Page 101 of Through Quick and Quinn
A man is standing near the dressing room. All the stalls are open; I deduce that he is not waiting for someone. He has his eyes fixed on the young angelic girl, who has now made it three racks away from her distracted mother. As I piece together what I believe his motive to be, I notice that his eyes dart far to the left. I follow his gaze to see a woman nod at him, just before she makes her way towards the mother.
“So many beautiful choices, am I right?” The woman strikes up a conversation with the child’s mother. An exchange ensues. Laughter is shared. The distraction is locked in. The woman gives a thumbs up behind her back and the man near the dressing room begins to walk towards the princess.
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Hey Geoffrey,
I’ve had a lot of awful nightmares in my time, and too many flashbacks to count, but this one was different. I woke up in a sweat and had to run to the bathroom to throw up.
What happened to you happened in the blink of an eye. And it happens every single day to children all over the globe. I was foolish in my much younger years to think people who kidnapped children did so because they wanted a family of their own. The truth is that child trafficking is a rampant pandemic. The one that no one ever talks about. Why? Do people think that if they don’t talk about something, if they don’t admit its existence, that then it somehow doesn’t happen? That if they don’t acknowledge it, it absolves them of the guilt that comes with knowing, but doing nothing?
Well, I can no longer do that. Nightmare or not, that little girl’s face will be burned into my retinas for eternity. In addition to the memories of you.
I was so inspired last night by Quinn’s admission that she did a dig on SIDS. To face her demon like that, wow, she’s tough as nails. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that only hours after learning that, I had the nightmare that I did. For the first time, it wasn’t about you. It snapped me out of the false reality that your devastating fate was unique, and it forced me to register the truth. It’s happening to children and families across the globe. By the millions.
You know I don’t believe in coincidences. This happened for a reason. This affected me as much as it did for a reason. I need to pull a page from Quinn’s book, man up, and dive into the atrocious rabbit hole of human trafficking. And not a dive into the shallow end. I’m going deep.
I think I’ve always known that I would get here. Maybe now I feel strong enough to do this. Brave enough. This will torture my soul in new ways and I will miss you more than I ever have before, but I know this is what I need to do.
I love you so much, brother.
-Deck
Oh, and Quinn and I kissed last night. Real deal kinda love.
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Hey Geoffrey,
As you know, I started the dig at about four this morning. It’s now eight o’clock. In the evening. I only stopped because my empty stomach made me, and as I was stuffing leftovers in my mouth, I checked my texts to see that I inadvertently ghosted Quinn for the last nine hours.
I was worried she would think that it had something to do with last night, you know, and the entirely new level of our relationship, so I called her. I knew my voice would ease any worries she may or may not have had, and to be honest, I really wanted to hear hers.
I told her about the nightmare, my reality check, and the meaning I gave to the non-coincidence. I spared her the newly-learned details I unearthed today, especially the ones regarding the foster care system. There’s no need for us both to have nightmares, let’s just put it that way. The crap I’ve read and seen today is enough to leave someone in ruins. Actually, I don’t even know what she discovered herself when she did the dig on trafficking.
Anyway, I’m starting to wonder, Geoffrey… Shouldn’t fighting this atrocity be part of my life path? I can’t remember the last time I felt this strongly about a subject matter, or this passionate about a dig. Which makes total sense, of course. But I can’t get the nightmare out of my head, or the fact that I could see so clearly how the two wicked, depraved miscreants planned to snatch that little girl. Subconsciously, is my brain aware of villainous plots, and therefore ways to stop them? Is this a gift that I could hone in on, nurture, and use to help eradicate such evil?
I’m really starting to think that I should look into this.
Love you.
-Deck
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Hey Geoffrey,
Check this out. Turns out there are several non-profit organizations that fight human trafficking, and I read that one of them has already rescued over 7500 and has arrested over 7000. I am so frickin’ inspired by their website alone!
This is it, brother. This is the fight I’m signing up for.
Here’s what I’m thinking. I start volunteering for one of the non-profits. Make some connections, learn more about the field, gain experience. In the meantime, I go to school and major in criminal justice or forensics. Something like that. A career in law enforcement, especially one with a specific focus like anti-trafficking, requires collegiate education and I can’t even apply until I’m 21 anyway.
I’m pumped. I’m going to tell Quinn right now. Well, no, I’ll tell Mom and Dad first.
Always with you in mind, Geoffrey.
-Deck
