Finding Hope (5 page)

Mr. Howard leaned in close to his loyal companion and gave her a tender kiss. He smiled at h
is dear wife and said, “Thanks Honey, you keep me focused on what’s important.”

Mr. Howard grabbed a drink of water and followed the other men to the door. “Wait, my boy! Where’s my boy?” Mr. Howard s
houted as if he was in pain. “…Can’t leave without some good luck from Isaac.”

At that moment
, a thin boy with curly red hair joined his father from across the hotel suite. “Go get ‘em Dad,” Isaac yelled giving his dad a high five, “…Show ‘em who they’re messin’ with!” Mr. Howard beamed like a child as he walked out of the room.

“How do you think D
ad will do tonight?” Isaac asked his mother as he grabbed a book and sat on the bed.

“He’s full of pep tonight so I’m sure he’ll do great,” Lori replied. “How are you doing? Sorry we missed the last few weeks of school.”

Isaac peered at his mother with his youthful green eyes and responded, “Just don’t let it happen again.” They both laughed as his mother prepared to watch the debate from the hotel room.

Isaac was fifteen years old a
nd had no interest in politics. What he did love, was his father and all the knowledge he possessed. Anytime Isaac had a question, his father knew the answer. He was fascinated when his father spoke about history and the forming of his great country. His father gave another perspective to the stories he heard in school about the founding fathers, state and federal government, and the country’s role in the world. He had learned so much from his dad and aimed to emulate him someday.

The door knocked in a familiar pattern Isaac had heard many times before. “Mom, Jason wants to check out the hotel lob
by. We’ll be back in an hour. OK?” Isaac asked his mother Lori.

“Yea
h that’s fine, but be back before the debate is over. Your dad will want to talk about how it went,” Lori explained as the debate began on the glowing TV.

It was common for Isaac to travel with his dad as he campaigned. They even brought tutors when the trips lasted more than a couple weeks. Jason was the sixteen year old son of Mr. Howard’s campaign manager
, and Isaac had become good friends with him.

They had traveled together many times before. Although he normally wouldn’t hang out with Jason, he was one of the kids
who was always around. Jason was a year older than Isaac, but was daring and confident well beyond his years. Compared to Isaac’s more reserved nature, Jason offered a sense of danger and mischief missing in his young life.

“Let’s get outta here,” Jason whispered as he fled the parental supervision.

“Don’t run! And be back in an hour,” Isaac heard his mother say as he followed Jason down the hall. They broke free into the hotel lobby as quickly as their teenage legs would carry them. They collapsed on the lonely furniture in the large hotel lobby content to watch the travelers pass by as they check in.

“Now that looks nice, look at her tits
… I’d love to hit that,” Jason said peering at a hotel guest who was well beyond his years. “Dare me to go talk to her?”

“Shut up dude
, she’s obviously looking at me,” Isaac replied adjusting his shirt collar.

“
I could show her a thing or two,” Jason said in a voice way too loud for the quiet space.

Embarrassed, Isaac laughed and said, “Dude they probably know we’re here with the campaign. Not so loud.”

“Hey let’s get out of here. Let’s go check outside,” Jason said pushing his young concubine. They ran out into the street and into the evening air. The smell of exhaust and garbage filled their tender noises. The great city of Atlanta, Georgia filled their view as they went to discover life. “Just around the block,” Jason said. “Don’t be such a wimp.”

Before Isaac could answer, Jason was already on his way. Isaac stood and soaked in the newly found freedom and surrounding civilization. The lights and sounds of traffic all around him gave the sense of safety and assurance. As they walked down Courtland Street, Isaac noticed the variety of people who made this area home.

