The Book of Hope: Verse 2

Breakfast with the James

The Tale of The Genius: Verse 2, Part 1

"Start the speech off with a joke or a poem, Faith." It was Hope's older adopted brother Finn, The Poet. "I've got one for you."

He stood, raised his fork to his mouth like a microphone and began.

"Ahem..."

"A Lament for Our First National Poet
Poor Mr. Jefferson, you'd think
The two-dollar bill would be worth more."

Her mother tapped her hands together as if to clap. Finn bowed and returned his fork to his pancakes.

"Thanks, Love, but I think I'll stick to the usual stay in school get a good education message."

Faith was a current Representative running for Senator of Massachusetts in the Fall. It was almost Summer nearing the end of the school year and today she was to give a speech at a neighboring town's high school.

"How was meditation this morning, Love?"

"Interesting, mother." How was she to approach bringing up the Dragon? Quantum Physics was welcomed table talk, as was politics; her family was all quite intelligent, but a dragon? A mythical symbol, some religions spoke of them too....

Her grandfather, 'Gramps,' was a renown preacher. He was due to visit in a week. The Genius already decided it was best to speak with him first on the subject.

"Interesting to you, Hope James, is always a lot more than just interesting. Share, honey."

"Well... there's not much sense to it. Images and unconscious things, mother. I thought I'd discuss the whole thing with Gramps."

"Lord knows your Grandfather would love to speak all things religious with you."

Hope gave two nods of her baskets and continued the pancakes she'd perfectly sliced into quarters.

"You know, My Only," it was John her father. "You're always free to express yourself here. We might surprise you with our wisdom."

"It's all right, father. I want to process all this first. Then, I'll talk more about it."

"All right, Love," Faith again, "just don't ever be frightened to say what you're feeling or to ask questions. You're not the only one who finds you interesting, you know." Big smile.

"Schools gonna find you interesting wearing that rainbow shirt." Finn with his High School Senior smirking mouthful of pancakes said.

"Listen Finn, just because I look good in rainbows doesn't mean I'm attempting to define my sexuality."

"Hope James!" John put down his coffee.

"I'm just saying, father, the only statement I'm making is that I look good and feel confident wearing rainbows."

Faith stood, picked up her plate, smiled, "My girls growing up, you know." She walked over and kissed Hope on a basket. "I'll drive you to school today, honey. It's on the way to my speech."

"Okay, Mama," two nods of her baskets.

Faith set her plate down on the floor. Langston came over and cleaned it.

"When you two lovely gentlemen are done eating if you'd be so kind to put the remaining campaign signs in my car, I'd appreciate it. When you're finished brushing your teeth Hope, I'll meet you in the garage."

"Okay, Mama," again two more nods of the baskets.

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The Car and The Cloud

The Tale of The Genius: Verse 2, Part 2

On the car ride to school, Faith was full of her usual advice. "Love, I'm glad to see you taking more interest in how you express yourself."

It was only a 12 1/2 minute ride to her middle school from their farmhouse.

Hope's thoughts now were on her meditation. What could it mean? Dreams were always so cryptic, so in need of explanation.

Her mother continued, "You know, I'm sure Gramps will be thrilled to discuss your meditation with you. I would love to hear some about it, too."

Should she bring it up? Dragons roaring light to save you from a smothering grey static cloud was hardly considered proper conversation.

"Oh, it's difficult to make sense of mother. The unconscious can be so unforgiving."

Faith smiled. "Sometimes our dreams are trying to tell us something, Love. I find talking about it helps. And you know when words aren't enough, I have my art."

Besides being a State Representative and former elementary school teacher, her mother was also an accomplished landscape painter.

"I am very rational you know, mother."

"I know, Love. I also know there's only one way to get better at something and that's to practice."

Two nods of Hope's baskets.

It was always the same way with Hope. When she saw the World, she saw an intricate masterpiece. Everything from an Autumn leaf's fall to a downpour in April made beautiful sense to her. She wished more than anything she could express that beauty to the World.

There was solace in sense, Science made her feel welcome, but even Science missed the point of the wonderful beauty in creation.

You see dear reader Hope James was a genius and the difference between just a very smart person and a genius is: A true genius has a level of compassion to match their level of intelligence.

Hope genuinely cared for the World. She saw it Beautiful and Oh! how she wanted to share what she saw!

People didn't see like she did and her genius heart and mind knew it would help so much if they could.

The car slowed to park in front of her school. "I'll give it some thought today, mother. Do well at the speech."

"Of course, Love." Faith turned to look at Hope and lifted her arms up. Hope mirrored her as they both said in unison, "Don't wrinkle the suit," while they leaned in to kiss each other on the cheek.

"Have a good day at school, Love."

From the school sidewalk, Hope watched her mother drive away.

As Faith turned the corner to leave the parking lot, a grey static cloud like she saw in her meditation formed above her mother's car.

