The Hope Store

by Dwight Okita

  "Well, I think if God were here today at this meeting...He'd give The Hope Store His blessings. I figure God's pretty busy so he'd appreciate the help." There is some cross-talk in the audience. "I disagree with those who've attacked The Hope Store and say the store is trying to replace God. I think they're both trying to accomplish the same thing."

  An older man's voice shouts out from the balcony. "Since when do you speak on behalf of God? Where do you get off--"

  A young woman shouts from the main floor seats, "Oh give me a friggin' break. Have you ever been hopeless yourself, dude?"

  “The future’s coming, people. Get out of the damned way!” the young woman shouts back.

  Andrew intervenes. "I'd appreciate it if people did not speak out of turn or we're going to be here all night. Or security will have to remove you. So you were saying, Tom, that there is not a conflict between your religious views and The Hope Store?"

  "No, sir. I don’t think you can have too much of a good thing, do you?"

  "Thank you for sharing," says the moderator. "Next we have Mimi Raines, a dissatisfied customer of the store."

  The woman shyly approaches the microphone. She taps on the mic to make sure it's working. There is a thud. "Hi, I am a former customer of The Hope Store. I was terribly disappointed with my results. I did feel some bursts of hope and that was encouraging. But the goals that I hoped about did not come true. When I demanded my money back, The Hope Store refused to give me a refund."

  Kazu is first to speak. "I'd like to respond to that. First, I'm sorry that you did not have a good experience at The Hope Store. I remember your case very well, Mimi. I think it's important to clarify that having hope does not guarantee you will achieve your goals. That's still up to you. Hope is the excitement of believing that you can achieve your goals. But the rest is up to you."

  "I still want my money back,” she says.

  Andrew looks at his list. "The next question comes from Madrid Martinez. This should be interesting. Mr. Martinez is a very satisfied customer of The Hope Store. Welcome, sir."

  The tall, dark and handsome Latino man approaches the microphone. He wears a black vest adorned with golden cherubs. "Thank you for taking my question tonight. In Spanish, The Hope Store translates as tienda de esperanza or the store of hope. For me, the store has lived up to its name. I am what is known in the hope industry as a 'good responder.' That means my hope levels have been through the roof, and I've had very few side effects." Madrid's eyes water for a moment and he appears to wipe away a tear.

  "I wish you all knew me…a year ago. Hell, I wish you knew me a week ago. I'm changing every day! Having this new hope inside me, it goes beyond what you measure on a bar chart, it even goes beyond the job promotion I got at work last month. I used to wake up on a Monday morning absolutely dreading my factory job, but now a small voice inside me says, 'You can do this, Madrid. You've got this.' And I love how my friends who don't know about my hope installation say, 'Madrid, what's different about you? Did you lose weight? Did you get your hair cut? Are you in love?' Yeah, I'm in love all right. I'm in love with my life. I owe a lot of that to The Hope Store. If you've never been hopeless, I don't expect you to really understand how big this is. But other hope-challenged folks, you know what I'm talking about, 'cause we're part of the same tribe. So I guess my question is: why does the store have so many haters? I don't get that."

  "I'd like to address that one if I may," says Blair. "First, I think the benefits you've gotten from this store indeed sound amazing. And I hope every customer who gets a hope installation gets terrific results as well. I really do." Blair smiles at Kazu and I. "I think some folks are just concerned that we should move a little slower, a little more cautiously when it comes to tricking the human brain. If I'm not mistaken, the next person on our audience list will deal head-on with this subject."

  Andrew looks at his netbook. “Our next question comes from Robert Chang, who is with Natural Hopers United.”

  "Yes, this question is for Kazu Mori,” starts Chang. “Isn’t it true that during the clinical trials two of your subjects killed themselves after their hope installations? And if this is correct, how can you in good conscience provide a treatment to the public that can result in death?"

  Kazu’s face fills the TV monitors throughout the auditorium. I find myself, along with the rest of the TV audience, searching Kazu Mori’s face for the answer.

