by Bart Hopkins
“Sure,” Shapland said.
“I know he’s going to love it,” she finished.
“Outstanding,” he said, and glanced at his watch. “Well, I’ve got to run. The boys are probably done refueling our super shitter out on the flight line.”
Jason laughed at the confused look on Susan’s face.
“It’s a helicopter,” he told her, then turned to the general. “That’s awesome, sir. Riding a CH-53 across the country?”
Shapland laughed, rolled his shoulders, and flexed a little bit. He was a nice guy, and a general, but still a Marine at heart. “Oh, yeah. I still get to have some fun now and then.”
There was another round of shaking hands and he was gone as quickly as he’d come.
<<>>
“Okay, class, we’re going to wrap things up a little early today. Everyone put away your books.”
The students busied themselves with putting their things away. Mrs. Oswald saw Susan through the small window in the door and winked.
“Ready guys?” Susan asked.
Jason, the school principal, and Josh Porter were in the hallway outside of Danny’s classroom. Josh had an expensive-looking video camera on his shoulder. There was a quiet chorus of yesses from them.
Susan gave Mrs. Oswald a thumb’s up: we’re ready!
“Well, guys, we have a little surprise today for someone in the class.”
A few hands went up around the room, but a couple of the kids just called out, “Who?” or “What?”
“Hmm. Maybe this is actually a big surprise. I’ll let you all decide.” She walked over to the classroom door and opened it.
Josh ducked into the classroom and panned across the class with his video camera. Some of the kids furrowed their brows in confusion. Others laughed, not understanding, but thinking it was funny anyway. He waved at them and a lot of them waved back. He stalled a little bit on Danny, who was laughing, but clueless.
Then Josh turned his camera to the doorway, Jason’s cue to slowly enter the room.
There are things in life of such exquisite beauty that a perfect description is nearly impossible. People try, but usually fall short. Why? Perhaps the description is perfect, but not adequate, simply because some things transcend words.
Childbirth … first glimpse of the Grand Canyon in person … the power of love.
When Jason walked into the room, it was one of those moments, and the ensuing hush was because everyone could see it. Like catching a ghost on film. Rare. Magical. Special.
Josh went wide with the shot and included Daniel in the frame. His face went from confused to pure joy, zero to sixty, in about a second. Then he was running across the room.
“Dad! Dad, you’re back!”
“Hey, buddy!”
Jason bent down, hugged Danny tight, and tried not to fall over. He rubbed a hand through his son’s shaggy hair. Several teachers had gathered in the hallway, and as they watched the Donahue boys reunited with one another, someone started clapping, and everyone else joined them.
Chapter 35
The Color Run
Rose and her Amigas were packing up after a long day. Teeny had offered them overtime to clean two new offices that were added to the lineup.
At twice the pay … which was just fine with all of them!
She went back inside the building to grab some supplies they’d left in the hallway near the front of the newest office. It was a place she’d never heard of, something called HELP 101. She was humming to herself when a man entered the office.
“Ah, hello there!”
“Oh!” She nearly screamed.
“No need to be alarmed, it’s my office,” he said. She relaxed and smiled.
“Sorry, we’re just clearing out.”
“Please, take your time,” he told her. “What do you think of the name: HELP 101?”
“Think of it?” she asked. “I’m sorry. It sounds nice, but I’ve never heard of it.”
The man chuckled.
“We’re hoping to change that. Take a gander at our poster over there. Are you going to be off tomorrow morning?” He pointed to the poster nearby on the wall.
“Oh, wow, that’s beautiful,” she said. “I am going to be off, but my daughter is going to be in town tomorrow…”
“Well, bring her, too!”
“What’s a color run, is that like a 5K or something?”
“Close. I didn’t know either until my young friends told me about it. I’ll bet you that if you ask your daughter, she’ll know,” he said and chuckled again.
It was catchy—she laughed along with him.
“Okay,” she told him. “I’ll be there.”
“Wonderful! I’m Martin, and you were…”
“Rose.”
“Rose, a lovely name, for a lovely woman.”
She blushed.
“See you there, Rose.”
She grabbed everything and met Sara and Melinda at the van.
“Do you know what a color run is?” she asked, and within a few minutes, she’d been briefed.
“Why do you ask?”
“Well, I just found out about one tomorrow. You girls should come out,” she said. “You can meet my daughter.”
“Sure, Rose, sounds like fun!”
<<>>
“Hey, guys … wake up!” Nancy called through the door. Greg rolled over and peeked through his narrowly opened eyelids at the clock on his side of the bed…
The clock on his side of the bed!
