She smoothed her tie over her shirt once more as she entered the elevator. Today was big. She needed this. As the elevator rose through the floors she practiced her speech one last time. Opening, middle and closing. She had little trouble memorizing it as the bulk of it contained the bulk of her story. Rough childhood. In the system before she could walk. Passed around foster homes since she could remember, aimless, causing damage to herself and others. She was written off as a lost cause.
Then something changed. Someone gave a damn about her and showed her she could do more and be more than another casualty of the system. She put her head in the books and graduated early, with a great SAT score and before she was old enough to drink she had enlisted. She went straight to West Point, graduated, did her time and started serving as a second lieutenant. She rose through the ranks, becoming a captain, and served seven years, well on her way to being promoted to Major, when disaster struck.
She was running a special mortar training seminar while mentoring a Lieutenant. There was a scuffle between two corporals who just found out they'd been dating the same woman, and she sent her Lieutenant to sort it out. The lieutenant was new and had gotten their start through nepotism. They had no idea how to settle a fight and instead wound up getting caught up between the dueling corporals. This set him into a panic, and had him reaching for his gun, and when she pushed through the commotion she got shot in the shoulder.
The bullet went through and the next one pierced one of the corporals in the eye. He managed to survive but he had to get his eye removed and a glass eye replacement.
They were all discharged. The military wanted to wash its hands clean of the whole mess. The moment they could walk they were punted out the door and unceremoniously kicked out. Years of academy training, wasted.
She struggled to find a job after that. She had previously been living in military housing and the moment she lost her job she was left homeless. She had no relatives to turn to, and would have been churned out on the streets if it wasn't for the intervention of lieutenant colonel, Wayne Fields, and his family, putting her up at the farm, and helping her get a job working for the CIA.
The corporals however were not as lucky. The one-eyed corporal ended up getting addicted to painkillers, and the other has been having trouble holding down a job. Her lieutenant was alienated from his family, and committed suicide as a result, and at his funeral, the two corporals got wasted and ended up in a car accident. That was the last she heard of them.
Although at first she held some hard feelings towards these men, by this point she had grown to pity them. No man or woman who had served their country as they did deserved to end up like that. And while her new job may be cushy and well-paying, it still wasn't the career trajectory she intended for herself. And had it not been for Wayne Fields and his amazing family, lord knows she could be lying in a coffin right now too.
"This is why I came to you today. Not for myself, but for others who've been forced into circumstances like these. Veterans -especially disabled veterans- have given so much for our country, and it's time that we give a little back." she finished, to some applause.
"What exactly do you want?"
"We don't want a handout. We just want consideration. Jobs. Our men and women have first hand on-the-field experience. They're capable and skilled and loyal."
"What you're suggesting is noble, but the cost of training alone would offset any benefit there is to hiring your people."
"These people have years of training under their belts! Weapons, strategic, hand-to-hand. They're well-oiled defensive machines that can neutralize any threat from great to small. They know how to work in teams or alone, and any one of them could be an amazing asset for you. But you don't have to take my word for it. I've included letters of commendation from some of our past employers. From mall security to the mosque on Eid, our people have secured -with little to no incident- and protected hundreds of people all across the West Coast. If we work together, you could expand your business and we could help veterans find gainful employment all across the Eastern seaboard. So what do you say?"
"I must admit, I'm tempted. I'll go over this with my people but it looks like a yes from me."
"Thank you, sir. You wont regret this."
If you'd told child Paige she'd be volunteering her free time to secure jobs for veterans while working for the CIA, she'd ask you what you smoked. If you told teen Paige she'd be dating an amazing woman, and she'd more or less have a family and friends, she'd probably roll her eyes and accuse you of trying to stir her up. Even the Paige she was a year ago would have scoffed at this information. She'd always been a realist. And yet here she was, living a life she never would've dared to dream for herself.
And what started it? What got the ball rolling? What was the initial push that made the dominos in her life start to fall in this particular shape or form? Was it fate or luck? Neither. It was a loaf of bread.
