Blanca Like Snow

Chapter 30 - Passion

       I've been spending more time with Will, some times go well and we can talk without ending raising our voices, some others end up with one of us storming out. Ninety-nine percent of the time, it's me.

Through his passionate speech, he tries to explain to me why it's important to be more aware of the world we live in and how to help. He insists if every person did just a bit, then it becomes such a big thing when seven billion people are doing it, like recycling. When one person does it, it already helps. When two is even better. When it's hundreds, thousands, millions and billions, it is such a wonderful thing.

"It all adds up," he usually says. "Same as harmful actions. It all adds up."

And I understand what he says, I get it's important, but saving the world like he wants means slowing down in progress, and doesn't everyone want for things to improve? To be better? To work faster? Society doesn't walk, society runs, constantly, unstoppable. How can that be achieved without sacrifice?

Human beings are selfish by nature, they want their personal comfort and gain, so at the end, they'll want a better life, better gadgets, better clothes, better houses, better everything.

Maybe, if they knew what it costs to produce their pretty belongings or the lifestyle they have, they'd feel guilty. Perhaps not. But most people know terrible things are done to accomplish what they enjoy so much, but they choose not to know how they are made so they don't have to think about it, so they don't have to feel guilty.

How does Will expect that people who are used to easy things and comfort will start making changes and sacrifice what they are used to in order to save the world?

Right now, we are at a box window at the end of the hall upstairs, one that leads to the back of the house and is big enough for two people to sit there, like we are, with our legs bend but entwined, and facing each other.

"You can't just fix the world and society because you want to," I tell him. He sounds so hopeful when he speaks, and if there were actually hope. "You can't snap your fingers and make a change because you want to."

I understand what he wants, I think it's really noble of him, but at the same time, so unreachable.

"But change starts with something. If I give up and don't even try to make people aware, then it's really over." He looks at me with such determination, such conviction. "It's like tidal waves, right? They start small but they grow and grow until hey read the edge."

"But in the ocean, they don't reach the edge. They fade before that, because it's too big," I insists, using his same analogy.

"Perhaps, but they reached part of it. Then it'll have to be a succession of these." He takes a deep breath and looks out the window, to the dark clouds in the sky, the ones that threaten with rain any moment. "I'll keep starting them and see them grow."

"Why do you even try so hard?" I'm honestly curious, to see where that passion comes from. If I were him, if I saw the unbeatable opponent in front of me I would've given up and found something else to do, a different way to help. Maybe I'd just do my part, but wouldn't dream on making others also change.

"Clarisse told me, when I asked, that my mother gave me up after my father abandoned her for not having an abortion. I guess she was too scared of going through that because she had no problem abandoning me. She blamed me for his cowardice," he starts telling me and I feel my heart clenching already.

Even if we are close, right now he starts to feel so far away, lost in the old and painful memories.

"No one fought for me back then, no one tried to tell her that it wasn't my fault what kind of jerk he was," he continues and I don't dare to interrupt. "I was abandoned, just like that. It was unfair and I've never liked unfairness. Since I was a little kid I always stood up for the ones who couldn't defend themselves. I was six or seven, I think, when I got in a fight with a kid. He had a bunny as a pet but he lifted it, made it dance, shook it and all those things kids do with pets, you know? It's basically abuse. So I yelled at the kid that he was hurting the bunny and he was being a monster and if he'd like if I did that to him. I started shaking him the same way and the kid ended up crying. I got in a load of trouble for that, but I was just trying to save the bunny." His smile is sad and I press my lips together as I watch him, trying to imagine him as a child, already standing up for little defenceless animals.