  LUKE

  38. LOOSE CANNONS

  Andrew Konstant jumps in because it is live TV after all. “Kazu, how do you respond to that question?”

  "Out of respect for the privacy of the volunteers in our research study, I don’t think it’s appropriate to comment," says Kazu. I can see Chartreuse waiting in the wings. She is pacing back and forth.

  Chang continues, "Let me be clear, I’m not asking whether suicidal thoughts and actions are a possible side effect of the hope treatment. That’s clearly listed as one of the side effects on the release form that customers sign before treatment --"

  “Possible side effects,” Kazu says.

  “Excuse me?” says Chang.

  “It’s a list of possible side effects,” Kazu says. “It’s very rare that customers will actually experience them. Less than 3%.” He takes a sip of water. “And if I thought the treatment was dangerous, I promise you my partner and I would not have gotten hope installations ourselves. Which we have.”

  "I would also like the chance to ask a question of the Natural Hopers if I may," I say. You present your group, Mr. Chang, as a consumer advocate group concerned about the dangers of hope installation. And you want to raise awareness of natural ways to increase hope, is that right?"

  "Yes, basically."

  "You propose three things to access hope naturally: herbal remedies, physical exercise to stimulate endorphins, and cognitive therapy," I say. "But isn't it also true that you are funded by Nature's Way Herbals and Work Out World health clubs, and that you sit on the board of the Cognitive Behavior Therapists of Illinois?"

  There is a stirring in the auditorium. Whispers. My point is well-received.

  "Well, I don't recall it being a crime to volunteer to sit on a board, or to have donors to a cause," Chang says.

  "Not a crime, but a conflict of interests," Kazu says. I can see people nodding.

  "None of that changes my belief that there are safer, more natural ways to increase hope in people. Your list of possible side effects still includes mania, sleepwalking, liver failure, stroke, thoughts of suicide, and even death." Then Chang looks straight into the camera. “That’s quite a list of nasty side effects. I don’t think I’d want my wife to get a hope installation.” He laughs.

  “You might if your wife was hope-starved!” says a strong female voice from the main floor. I look over to see who is at the microphone stand.

  It’s Jada.

  “And anyways, that would be her decision, not yours, wouldn't it, Mr. Chang?" Jada pauses dramatically for a moment. "Andrew, I'd like to speak if I could. I believe I am next on the list. My name is Jada Upshaw.”

  Andrew does a double-take at his guest list. He looks from one page to the next. Finally he says, “Yes, that’s right. Jada Upshaw is next.” Now I know for a fact that Jada is not on that list because I have that list in front of me. But I had talked about her at length to Andrew. I'm glad he's decided to play along. “Jada is a customer of The Hope Store who’s had a very…unique response to treatment,” he says.

  Blair leans into the microphone. “I’ve interviewed Ms. Upshaw and know that she has also endured many debilitating side effects from her hope treatment.”

  “Thank you, Blair, but I’m quite capable of speaking for myself,” she says.

  “Jada, could you start by telling us why you turned to such an experimental procedure in the first place,” says Andrew.

  “Well, let me give the audience some background first. I’ve lived with hopelessness my whole life. I’ve not been helped by medication, exercise, therapy,
or homeopathic remedies, thank you very much." She shoots a look at the Natural Hoper. "I’ve remained hopeless in spite of the love of my boyfriend and my family. I was born with a condition called desina sperara. It means I was born without the breath of hope."

  Kazu and I turn to look at each other.

  "When I first came to the store, I lied on the screening questionnaire. I said I didn't have that condition. The form clearly warned me that some clinical trial volunteers with desina sperara had very traumatic reactions to their hope installations. But I didn't want to be disqualified as a customer."

  Kazu whispers into my ear.

  "But to be perfectly frank, when I came to the store – I wasn’t looking for hope. I was looking for revenge.” I glance at Kazu’s face and he looks worried.

  “I’m confused,” says Andrew. “Why revenge?”