He smiled to himself, instantly awake … thankful and happy … and rolled over and put his arms around Claire and pulled her close.
“I love you,” he whispered into her ear.
“I love you, too,” she replied.
The assault on Jennifer, while awful beyond imagination, had served to do something good. It healed the fracture between him and Claire. When he saved her best friend’s life, she’d wrapped her arms around him and forgiven him—given him another chance.
And he’d been serious when he’d told her he would spend the rest of his days loving her as strong as he could.
“How about I make us a light breakfast, then we can go visit Jennie before we head on over to the Professor’s race.” Their friend was recovering well, but still in the hospital.
She smiled sleepily at him, and his heart swelled to immense proportions.
“Sounds great, honey.”
<<>>
“How’s it going, Josh?”
Professor Lange and Zoe huddled near Josh on the stage set up at Zilker Botanical Gardens. Martin had chosen the spot as a romantic gesture to his wife; it did not go unnoticed. She was as pleased with him as ever; though really, there weren’t many times he had done something that bothered her. They were one of those rare couples who meshed in nearly every way, good-hearted, and friendly.
“Good, Professor. Your microphone is ready. All you need to do is flip this switch and talk.”
“Wonderful. Thank you.”
“No problem, Professor. And if anything goes wrong, I’ll be at the T-shirt tables with Nancy.” Josh had designed the shirts using the HELP 101 logo he’d created, and they were selling them to the new registrants.
“Splendid,” he said. He snapped open his pocket watch and checked the time. “Time to start the party!”
“Break a leg,” Josh told him, and ran off to join Nancy.
Martin stared out in awe at the large crowd that had gathered. They were here answering his call for “help”; the goodness of so many people amazed him. He guessed that there were a few thousand people present.
He saw Greg and his wife Claire in the very front, and smiled.
“Hey, Professor!” people from the crowd hollered in greeting, and he took the time to wave at them, recognizing former students and current students.
He went to Zoe, poked out his elbow, and offered her his arm in the old way. It was something he’d done since the beginning. She smiled, nodded, and put her hand in its place on
his forearm, and they walked over to the microphone together.
“Welcome to the First Annual HELP 101 Color Run!”
<<>>
“Hi, Claire!”
“Rose, it’s great to see you!”
The two hugged each other.
“This is my daughter, Mary Beth, her husband Tom, and my grandkids,” Rose said. Claire shook hands with a younger version of Rose, and then took the small hand of an even younger version of Rose named Chelsea. She noticed Rose was beaming and couldn’t recall ever having seen someone happier. Then she glanced at Greg and decided that, maybe, he was equally as happy as Rose.
“It’s really great to meet all of you,” she said to them. It was nice to finally meet Rose under normal circumstances.
Rose had come rushing into the apartment at the same time as the police that night. Claire figured that it was a sequence of events gone right that led to rescuing Jennifer; however, Rose’s quick thinking was the first link in the chain. Without her, who knows what that savage, Paul, would have done. But, thanks to Rose, he was facing decades in prison for attempted homicide, kidnapping, and numerous charges of assault … others had come forward since his arrest was broadcast on the news.
She looked up on stage as Professor Lange offered his arm to his wife, and walked to the microphone. They are just the sweetest couple, Claire thought to herself.
“Welcome to the First Annual HELP 101 Color Run!”
Claire clapped along with the rest of the crowd for Professor Lange. Beside her, Greg put his hands up to the sides of his mouth and made a noise that sounded like, “Ahhh-oooooohhhhh,” and she laughed.
<<>>
“Welcome, and thank you all so much for being here today,” he said. He took a quick drink from the water bottle that someone, probably Zoe, had left at the podium, then continued.
“Most of you know that it was only this year that I was declared a survivor. My bout with cancer took nearly three years, but this year it was found to be in remission. And I’m one of the lucky ones … because of people like you. At a time when we were financially and mentally pushed to our limits … you all came through for us.
“I recognize so many of your faces from those fundraisers. John Peterson! I see you out there. For those of you that don’t know him, he was the one who approached me after class one day to let me know about the coalition of people working together to come to my aid: Thank you, John. Somehow through clicks of the Like button, you all have raised awareness, and helped an old English professor.
“But I don’t want to talk about me. I only bring it up because it was the catalyst for this, the genesis of HELP 101.
“It’s an organization designed to help. People with health problems … victims of abuse … injured veterans. These are just a few of the people we want to help, and that you’re already helping by being here.”
The crowd applauded, and he took the opportunity to drink some more water before he went on.
