Chapter Three
It took about 2 hours to get everything done. It turned out that the pipes were so rusted that a few holes had begun to show up. Milo knew the best he could do was take some strips of gauze and duct tape them over the affected areas. He also noticed the grease trap was clogged.
Later, when Milo was finished bandaging the pipes, cleaning all the black gunk out of the grease trap, and mopping the floor, he not only was in desperate need of bath but in desperate need of sleep as well. He was exhausted from playing Mr. Fix-it, especially since he had to continue his work at home. He trudged tiredly to the bathroom, and filled the tub. After getting out of his soggy, black-spotted clothes, he allowed himself to slowly sink into the steaming water. The bath was quite welcoming and helped calm his stressed-out body. It also numbed his knee, which was very beneficial.
Done with his cleansing, Milo put on some striped boxers and a white muscle shirt. He knew he didn't need to cover the upper part of his body, but he had his reasons. Ever since his parents died, Milo had always been self-conscious about his appearance. Besides his nerdiness and dedication to academics, he was short and gangly making him an easy target for bullies. Being greatly misunderstood, he had no friends. Even in college the only interactions he had had with other human-beings were when he was given an assignment or someone asked if they could copy his paper. Sure it wasn't fair but it was life and Milo had come to terms with it long ago.
However, on the first day of his new job he met Astrid Mortlake, the curator's daughter who also happened to live in the same apartment complex. She wasn't like anyone he had ever met before. She never ridiculed him or his profession, never asked him for ridiculously, tedious favours, and not once did she treat him with disrespect. That is what made her different. She respected him. And they soon became good friends. But although she respected him, she did not agree with his 'proof' of Atlantis's existence. He remembered the day the board wrongfully declined his proposal. Right before he began practising his meeting, she had approached him. But instead of wishing him good luck, something else was said entirely.
"Milo, please don't do this. You know they won't believe you. You'll only be hurting yourself."
"Astrid, this meeting will change my life! With the new proof I've found, they are bound to fund the expedition. I will no longer be the nerdy janitor everyone jokes about. People will finally show me respect."
"Milo, listen. They say if the economy doesn't get better within the next 20 years, there will be a depression. This means they cannot fund an expedition without good, solid proof."
"Astrid, I thought you believed me?"
"I'm sorry Milo. But I stopped believing in fairy tales a long time ago."
"Atlantis is not a fairytale, Astrid! I can prove it!" Milo began to raise his voice.
"Yes it is. It's just a children's bedtime story. And all children eventually need to grow up."
"I am not a child! I'm 32 years old! I can tell when something is real or not! And Atlantis is real!" He was shouting at this point and people were staring.
"Milo, stop! It isn't cute anymore! Your obsession has gotten way out of hand!" Milo sighed.
"Astrid, my grandfather told me stories about Atlantis. He would tell them with so much detail that I could tell what he said was true. His dream was to find the world that fascinated him. He died before that dream came true. That is why this expedition is so important to me. I need to finish what he started. I need to show the world that he was not crazy. Why can't you respect that?" He walked away leaving Astrid speechless.