Two Wrongs Do Make a Right (Rewriting in Progress)

Chapter 9: Ryan's First Blood

"Well, that was something," I say, trying to make sense of what just happened. "I've never seen that kind of enthusiasm for a politician before."

"This your first time attending?" Esther asks.

"Oh yeah," I reply, still taking it all in. "The energy, the rage, and so much more; it's like there's a magnetism to him, you know?"

"And how are you feeling?"

"Strange. That entire thing was crazy. It's hard for me to believe it all. He was . . . He was . . ." My words fail me, such was the electric mood of the crowd all around. "He was something, alright."

"Did you feel as angry as they were?"

"Not really. It was more like . . . like . . . like you were getting sucked in to a vortex with no way out. You feel like you were being dragged into this giant mass. Oh, that was too much." I pause to take some time to breathe. "How about you?"

"Annoyed at the whole spectacle," she says, observing some workers lifting chairs and dissecting the stage. "I've met him a few times, and I've attended his speeches a couple of times, so I know what he's like. But I'm just here because my Dad is somewhere around here." She looks around, getting somewhat impatient. "At least, he should be around here."

"How's your relationship with him?" I ask.

"Fine. Just fine," she says, without elaborating further. She checks her phone and feels disappointed about it.

"You don't seem like it."

"Nah, it's okay. Just probably taking his time, is all." She straightens her wavy blonde hair as we observe the gaudy fountain in front of us. The sunset is bouncing a dull gold shine from the paint around the top, which slowly irritates me.

"How's your mother, Ryan?"

"Same as always. Working cases. Being a good lawyer for the needy and all that. Why?"

"I've seen her a few times. Her hard work, her commitment; it's on another level. You should be proud of her."

"Really?" I say. This is new. Ma never tells me what her work is like, so Esther's compliment intrigues me. "What's she like in the field?"

"Well, from the few times I observed her, she's an absolute worker. She gives her best to those who have the least. She'd tell me stories about meeting single mothers in trailer parks or homeless widows living in the abandoned factories in New Dundee and helping them with their paperwork, and other times she'd be spending hours working the lines in the welfare office for their monthly stipends. She works incredibly hard for them, the poor and sick people in town. I admire her, Ryan. I really do."

"Oh. Thanks, I guess," I sheepishly say. It's nice to know a snippet of what she does, as I've never gotten to know what her work was like, beyond what she tells me. "And what about you, Esther? What do you do?"

"Ah, well . . . I . . ." she stutters, "It's complicated."

"Why's that?"

"It's a long story. Believe me, it's difficult to get your head around it."

"Why? It's not like it's any worse than mine. Come on, it can't be that bad."

She hesitates for a long time before looking at me. "I work with my dad to look for new mining prospects, but he doesn't really take me seriously. He said he wants me to take over the family business at some point, but he doesn't bother to train me or even help me understand how it all works. So I visit him at one of these potential sites, or in the town hall, or when he's meeting with investors or local officials, but even then he doesn't slow down to talk me through some complicated procedure or jargon; he, like, expects me to know what he's talking about right away. You know, I try to keep up, but it's so hard sometimes."