across from their office which had recently expanded, as they shared stories about how radically everything had changed since they began this business of protection.

               He would stop into the office once a month to interact with those he had placed in charge since his absence. After each visit, he would leave the office smiling, knowing that he and his friends had done a good thing, were helping people, and were making the world a better place. Though drawing close to seventy years old, he was still stronger and more agile that most on the streets of his neighborhood.

               After a pleasant afternoon with his four friends, he invited them to join him on a short walk throughout the neighborhoods that surrounded the Mission District. As they slowly walked from block to block, they counted seventeen different situations that involved agents from ‘Julio and Friends’.

               “Guys, we have done a good thing,” he said. “Who would have thought that a crazy idea I had so many years ago would turn into a flourishing business that is destroying the bad image that so many have of young Hispanic men. I want to remind you of how proud we should all be with the work we have done.”

               “I couldn’t agree more,” one of his friends said. “Honestly, I’m getting tired. Let’s go back to my place, watch a movie and enjoy some pizza delivery. We aren’t too far away from there right now. This has been a great day. Yes, Julio, you are right. Since we started this protection business, we are seeing many of our young men with jobs to support themselves and their families. This was a great idea that you pulled together and has created hope for our community.”

Forgetting History

 

The week after his eighteenth birthday, Matthew walked to the Marine’s registration office to sign over his life in the service of his country. He had graduated from high school at the top of his class with dreams and aspirations of doing good for others and of making the world a better and safer place. After a thirty-minute conversation with the recruitment officer, twice he carefully read through the documents laid before him and with no further questions, signed his name to learn that he had twenty days before he would be on a bus to training camp in the Midwest.

The thirty-minute walk back home gave him time to craft his thoughts, his arguments, and his conversation with his parents. “It would probably be wise to wait at least half of the time before I leave to lay this out on my parents,” he thought. His mind was sharper and more educated than anyone he knew, his strength, his stamina, and his ability to overcome any physical challenge could not be any better.

He rounded the corner to his neighborhood, ascended his front steps, and entered his home to find his mother waiting for him at the kitchen counter. “Hi Matthew,” she said, “I would ask where you’ve been but based on your slightly sweaty state of being, I have to assume you were out exercising.”

“Hi Mom, yes, you’re right,” he answered. “I needed to get out and burn off some energy. There is nothing better than that dopamine hit when one is bored and not wanting to distract oneself with social media or television. Yes, it was a great workout. I have to say I am terribly hungry. Should I have a snack now or will we be having dinner soon?”

Ten days passed and Matthew worked very hard to keep his secret plans quiet. The weekend came around and he joined his parents in the living room to watch a movie but before the movie started, he shared his plans of joining the Marines, and that he would be on a bus to the East Coast in ten days hence. The day of his departure arrived far faster than he could have imagined, his mother was in tears, and his father was smiling with pride at his son’s decision to be one who would make a difference in the world. The details for his time and location of departure had arrived in the mail three days before.

Matthew now stood at the train station with his ticket in hand, his suitcase packed with clothes and snacks, with dreams growing larger and larger in his mind. In a sea of other young men close to his age, they all squeezed onto the train, engaged in small talk and wondered about the length of their training and possible locations for them after training was complete. The ten-hour train ride finally came to an end, they gathered their luggage, transferred it to storage beneath a bus, found their seats therein and rode for two hours to training camp.

The thirteen weeks of training passed and Matthew found himself on an airplane to Camp Hansen in Okinawa, Japan. He was well over six feet tall, white, and built like a piece of steel, finding himself thrilled at being of service to his country, of helping make the world a better place, and as the plane descended to land, he learned that he would become part of the MP’s in and around the city of Okinawa. The plane landed to be greeted by a bus to take he and his fellow soldiers to the base.

They arrived at the base, they were greeted by those in charge, and were scattered across several barracks, were given assignments, and learned that regardless of who was committing whatever crime, it was their responsibility to diffuse the situation with grace and dignity. Foundationally, their job was to put a stop to any crime or incursion taking place, whether it was being committed by a civilian or another soldier.

Matthew was connected to Alexander, a fellow soldier of the same age and same family situation. They were assigned to a twelve-block portion of town that consisted mostly of storefronts and a few high-rise apartment buildings. The two young men walked shoulder to shoulder in a systematic pattern to cover their assigned portion of the city. Matthew drove his elbow into Alexander’s ribs which was followed by a verbal command to watch a certain young man with a backpack entering a small store.