August 12th, 2010
"Paige McCullers!" yelled the disgruntled voice. She heard footsteps getting closer and knew better than to be in her room when they reached her door so she bailed out the window. She hadn't undressed when she got home from school, expecting this exact same thing. So when she heard the front door slam she grabbed her backpack off the floor of her room and threw it out the window before quickly following it. She barely cleared the landing before she felt an ashtray whiz past her.
"GET YOUR STUPID ASS BACK HERE!" The voice yelled. "A D IN BIOLOGY? YOU KNOW THEY'LL CUT MY PAY IF YOU FUCK UP AT SCHOOL! GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE BEFORE I BEAT IT OFF OF YOU!"
She turned around and flippantly stuck her middle finger out at her foster dad. "GO FUCK YOURSELF!" she yelled as she ran off towards town, nothing but a rucksack full of homework and an extra pair of socks on her person.
She first stopped off at the library. She'd known from experience that it was quiet and climate controlled and no-one would really bother her there. She hopped onto one of the library computers and emailed her case-worker again. Titled it "Dude threatened to beat my ass off. Is this really the best you can do for me, Shelley?" and sent it off. She'd replied to the emails from her old friends; the odd kid in the system she bonded with before either one of them was moved around. "Same old shit. Still alive though." Then she settled in with one of her prescribed books.
She didn't get to stay long before her stomach started rumbling. She hadn't had breakfast, or lunch, and by the time she got 'home', there was really nothing to have for dinner. Denice usually came in and cooked around five or six, but if she came home to eat, either she'd take a beating or Denice would get herself hurt by trying to protect Paige. She really didn't want that on her conscience again so she decided to roam the streets and see what she could find.
Dumpster diving was a last resort. Bins behind restaurants and food joints seemed promising but there were risks associated with that sort of thing. She could try her hand at robbing people but she'd never been quite nimble enough -something to do with nerves- to pick somebody's pocket. As if by fate, she passed by a bakery that was closing down for the day, and as fate would have it there were a few loaves of bread up on the counter, and the baker's head was turned as she passed by.
She nicked a loaf and slid it under her jacket, quickening her pace as she tried to turn into the closest alleyway. The baker hadn't noticed her but another man did. He was tall and fit and he grabbed her -instinctively- by the arm and shoved her into the alley.
She looked up at him with fear in her eyes, certain that she'd been caught. He looked down and for a moment he froze. It was just enough for her to wrench her arm out of his grip and try to make a run for it. He grabbed her of course, and pushed her against the wall before she managed to turn away from him.
"You listen here! You either bring that bread back and apologize or I'll cart you straight to jail."
"Leave me alone!"
"I gave you two options. That wasn't one of them. You took something that doesn't belong to you. Now how are you going to pay for it?"
"Fuck, just take the stupid thing. It's more trouble than it's worth."
"It's not mine to take. You took it, so YOU give it back."
"Alright. Crap."
The man loosened his grip on her shoulders but kept a hand on one. She walked back to the bakery and placed the bread loaf back on the display shelf. She apologized for taking it, a mixture of bashfulness and anger, as the baker reprimanded her for taking her stuff. She threatened to call the police but the man told her he'd take care of it. It was at this point that she took in his uniform. This man was a proper G.I. Joe!
He asked her where she lived and she begrudgingly gave him her address, and just when she thought it was over, he added injury to insult by escorting her all the way to her foster dad's place.
She cursed when the soldier followed her all the way up the stairs to the apartment. She mentally prepared herself for the berating and abuse by shutting herself down. By the time she reached that door she was an unresponsive husk. Brian opened it up, and yanked her in, slamming the door in the soldier's face. She might have laughed if she didn't know exactly what would come.
The door wasn't even shut when he yanked the belt off his pants and started throttling her with it. She bolted into her room and tried to slam the door shut but he was right behind her and he pushed his boot into the sliver of an opening. He wailed on her and would've kept on punching and kicking and whipping her with his belt had the door not been smashed open by the soldier guy.