Up against the wall of the corner market sat a small group of people who looked sad and alone. Their clothes were torn, and they looked as if it’s been days since they’ve bathed. They were politely asking strangers for spare change. Isaac recognized the empty expressions of these people as they struggled to live. He noticed one young woman especially. She was young, maybe twenty five years old, and she had beautiful eyes full of despair. She was un-kempt and unhappy as she shuffled from person to person. She had a young child with her as she begged. Her young boy was about eight years old. He sat patiently as her mother made her living. Isaac could see the desperation in the child’s eyes that remained hidden from the people on the street. He looked hungry, cold, and without hope. Every couple of minutes, the boy’s mother would walk over and give him a kiss on his head. Isaac knew this was because she really loved her boy and felt terrible for the situation she’d put them in.

“Look at the bums,” J
ason said with contemp. “Get a job!”

Isaac felt mortified by the actions of his friend. “Dude shut up! You don’t know them. Haven’t you been listening to your dad? There are no jobs,” Isaac replied with as much compassion as a fifteen year old could muster. “Leave ‘
em alone.”

“I bet
they’re just lazy and want free shit from the rest of us,” Jason continued as he raised his voice so the desperate panhandlers could hear.

“Dude I’m leaving! You’re embarrassing and being rude,” Isaac said fighting the peer pressure of youth.

“Don’t be so lame. You know these parasites are wreckin’ the country,” Jason said becoming angry at Isaac’s stand. “Fine, let’s just go.”

As they walked down the busy urban street
, they became dazzled by the rainbow of neon. They moved forward like flies to fly paper, oblivious to the dangers in modern life.

“Let’s get some ice cream. All I’ve been eati
ng is fufu fish and vegi-trays. I neeeeeed sugar,” Jason complained.

They snuck into the busy café trying not to be noticed by the urban dwellers. Upon getting the
ir creamy treats the two boys sat down in the darkened room.

“Ah, frozen yogurt with fruit, sprinkles, and fudge. The world’s
crackin’ up but the treats almost make it worthwhile,” Jason said as he lapped up his desert.

“Sure looks like you’re
OK with it. Ya got it all over your chin, ya slob,” Isaac replied with mixed emotions of annoyance and admiration. “Don’t you care what you look like?”

Jason grabbed one of the napkins Isaac had taken and said, “Who cares, we don’t know any of these losers.”

They sat and ate, talking about past trips they’d been on and people they knew. In the small urban café they stuck out like farmers in a law office.

“Wait here, I want to get something for later. My mom never lets me get this stuff
. I want to sneak some back,” Isaac said trying to be like Jason. “I’ll be back in a second.”

As Isaac left to go to the counter, Jason sat and finished his frozen yogurt. Sipping the remaining bits he noticed the people in the café more closely.
The surroundings were busy and vibrant. It looked like a scene pulled directly from a Hollywood movie, but somehow it was different. The room was full – tables packed with strangers aligned in small groups, living and laughing together. Despite the company they shared, each individual seemed distracted and alone. Each interaction seemed shallow and nobody was engrossed in conversation. Every minute or two, Jason noticed everyone was looking away texting or surfing on their mobile devices. The room appeared surreal as the low light and candles were cheapened by glowing blue light coming from LCD screens that were concealed in everyone’s lap. The scene was ridiculous. These disconnected people looked like small children telling a horror stories with flashlights under their chins, but much more pitiful. Jason wondered to himself, who are all these people were talking to? Was there someplace they’d rather be?

“Alright let’s get out of here and head back. My mom’s
gonna be looking for me soon,” Isaac said holding a little white bag full of goodies.

As they walked back to the hotel, Jason couldn’t shake the image of the disconnected customers. All around him he saw people completely oblivious to the wonder of life as they slid their fingers across their mobile screens. He couldn’t quite figure out what he was feeling, but the image was seared into his sixteen year old mind.

“Wait here, I’ll be back in just a second,” Isaac said as he crossed the busy street.

“Where
ya going man? Your mom will be pissed if I come back without you,” Jason said still contemplating the disconnected people around him.

“I just got to do something. Just give me a second,” Isaac said as he jogged to market on the corner.

