There is comfort in absolute belief. It fills the hole that exists inside every human being, the void, the emptiness, the whisper in our ears that says we are small, insignificant, and alone. Given my less than ideal home life, I guess it is no wonder that my hole was bigger than most.
I tried to fill my hole in the usual ways. As a boy I tried God, went to church, tried hard to feel the divine love that everyone around me was rejoicing in. Didn't have much luck with that. I figured, sure there was a God, but He sure as hell wasn't planning on helping me out any time soon. Later, after high school graduation, I tried the army. The training was easier than it ought to have been. Natural born soldier, that was me. I saw plenty of action, fought for my country, even earned a medal or two. In the end though, I never caught the patriotic zeal. I saw only too clearly that the blood being spilt in sand wasn't for any cause other than money and power. Eventually I deserted, dropped of the grid, or so I thought. That was when they found me, the ex-soldier who'd sooner wipe his ass with the flag than salute it.
I didn't know it at the time, but I had been chosen. I'll never forget the first time I woke up in that hotel. Like those who had come before me I tried escape. I cursed, screamed, fought. They pushed me to the limit and then pushed some more. I made it through, rode it out to the end. Not everyone did.
Finally the answers came. I had passed the initiation and I could take me place among the ranks of the organization. And it was what I'd always wanted. Something more tangible than the vague promise of religion. Something above the corruption of government. Its reach was infinite and its goal noble. It was enough to finally make me a believer. Those who'd failed were regrettable losses, but what good is ever achieved without some sacrifice, some collateral damage. One of the few lessons I retained from my army days.
It was then my training began. They told me my exceptional performance during my own testing made me an ideal choice to assist with the next batch of recruits. Refusal never even crossed my mind. I was more than willing to return to town I previously sworn to burn to the ground. They told me the task of a moderator wasn't an easy one. It would be my responsibility to guide the potentials through the gauntlet, keep them under control, while allowing the process to run its course. The main rule: Don't get involved. I figured, how hard could it be? I already lived my life at a distance from other people. I never really counted on Janet.
It's hard to pinpoint when it started, maybe that first night when she stared at the rest of the group gorging on Chinese, too preoccupied with her daughter's safety to be able to eat. Maybe it was the following day, the day she'd ran heedless of all caution, straight into the pain field, the day I'd heard her beg for her daughter's safety, when I'd touched her face to access the damage this place had already done to her. Maybe it was the day she'd chosen to forgo her shot at freedom in order to spare a stranger's life. My life. Soon it seemed any spare second I had I found myself with her. I rationalized I was just putting in time where it was due, after all, wasn't she being pushed harder than the others? Didn't she need to be controlled more than they did? These were lies of course. The truth was I was drawn to her. I still don't know if it was her softness or her strength that did it. Her love for her daughter or her determination to survive. If I had to guess it was probably the combination that struck a chord within me.
The danger didn't really hit me until I was out on that cabin's porch and she asked me if after all this was over, if I like to meet her daughter. She trusted me enough for me than she was willing to give me access to the softest and most treasured part of herself. It was a beautiful gesture and also never going to happen. Whether or not Janet passed the initiation I would never see her again. Even if accepted the organization as I had, she's never forgive me for deceiving her. The hole inside me ached for the first time since I became a believer. I pushed the pain away and instead focused on Janet's voice as she told me about her daughter and then about pointed out the constellations in the sky. I let myself imagine a world where I could sit on a porch with this woman with no secrets between us, no danger laying in wait, and no one watching. It was a beautiful dream. Of course reality set in with a vengeance the next day.
Bees, cold, and then the road that lead us right back to where we started. I did my job, I got her back inside the town, invoking Meghan's name and giving her my word I would see her through this hell. That night she asked me to stay. As if my presence was a comfort, like I made her feel safe. If she only knew.
I stayed up long after Janet had drifted off into an uneasy sleep. What had happened? Where had I gone wrong? I went to Tom, demanding answers, begging him to give me something, anything. Maybe if I could just assure myself that Janet would pass, that she would chosen, I could live with the deceit, I could handle the evitable moment when she learned the truth and spat in my face.
It was then that Tom asked me if I still believed. I told Tom, "Yes," but in my heart it was no longer true. My belief, so long in coming, had been comprised. I had doubts.