She was no stranger to this kind of thing but he had beaten her so bad that night that she had all but passed out. The moment she saw the soldier tower over Brian she whimpered a little, afraid of what was to come, but instead of fists bearing down on her she felt the soldier's calloused hands gently help her to her feet.
He tried to call up the police but they never bothered with this neighborhood so he decided enough was enough. He grabbed her bag, threw it over his shoulder and helped her walk over to the stairs. She nearly collapsed so he wrapped an arm around her waist and together they hobbled over to the subway station.
Wayne Fields, his name was. She found this key piece of information out when she woke up in the subway and found his name tag on his jacket. She'd fallen asleep and her neck lolled over and now her head was drooling on his shoulder. He was going to take her to children's services but he'd found out when he called them on the phone that they were closed for the weekend. He had no choice but to bring her to his own place.
It was this place just outside the city. Small but cozy. White picket fence. Dream-like. He had driven the rest of the way and she'd nodded off again in the backseat of the car. She woke up hours later in a single bed. She didn't know where she was, but it looked just like a normal bedroom. The lights were off, and the door was open a crack. She could see light in the hallway and hear a couple voices whisper shouting.
"I couldn't just leave her there! He'd beat her to death!"
"I understand, but what I don't get is why you brought her here!"
"CPS was closed. I couldn't just leave her in some shelter-"
"So you bring her here? Who knows what kind of trouble she's bringing into this house!"
"I know, it's not ideal. I'll contact CPS first thing on Monday."
"And what do we do until then? What do I tell Emily? Oh god, where is she gonna sleep?"
"She doesn't have to share, she can take the couch for the night. It will be alright."
"Yeah until we wake up to find she's robbed us blind, or worse."
"Pam!"
She couldn't hear anymore. She wanted out. She tried to get up and leave but the room started spinning as she did and before she knew she passed out onto the bed again.
The next time she woke up she remembered feeling warm. Very warm. She started kicking the blanket off when she heard a muffled grunt. She opened one eye -the other had swollen shut- and looked off into the darkness. She saw a pile of blankets covering what appeared to be a lump of bread. Brian must've done a number on her if she's fantasizing about massive bread loaves, she thought. She reached out and felt some skin and nearly fell off the bed when she realized she wasn't sleeping alone.
The other person sniffed and huddled closer, tenderly wrapping an arm around her waist. She tried to shuffle out of bed to no avail. She even tried sliding downwards but every time she moved, the other body shoved a little closer until they were almost completely on top of her. She supposed she shouldn't complain. This wasn't exactly her own bed, and whatever shampoo this... girl was using smelt wonderful. Like berries or peaches...
She fell asleep dreaming of summer fruits and woke up to someone gently dabbing at her facial wounds with something. She realized she was being tended to by the soldier's wife, presumably. She was so young however... wait, no, this was a girl her own age. She was dabbing cotton buds full of clean water all over the welts on her face while making an adorable scrunched up, concentrating face of her own. She was so caught up in what she was doing she didn't even notice her subject had woken up.
"Hi." Paige tried to break the ice.
"Don't move a muscle. Unless you want me to poke you in the eye."
"M'kay." She mumbled. "And thanks." she continued after a while.
"No problem. Did you get the number of that truck though?"
"What truck?"
"The one that backed over your face."
"Har har." Paige scoffed.
"Tell me you got a few good hits in at least."
"I wish I could. I was caught off guard though."
"How many? Ten? Twelve puppies?"
"You should be a comedian." Paige laughed.
"Aiming for doctor or nurse. Maybe a physical therapist. Depends."
"On what."
"The uniform. Not really sure which one I'd rather wear."
"You should reconsider the comedian thing."
"And miss out on patching up my favorite patient?"
"My name is Paige." She blushed.
"Well, Paige, you're looking good as new...well, good as a newly hatched alien baby. Not gonna lie, dude did a number on you."
"Yeah. I figured as much. Thanks anyway..."
"Emily." she smiled.
"Emily." she smiled back.