The Cost

Chapter 2 - Sierra

"....Ask and it will be given to you; search, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened for you." —Jesus

Every night it was the same thing. Running from something, searching for a way past the darkness. I would wake up sweating as if it was real. But it was just a dream, I would tell myself.

Yeah. Just a dream.

Everyone at school was thinking more and more about their community 'assignment'. We'd be graduating pretty soon and start our training for it. If I didn't think of something I could apply for the community leaders to assign me a job based on what was lacking. The more I thought about it in the next five days, the more I actually wondered what it would be like if I had parents at the graduation like most of my other classmates...there in the crowd, watching me. Proud of me. The only family member I might be able to count on was Trish. Otherwise there were no relatives I could really think of.

I tried to push the thought out of my mind as I left school that day. There was no point in wishing for something I would never have. I would never have a family like the others did. It was just Trish and me. And it always would be.

Still, deep down, I wondered: what had really happened to my parents? Was it possible that I had family somewhere else?

****

I walked down the street with earphones plugging my ears. I'd already dropped Trish off at home, and I was glad that Moana 368 was finally in function—she would be delivered to our apartment later that day, just in time to make dinner. I was looking forward to it, already pretty tired of tuna sandwiches and chips for some reason.

My mind wandered to the guy from the fountain. Every day his words echoed in my mind like I'd just heard them: Don't think that your military can protect you from judgement so that you can continue in sin. No army can stand against God. When He acts, who can reverse it? Yet He takes no pleasure in the death of the wicked, but that each of you would turn back to Him.....

I made a sudden beeline for the library. Something in me had to know who this guy was.

****

None of the articles I found on the computer about what he'd done that day gave a name. He was always referred to as "radical", "bigot" or something along those lines. It appeared that this wasn't the first time he had spoken publicly though; he'd been warned before. There was nothing about what had happened to him afterward, aside from him being "apprehended".

So I was at a dead end. A total dead end. But I kept looking.

"Ummm, excuse me?" The librarian tapped me on the shoulder, startling me. I hadn't even known she was there. "Can I help you with anything?"

I hesitated a moment. "I'm looking for a name," I told her finally.

"Ok....?"

I took a deep breath. "The guy who was at the foundation five days ago. I need to know his name."

She raised an eyebrow. "Is this for a project or personal interest?"

I shrugged. "Personal interest."

She just looked at me for a moment, and I wondered if I shouldn't have said anything. She checked to make sure no one was around, then bent closer to me. "I don't have any names—any information like that was erased about a year ago. But I do know he had a close friend who worked with him for a while. If you're looking to do an interview or something I can connect you with her...."

"Yeah," I told her quickly. "I want to talk to her."

The librarian nodded and straightened up. She took out a piece of paper. "Don't let anyone know I gave this to you. Got it?"

"It's safe with me," I said quickly, surprised but relieved that the librarian would decide to trust me in such a short amount of time.

She scribbled on the scrap sheet of paper quickly before handing it to me:

Her name is Sierra. 8B Arrow Street.

****

Sierra's place was sort of on the opposite side of the community. A far walk, but only a few minutes when I took the subway.

Arrow Street was sort of a quiet, slow place. Most of the people I saw were elderly, which included a woman watering flowers on her lawn and a couple strolling nearby. So who was Sierra? The guy's grandmother or something?

I didn't know what I'd tell her when she first opened the door. I figured I'd think of something when it happened; at least that's what I told myself, so I wouldn't think too much about how awkward the encounter might be.

I found 8B, stepped up the small set of stairs and rang the doorbell. There was no answer at first, and I wondered if anyone was home. When I least expected it the door swung back with the force of a hurricane, and a girl who couldn't have been much older than me stood in the doorway.

She looked me over quickly without a word. Then, "Can I help you?"

I hesitated, everything that had told me I would think of something suddenly seeming stupid and childish. Why was I even here? To get the name of some crazy guy I hardly knew?

"Actually," I said quickly, "I just needed to ask you some questions."

Her expression was immediately surprised—or suspicious—but she waited for me to continue.

"Who—who was the name of that guy on the fountain?" I blurted out, hardly thinking about what I was saying.

"The guy on the fountain?" she said, confused. Then suddenly it dawned on her. "Ohhh....that guy. So are you one of his dozens of supporters who wants to know what happened to him? Because I have no idea. Someone keeps giving away my information as if I'm his secretary or something...."

"Someone told me you knew him."

"Someone?" she exclaimed. "I think everyone must know by now." She laughed suddenly, a move I wasn't expecting in the least. She stepped aside. "Come on in. I feel like I've met you before."

It seemed too simple for her to just let me in when we'd hardly met. I just stood on the stairs for a moment, surprised and not sure what to think. Then, my brain finally clicking back into gear, I followed her into the house.