  “I was angry at all the people who dangled miracle cures in front of me, took my money, and dashed my hopes. And for full disclosure, I should share that I approached Blair Matters here to write an exposé on The Hope Store.” The audience gasps collectively. Blair is turning pink. “But a funny thing happened on the way to The Hope Store. I found hope. Like Madrid here, I've had some amazing results, but I've had side effects too.”

  I turn to the moderator. "Andrew, Jada's story is rich and complicated. Would it be all right if she came up onstage?"

  "Well…I don't want to put her on the spot," he says.

  "I thought you'd never ask," Jada says, navigating her way through the auditorium. An usher helps her up the stairs to the stage. She takes a seat. "If I knew I was going to be on TV, I would've had my hair done at Van Cleefs." Some women in the audience chuckle.

  "You look beautiful, Jada. Welcome," says Andrew, ever the charmer.

  Blair is about to swallow his microphone. “Why don’t we cut to the chase, Jada? You had some great results, but you had terrible side effects too -- sleepwalking and hallucinations, probably mania. And then you had a "hope extraction" on top of it. Care to comment?”

  “I don’t know if you, or anyone who has not lived a hopeless life, can understand this. Well, how could you?” Jada says. This self-assured Jada is not the stuttering woman I first encountered in my office on that October morning. “Thanks to The Hope Store, for the first time I've been able to get a glimpse of what a hope-driven life would look like. And now that I've seen that, I can't un-see it. Do you know what I mean?" She pauses. She looks into the audience. They seem to be on her side. "Wow, there are a lot of people here tonight."

  “And how did you manage to deal with the side effects?” says Blair.

  “My boyfriend Otis stays with me now and then, and most nights I just don’t sleep at all. One night he took a hammer and nailed the sliding glass doors shut so I don’t sleepwalk off my balcony.” The audience laughs. “So I manage. I make do. And when all else fails in the wee hours of the night, I have something I’ve never had before. I have the memory of what a hope-driven life can be. And I owe that to The Hope Store.” She locks eyes with Luke and Kazu.

  "So what is it, Jada, that you found most problematic in your treatment? I know it’s not been a walk in the park," Blair says.

  "There is one drawback to the hope installation. And it's a big one."

  The ears of the audience are trained on Jada. I fidget nervously with my papers because I have no idea where Jada is going with this. Please, Jada, whatever you say...don't bring up your suicide attempts. Don't bring up your doppelgangers.

  Kazu looks at me. His Japanese eyebrows arch with concern. "Do you know what she’s going to say?” he whispers.

  “Not a clue,” I whisper back. Under the table, I rub Kazu’s knee.

  The CNN cameras zoom in closer on Jada's expressive face.

  "Here's what they don't tell you…maybe because they can't. But once you have that new hope inside you... you realize you have no excuses anymore. And that's scary because there's no one to blame. There's just you...and your own blinding potential. Along with your fears. A hope installation doesn't make you Superwoman. You still have to make things happen. You still have to do the work to make your dreams come true."

  Both of us breathe a sigh of relief.

  “Jada, I’m so glad you chose to share your story with us,” says Andrew Konstant.

  “Oh, one more thing,” she says. I can hear emotion building in Jada’s voice and I’m worried she’s headed for a meltdown. “You people who want to shut down The Hope Store, the Natural Hopers and the skeptics…I don’t know what world you live in, but the world I live in is not black and white. It’s a million shades of gray. This store was never invented for you. It was invented for people like me. So with all due respect, you really should mind your own business, and leave The Hope Store for those who can benefit from it. The store may never save your life, but it may save the life of someone you love. That’s all I wanted to say today.” She hands the mic back to an usher. There is a spontaneous eruption of applause in the audience.

  “Jada, I think love is an excellent place to end our town hall meeting on hope,” gushes Andrew. Now he looks straight into the camera. His face appears on all screens. “We’ve just scratched the surface on the subject tonight. New breakthroughs in science happen every day. What would you do if you were hope-challenged? Would you live a life of quiet desperation? Would you take a yoga class? Or would you take a leap of faith into uncharted territory? I’m Andrew Konstant for CNN. This has been A Town Hall Meeting on Hope. Good night and happy holidays.” The audience claps as the stage lights fade to black.