“Hey, I hope it’s OK. I don’t have any cash, but I got you something,” Isaac said as he handed the white bag to the young boy. “It’s just a couple muffins and a sandwich.”

Noticing that Isaac was talking to her son, the begging mom rush
ed to his side. “What’s this?” she said annoyed and leery.

“I just thought you guys may be hungry and wanted to help out
,” Isaac explained becoming nervous. “It’s nothing, just a sandwich.”

The mother softened by the gesture meekly replied, “Thank you.”

As Isaac walked away he locked eyes with the young boy as he stuffed his mouth full of processed flour and refined sugar. Isaac knew his small gesture had made an impact.

As Isaac walked into the lavish hotel room, his father was already back. The room was alive with activity. He could see in his father’s face that he had nailed the debate. Walking back and forth
, he relived the event for the people in the room.

“I can’t believe Senator
Damphy thought he could get away with that comment about federalism. We all know how people feel about government. It’s too damn big. It’s about local leadership solving local problems not bloated government programs telling us what we need from thousands of miles away,” Mr. Howard said with fire in his eyes. “I really had him running when I pointed out the spending… ahhh the spending, and what it’s doing to our economy. Trillions of dollars in debt, and all I got was this lousy t-shirt made in China.”

As Mr. Howard relived the debate, everyone was captivated by his animated gestures and inflecting voice. Mr. Howard continued, “And what’s the nonsense about immigration and illegals
coming to this country for handouts. Preposterous! It’s like these people have no clue when it comes to global events. It’s widely known that in 2003 the oil field Cantarell peaked, and now those poor souls are fleeing Mexico just to survive. What else can they do when their country’s oil production goes from 2.1 million barrels a day to 400,000 in less than a decade? That creates real economic and social problems. If it wasn’t for our Federal Reserve and the US dollar, we would have been in the same situation back when our oil production peaked in the early 70s.” The onlookers sat glued to the charismatic statesman as Isaac hung on his every word.

The campaign trailed burned on, as Isaac continued to be
a teenager. Winter came and passed as the rain storms and flowering trees ushered in the renewal of spring. On occasion Isaac would join his father on the trail while other times he’d stay home and be a normal child. His father worked hard sharing his ideals with people across the country, always packing rooms and bringing crowds to their feet. As Mr. Howard became more popular on the national scene, special interest groups began to take notice.

“Good afternoon
, Mr. Howard. Thanks for taking time from your busy schedule to meet with me today,” the man in the perfectly tailored suit said to Mr. Howard. “I’m looking forward to discussing the issues facing our country today.”

Isaac sat quietly in the attached room of t
he hotel suite watching an old Three Stooges episode.

“My name is Pastor
Dranias, but you can call me Sariel,” the well groomed man continued.

“Nice to meet you
Sariel, that’s an interesting name. Is it Aramaic?” Mr. Howard replied as he sat down next to the athletic man of God.

“I believe it’s Greek in origin. Bot
h my parents grew up in Mykonos but moved to the states when they were teenagers,” Sariel replied as he pulled out his fine leather planner.

“Well
, what can I do for you today?” Mr. Howard asked admiring Sariel’s beautiful Crockett & Jones dress shoes.

“I represent an association of believers who are working to restore morality and godliness to this great country,”
Sariel explained as he fidgeted in his chair.

“Y
es, the Center for Moral Reform. I’ve heard of your group. You guys do great work with community outreach,” Mr. Howard admitted as he relaxed and sat back in his chair. “I agree with what you guys are doing, but feel the approach is misguided. Morality and religious choice should be left up to the individual to decide. Haven’t you guys been very active in lobbying congress to enact legislation?”

“We have. Our approach is to intentionally guide the outcomes of national conversations regarding morality. We feel there are key areas where legislation is appropriate,”
Sariel explained as he pulled out assorted pamphlets and brochures on the CMR’s current activities.