The Hidden Genre (C. H. H. Ain't Dead 01)

chapter seventeen - part two

Ever since Luke left the orphanage, his growth had excelled. He gained meat on his bones, but the same couldn't be said about the hallways. He and Ms. Miller walked side by side conquering the space.

   “That's everything I'm dealing with,” said Luke, “right now, I don't know what to decide on.”

   “Yes yes, you got a huge choice to make at such a young age, but I'm not religious. You will have to speak to your friend from that angle.”

   Ms. Miller swore she heard Young Chaser's eyes hit the ground. What did he expect? It was like rushing someone to the doctor with the expectations for the person to be saved, regardless of the condition. Such high expectations that by the time you realize the doctor's only human and can't fix everything, you are too upset and crushed.

   “However, I said I wanted to show you something, didn't I?” she put her hand on the door knob. It wasn't rusting, nor did it have cracks or chips. It was . . . new. So was the door. Ms. Miller opened them into a new world.

   “A food court?” questioned Luke in awe.

   “Yes yes, it's a food court,” she said, proudly as if she designed it. “This, Luke, is just one of the improvements that your money has brought to the orphanage.”

   Luke was beyond speechless. His lips quivered from the lack of words. The joy radiating off the kids made his eyes watery. Hunger, was no longer a word in their dictionary.

   “You've done more for us than the government,” continued Ms. Miller, “yet people think it's them who has been aiding us. Those who don't trust the government to do something like this, they thought we were dealing drugs. We've even had police come here with a search warrant, all because of that rumor. Obviously they found nothing. I don't know what they were expecting.”

   “Ms. Miller, every month you thanked me for my contributions, it made me happy to know that my money was in good hands.” Luke's voice was vulnerable, tears held on like a bungee jumper having second thoughts, “But actually seeing what the funds has done for the kids . . . I'm so glad to see them have what I never had. It's so enjoyable . . .”

   “Don't cry on me just yet, Young Chaser,” she said. “This is just the beginning.”

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Ms. Miller showed the sponsor the bedrooms that they were currently working on. No more shall it be called bed chambers. It no longer felt like a prison. They had the warmth during winter that Luke never did.

   Why had Marge abandoned him when the chance of seeing her everyday was why he endured the cold nights? He had lost his purpose for living back then. Pieces of his life were taken away, and unlike the moon, it didn’t come back to complete him every month.

   “Here we are,” said Ms. Miller as they came upon another section. “Recognize it?”

   “It's the sick bay,” the celebrity answered with confidence.

   “Yes yes, unfortunately you are correct.”

   “Because you were referring to the improvements, weren't you, Ms. Miller?”

   They entered another corridor and Luke got sucked to the back room, “Well well, you sure remember your trauma room. Maybe your memory isn’t as bad as you think.”

   “I don’t think it’s that . . . it’s just . . . I could never forget something like that,” struggled Luke, “to witness someone's head . . . everywhere . . . it was too much.”

   He couldn't stomach the memory. Ever since that day, he had been unable to remember names and memories of the past properly. Sometimes he couldn't even process the name of a person he met. It was as if his brain got blown apart and then put back incorrectly.

   “Hey, Luke!” Ms. Miller brought him out of the past. “Let's get away from here and go have lunch together, shall we?”

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“Can I ask you a question, Ms. Miller?” Luke asked over lunch, “Do you know what happened to my parents?”

   “You’re wondering if I know anything about how you ended up at the orphanage?” Ms. Miller gave him a thorough look.

   Was Luke ready to hear such?

   “Okay,” she decided he was, “only because I was there that night,” the celebrity’s heart stopped at her words. “It’s only fair that I tell you what I know.”

   “You’re saying you actually knew my parents and kept it from me all this time?” asked Luke, with a hint of anger.

   “No, I said I'll tell you what I know about how you ended up here,” she clarified, “I don't know who your parents are, Young Chaser, but there was a lot of child trafficking going on back then. The police brought you here when you were two years old. They said they found you in the house of a criminal they arrested. He was arrested for murder and drugs, not for child trafficking. The man said he didn't know who you were, but thought that the woman, who died that day, probably stole you . . .”

   “Stole me? Was she going . . .?” it all clicked for the celebrity. “She was going to sell me . . .?” Liquor.

   Ms. Miller nodded to Luke’s statement, it was better than admitting the terrible reality of what could have happened to him. How one night changed the course of his life.

   “I can't believe this,” continued the celebrity. “This is the reason why my parents haven't tried contacting me . . . they think I'm dead?” Liquor.

   Ms. Miller had eighteen years to play the night over and over in her head, it didn’t make sense. She checked the missing children reports. Luke’s face and name wasn’t even a rumor to them. She had contacted the NCPA regarding the issue, but a Detective Rennells ensured her not to let it steal her sleep. The kid would be informed when he was old enough to understand. Ms. Miller’s sleep returned after hearing how sincere the woman was.

   “Don't let it get you down, Young Chaser,” she finally said, “look at how you turned out. You've grown into a respectful and handsome young man. Not everyone gives back the way you do. Your desire to not have it public shows your humility. You have a good heart, Luke.”

   Did he really? Everything he did for the orphanage was because he had a chance to make something of his life and he grabbed it with both hands. He would've been kicked out at eighteen, at least according to the rules, had he not won the competition. None of these improvements would be possible if it wasn't for Decep Records.

   “Whatever decision you make,” continued Ms. Miller, “just know, we will always be grateful for what you've done.”

   If this much good came from the last three years, how much more would come from an extra seven? Would the seven year contract really be worth it? The answer was a no-brainer, yet Isaac's opinion he still longed for.

   And what a night it would turn out to be.

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