“I have some friends here today that I want you to meet,” he said, and a family of three walked onto the stage. “This is Susan Donahue and her husband Jason and their son, Daniel. Susan is a nurse who works with my doctor and is just about the friendliest person ever.
“A few weeks ago, she received some alarming information. Jason’s convoy hit an improvised explosive device in Afghanistan,” he said. He looked around and the crowd was quiet. “Thankfully, Jason is fine, but it could have easily gone the other way. And if it had, I would hope someone would be there to help our veterans when they need it.
“HELP 101 is that someone that will be there. Jason—thank you for your service, for giving guys like me freedom. We’ve got a little something for you…” Martin grabbed a large poster board from nearby and turned it around, revealing an oversized check. “I hear that Danny wants a dog, and we have five thousand dollars here for you guys … to maybe get that canine, and to help out as you work through rehabilitation.”
The crowd roared its approval while Martin and Zoe shook hands and exchanged hugs with the Donahue family.
“My younger friends out there came up with the idea of an annual color run to kick this off. I’m old,” he laughed. “I didn’t even know what a color run was, but when they told me about it, it just felt perfect. My friends Greg Thomas and Josh Porter got HELP 101 and this color run advertised and going on Facebook. The last time I looked, we had over ten thousand Likes and we had over three thousand people pre-register for today!”
The crowd hooted and cheered. Puffs of color exploded here and there like powdery fireworks in the crowd, and he waited for them to calm down before he continued.
“You’ve all inspired me … I’m going to wear some of those long striped socks I see on some of you, to the run next year,” Martin said to smatterings of laughter.
“And a tutu!”
Martin looked out and saw a rowdy group of guys in UT hats, Greek t-shirts, and sunglasses. They were all wearing tutus.
“A tutu?” he asked them, rubbing his chin, thoughtful.
“Yeah!” one guy shouted.
“Woooooo!” came from another.
“Hmm. All right, I’ll make you all a deal. If we can get to one hundred thousand likes before the run next year … I’ll be right next to you in a tutu!”
People roared their approval of Martin. Once again, he waited for the roar to subside.
“We’ve got five kilometers for you to run, or to walk. Talk to your friends or make a grocery list. It’s up to you. When I blow the air horn, start moving. There are no prizes we’ll give out here, except people waiting to slather you with different colors every half-kilometer. No, the real prize is knowing you’ve helped your fellow man.”
He looked out at the crowd and his eyes misted over. He saw the Thomas family and the Donahues … Rose Murray, who he’d only just met. Students. Nancy and Josh, who both waved at him, and gave him a thumbs-up.
“Okay. Ready? Set? Go!” he called through the microphone and laid on the air horn … a long, throaty blast: BWWEERRRRRRRRRR! Color exploded all around as a sea of happy bodies crossed the start line. He felt the promise, the inherent goodness of people—of humanity!—wrap around him like a warm blanket in the cold of winter.
And he Liked it…
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I am compelled to believe that every book is a labor of love for its author. However, no writer worth his or her salt does it alone.
The Like journey began in January 2013 when, for reasons unremembered, my wife and I had a series of discussions on the ubiquitous presence of social media. Those talks were the genesis of this novel. I am eternally grateful to her for stimulating my creativity and being my partner in all things in this life.
As it turns out, we were only skipping rocks along the surface of an ocean regarding social media usage. I discovered an article in the Huffington Post called “100 Fascinating Social Media Statistics and Figures From 2012” and it really put things in perspective for me. My thanks to the author, Brian Honigman, for both his expertise and insight, and for granting me permission to reprint statistics that blow the mind and have, no doubt, only grown in number.
A mighty thanks to my dad for being my go-to guy for discourse on the craft. Our dialogue is always appreciated, and I’m better for it.
Somewhere along the way, the layout of the story changed; that was inspired by the movie Crash.
To the friends and beta readers that gave me feedback prior to publication: I couldn’t have done it without your help.
Thanks to Bryan Miller for proofreading everything in this book except this sentence, which was added later. His work is impeccable, and any remaining errors are mine.
Finally, thanks to the readers … you keep me going.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Bart Hopkins is originally from Galveston, Texas, but has lived in Mississippi, Louisiana, Tennessee, Kentucky, South Carolina, South Korea, and Germany during his 22 years in the Air Force.
He was born in
the middle of the 1970s, and owned an Atari 2600 and a Vectrex.
Bart’s passions include reading, traveling, photography, writing, and sharing time with his beautiful wife and three awesome kids.
Connect with Bart
FACEBOOK
TWITTER
BLOG
Leave a Review for LIKE
Amazon
Goodreads