François' Quest

14

While Trevor was having fun booking people, François and Lowdian were watching as Denzil Allen was being laid to rest for the final time. Lowdian had the tombstone replaced. It now read,
Here lies the Martyr
Denzil Allen
who died for his belief
that the world could be
disease free
Always Loved
Always Remembered

She brought fresh flowers, placed them at his tombstone.
François held her in his arms. She put her head on his chest as slow soft tears fell.
The world would know what Denzil did to try to save everyone from the engineered destruction of the human race by big pharma through laboratory created diseases. Feeling satisfied that, as much as possible, justice had been served for Denzil and against those that murdered him. Although Lowdian was certain the actual killers would not suffer for their crime, those who plotted to have him killed and those trying to cover it up would pay in one way or another.
In the end if she could have one or the other, either the actual killers being caught or the whole world knowing about the cure, she preferred the latter.
Later that day, they were once again at Yellow Cup drinking almond flavor coffee and eating carrot cake. She wasn't eating. François wanted to try to lighten Lowdian's mood. She was content but sad at the same time. Many mixed emotions swirling around like the cream floating on the top of her coffee.
He understood it all.
He understood her.
"How are you?" He said in a whisper.
"Hummm?" She was as if in slow-motion, mindlessly stirring her coffee watching the cream travel round on the surface of the hot liquid with her elbow on the table, her cheek resting in her hand, as though her head was too heavy to be held up on its own.
"I want to know how you are?"
She let out a sigh like a baby that is about to go to sleep after one last yawn.
"I'm exhausted." She started, not moving just staring into the mug, at the swirling cream. Like someone who had lost everything but gained the world.
"It is hard you know?"
"What is?"
"Knowing that you are right. Not being believed. Feeling helpless to prove what you know to be true yourself. People treating you like you are lying or crazy or possessed. Then having what you know to be right proved without a shadow of a doubt. That what you believed was true all along. All the worst monsters in your nightmares coming alive. Then being believed. I feel like I have been holding my breath for over a year, ever since he died. The worst thing is having proved for yourself and the world that you were not crazy, possessed or lying, that they really did murder him. It's as if I am reassessing everything in my mind from the beginning to see what makes sense. You know? None of it does. Denzil can't be brought back to life. He is still gone. I guess I just did it for him. He and what he did for humanity didn't deserve to be swept under the rug. Forgotten without a trace, without history. I am tired François, really tired."
"Yes, I know."
He touched her shoulder then with the back of his hand he gently touched her cheek. He felt sad but elated at the same time. Sad that she was going through this but elated that he would be able to help her heal. He would give her reason to live, a purpose in life, love, protection, security. For all that his heart swelled.
Another big sigh escaped Lowdian's lungs.
"I have one last concern."
"Humm, what is that?" Still not lifting her head as if in a trance.
"Your safety."
She jerked up to look at François then. As though coming to attention.
"What do you mean?"
"Let me ask you this. Are you going to continue to sell cannabis to people?"
"Do I have a choice?" She was wide-eyed now.
"Not really."
"Right." Returning to her mindless stirring. "Right is right, wrong is wrong. How can you hide the cure when you have it? How could you justify saying nothing?"
She was rambling a bit but François felt wholeheartedly that she deserved to ramble if that is what she wanted to do. He was going to listen.
"Do you remember what W. Clement Stone said?"
"He said lots of things. What did you have in mind?" François asked.
In fact he could listen to her all day long for that matter.

"Truth will always be truth, regardless of lack of understanding, disbelief, denial, or ignorance." She smiled, "That is one of my favorite quotes."
"I like it too." He said softly and with sentiment. W. Clement Stone was one of François favorite writers too. Another thing he had in common with the enchanting Lowdian.
".......Or as you like to say, 'la vérité'." She whispered.
"The truth." He repeated in English with a soft empathetic smile.
"Denzil often asked people, as I did, 'If you had the cure for cancer, what would you do with it?' Every last person raises their voice, almost to shouting, 'I would tell the world!' That is all that he was doing. Telling the world what he knew. What he discovered. People are afraid of the truth. Greed killed Denzil. The greed of other people."
"THAT.....is the truth!" François added.
"How could I stop trying to help people? I simply can't."
"I am not asking you to stop. I am just asking 'us' to figure out a way that you could continue without there being any threat or injury to yourself. You see I would like you to stick around for a long time." Another smile.
François knew that he had created a firestorm between big pharma, the media and the public. Big pharma would be on a warhorse to tell people that cannabis was a poisonous, dangerous substance to people who ingest it.
As expected, the charges against the CEO of Galaxy were dropped as were the charges against the coroner.
The coroner was fired from his job, he subsequently left the country.
About a month after "the truth" had been reported by all the major news agencies worldwide, mysteriously Mr. Galaxy disappeared, his yacht found floating, abandoned, off the coast of Jamaica. Not a living soul onboard.

His body was never found.