  "That was terrific, really great," says Andrew. He looks at Jada and gives her a thumbs-up. The video screens cut to a commercial.

  Jada stands up and rubs her forehead for a moment. She looks shaky like she might faint.

  I run up to steady her, just in time.

  JADA

  39. A PARALLEL GIRL

  After the town hall meeting, we all go out for a late dinner at Maggiano's. I apologize to everyone for almost fainting. I thank the universe I didn't collapse on live TV, tell folks I was light-headed because I hadn't eaten much during the day. But the truth is I don't know why I fainted. Could it be a side effect? What exactly is happening to me?

  Everyone is congratulating me on my spontaneous remarks. Around the dinner table, people debate whether the viewers of the town hall will be more inclined to have a positive or negative view of The Hope Store. Did the Natural Hopers and Blair Matters cast sufficient doubt on the safety of hope installations? It's hard to say. The public is very fickle about things like this.

  All I know is tonight I feel special. The last time I felt this special was when I took first place at the science fair for my diorama on the Great Chicago Fire. After dinner, I stay with Otis. I'm exhausted so Otis and I climb into bed. Still, we talk in the dark for about an hour because we're still wound up from the town hall.

  In the middle of the night, I awaken and look at the clock: it’s 3 a.m. When I roll over, I see Jada2 staring back at me with a big grin on her face. Where's Otis?

  “Did you miss me?” she asks.

  “I did actually. I didn’t know if I’d see you again,” I say. “Especially after the hope extraction.”

  “I caught your speech at the town hall meeting. Tres eloquent, girlfriend.”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” I say. “I just wanted to speak up on behalf of the Enhanced Hopers. And give the Natural Hopers a run for their money.”

  “You know, I came back to ask you a favor,” she says. “I was thinking about you. I saw something in your future that worried me.” A snow globe appears in her hand. “See that girl inside the globe? That’s you.” It does look a lot like me. This African American woman in blue green pajamas. “She’s at a crossroads. She can give up…or she can carry on.”

  “I’ve been at that crossroads many times before,” I say.

  “So here's the favor -- don't give up. Carry on, will ya,” says Jada2. “Do not pass go. Do not collect $200.
Just keep on going.”

  “I’m not sure if I can make that promise, Jada2. I’m on shaky ground these days.”

  “I see. Shall I throw a pity party for you?”

  “What?”

  “Let me tell you a secret,” she says. “You like secrets, don’t you? See, half the battle of hoping is just refusing to give up…till you get what you want. It’s not talent or luck or good genes so much as tenacity. That's the secret."

  “Really?” I say.

  “I hope to see you on the other side. Keep hope alive, Jada, by hook or by crook. If the technology is lagging, don’t let your hope be dragging!”

  I don't want Jada2 to leave yet. I have more questions for her. But I can't make her stay.

  "Oh, and grow some balls. I did," she says with a smile. Then she unsnaps her pajama bottoms and lets them fall to the floor.

  Jada2 has a penis.

  And before I can say another word, she's gone. But Otis has returned.

  "Otis," I say. He's deep asleep but I try to summon him. "I'm sorry for waking you…."

  At first, he just mumbles something unintelligible. Finally, he opens one eye. "Are you having a nightmare?"

  I throw my arms around him. I am not a hugger. I don't really like people touching me or touching other people. "Anything wrong?" he asks.

  I say nothing. I just keep holding onto him so I don't fly away. So I don't turn into confetti or grow a penis like The Girl From My Parallel World.

  "I don't know what's going to happen to me. I wrote a note, just to have it for a rainy day." I reach into my bag and pull out the paper. I hand it to Otis.

  He takes the letter and begins reading.

  Dear Otis,

  It's time. I always told you we were on borrowed time, didn't I?

  Thank you for loving me in spite of my shortcomings. And thank you for letting me love you in my own imperfect way. I know you don't believe in heaven or an afterlife, so I'll just say good-bye forever, Dear Heart. Have a great life.