“Hey, check out that kid,” Matthew said. “He had a backpack when he walked into the store and now he no longer does. We need to follow up on that, come on, stay with me.” The two men hurried into the store, saw the abandoned backpack, quickly retrieved it, ran out of the store to deposit it in the middle of the street. The two young men moved in opposite directions, blocking off traffic with the concern that the backpack may contain explosives. Shouting and motioning for everyone to stay back and clear out the area, the backpack exploded, releasing a volley of shrapnel and nails, essentially causing no damage to anyone or anything.

“Alexander, call it in,” Matthew said. “We just saved a number of lives and avoided serious damage to someone’s store.”

“Alright, I’m on it,” Alexander answered. Within twenty minutes a team of Marine’s arrived and began searching through security footage to identify the young man with the backpack.

“Alright, Alexander, it looks like we’ve done our job and the research team will take care of the rest,” Matthew said. “Let’s keep moving in and around our assigned space.”

The two young men continued their pattern around the city, until Alexander spotted three other Marine’s abduct a young girl from a street corner to drag her into an alley. “Matthew, check that out,” he said. “That does not look good. We need to get over there, take some photos and protect that little girl. Three Marine’s abducting a girl will certainly not lead to a good conclusion.”

Feeling like a finely tuned weapon, Matthew ran ahead into the alley, used his years of physical training, boxing skills, and grappling techniques to disable the three Marine’s. “Alexander, call this in,” he said. “We will need to keep these three here and the girl as well. It is situations like this that make the US military look bad. I’m sure another research team will be here sooner than later.”

Matthew and Alexander became close friends until their three years of service in Okinawa ended to potentially send them both home. “Wow, Alexander,” Matthew said. “Think back to all the good that we have done to protect others, to prevent damage, and to improve the look of the US military in this city. I’m done with my three years of service and cannot wait to see my family, my friends, and my hometown again.”

Matthew signed his final papers which allowed him to be honorably discharged from the Marines and to also receive awards of commendation for his excellent work. The two young men exchanged hugs and Alexander watched Matthew enter the plane to return home while he made the decision to complete an additional three years of service.

Matthew landed at LAX and was greeted by his parents and three friends from high school. Receiving multiple hugs from a teary-eyed mother, he was thrilled at the prospect of eating home cooked meals rather than the bland military food he had been forced to consume the past three years. Within six months of arriving at home, Matthew and two of his friends from high school began their own security service, providing personalized protection for the wealthy and the important.

The transition from military life to being a private body guard was a smooth change, allowing him to continue using his skills in the service of others. As he reached his thirtieth year, he eventually proposed to his girlfriend, in a relationship that had been brewing for the last three years. Six months later, he and she became one after a beautiful ceremony at the local church.

After a two-week honeymoon, Matthew returned to work to share his new idea with his business partners. “Hey guys, I have been thinking about something,” he said. “Our business is doing exceptional with so many wealthy and important people paying us very well for our services. I was thinking that we should start spending time on the streets of our hometown, providing an unpaid neighborhood watch kind of situation. We have the skills and the passion to serve and protect. It would only have to be a few hours on weekends when we’re not busy with doing private work for our paying clients.”

His two partners agreed with him and the new idea was put into action, which brought about an incredible decline in violence, theft, and abuse of those who were vulnerable. All three men eventually grew old, hired other young men to continue their work, to eventually retire, and receive commendation from the city mayor, the governor of the state, the state patrol, the sheriff’s department, and the city police department.

Matthew continued to watch the trajectory of the company that he and his friends had started, to sadly see that it was shut down after twenty years of service without them. Matthew, his two friends and their wives would meet each week to lament the slow decline of the quality of life, the increasing crime and the sad news of their company being shut down.

“This is so sad to me, guys,” Matthew said. “I put in three years of military service, and decades of work in our city to fight against crime and now it seems like all that work has come to nothing. If you go onto social media, watch the news, and look at the people that are considered important, you won’t see any of them doing anything of actual value.”

“Yep, that is the sad truth,” one of his friends said. “Most people aren’t really concerned about truth, justice, or helping others, it seems that everyone simply wants to be distracted. Fortunately, we won’t be around forever to see the continued decline into this kind of nonsense. Should we start up the business once again, by hiring new people to continue the work that accomplished so much?”

“I think that’s a great idea,” Matthew said. “We all will need to ask around and see if we can put something together. It would be a crime to simply let it all go. After hiring new men to continue the work, we also need to establish a board of trustees so that the work will always continue. We cannot leave that decision up to the new hires.”