Hope stood still and wondered what to do. The first school bell rang, so she went to class.

Later that afternoon Hope's father picked her up and told her that her mother, State Representative Faith Esperanza James was killed in the latest school shooting.

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After the Funeral, Hope Decides

The Tale of The Genius: Verse 2, Part 3

The funeral came and went with the News Media.

Of course Hope was devastated losing her mother. And she grieved.

"Don't you ever be ashamed to cry Baby Grand." It was Gramps as he held her and shed his own tears. "I grieve for your mother because she meant something, her life meant something."

He stepped back, wiped a tear from Hope's face, "We grieve because your mother's life mattered."

Then, before she could find a proper time to talk with him about the meditation, Gramps was gone again to preach about the injustice on some News programs.

Her father at breakfast one morning finally was able to talk about it. Finn was at the boathouse, a mile walk through their backyard, fixing up the boat for fishing. It was just her, her father, and Langston.

Her Dad, silent about it to her for weeks, just started talking, "The shooter was another kid, a teenager, who never had anyone tell him he was important. He wanted to matter. That's why he did it. It wasn't mental illness. There's been too many. All the shooters do it for the same reason."

He went on, a kind of mumble, "They don't have anyone to tell them there's anything important about them. They want to show the world they're important. So they choose this because they know their names will be online and everyone will see how important they are."

He looked at his folded hands on the dinner table. "People pay attention to tragedy, so people pay for tragedy. Literally. It's why the News looks the way it does. Billions of dollars everyday are paid to people to flock to it and report it."

"That's not right, father."

"Yes, My Only, but it's established. People fear change more than they fear an occasional shooting."

"All people had to do was to be nice to a kid? To pay him some attention? Tell him he was important somehow? That's all? It just doesn't make sense they didn't."

"People are preoccupied with their schedules, Hopie. Caught up in the busyness of their days. Most just assume it's the parent's responsibility. And they're right. But a lot of parents don't understand, if you want your kids to behave better you have to show them how and then congratulate them when they do. It does come down to kindness and attention. It really, really does."

"What about the teachers?"

"We can't blame them. There's just too many students in each class and not enough hours in a school day. Most do their best. But to recognize every student to be excellent for one particular thing... well it would be helpful. Just not practical the way things are set up."

"Sounds to me the way things are set up is the problem, father."

"Agreed, Hope. Remember to change it requires what people fear the most: Change."

"The world needs some heroes then, father."

"Yes, My Only, the World most definitely could use some more of those."

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Later that morning Hope and Langston on a walk to the boathouse...

Over the past few weeks since 'That Day,' as her family now referred to it, Hope and Langston grew closer.

"It's not that I mean to personify you, Langston. I wouldn't wish that on your species. People rarely make much sense."

The bloodhound kept up with her leashless as they walked side by side through the New England Summer woods.

"It's not like I could just say, 'Mother, I saw a dragon.' Or send a text saying, 'Mother, there's a cloud from my meditation hovering over your car.' But I did see it, Langston."

Hope already ruled out delusions or 'being crazy.' She consulted The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders most current version, concluded she was sane, and decided what she saw was... for lack of a better word: real.

What if what she saw was a by-product of Enlightenment? Did she reach it? There'd been no other such visions since. But it definitely was an omen of sorts.

"If I could just find the right words to express it and make it make plausible sense, Langston, I know it's connected some way. I know it can help."

The person she knew best at finding the right words was her adopted brother Finn, The Poet.

"I decided I'm finally going to talk about the grey static, Langston.... with a person, I mean, of course."

She pet behind his ear as they walked. "Finn's the smart choice. I have to do something. It has to mean something."

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Side-Story: Evil Dresses in Grey

A Faith Esperanza James Campaign Speech

"It's a slow creep. That's how military rule happens. Our minds drip to haze. History forgets to teach, for example, a Nazi was a person. A Mom. A Dad. A Grandmother. A Grandfather. Millions of them. All started with hearts and heads like our own. How did their hate get so bad? Not overnight. No. Small manipulations. Little fears planted on the street."

"Propaganda isn't propaganda if it's called News. Called talk. Called media. Called radio."

"Maybe. Might be. You never know."

"That's how Evil sounds. Evil is not Black and White. Evil is Grey. No color. No, Yes. No, Good. No, Bad. Grey. In the middle. On edge and in the middle. Terrorized. Mothers and fathers don't wake up in the morning and say, "Let's commit genocide. It's the thing to do."

"You are a mother, or father, son, or daughter. What gets us to Evil? How does the process look? What makes a Nazi? We are not born with hate. We are taught, through titration, hate is not hate. We slowly replace the word hate with a new term: "The Greater Good."

"But history shows for the good of everyone is never good for anyone. There's a balance. Some benefit in one aspect, others in another. Diversity is color. Not Black or White, certainly not Grey. Evil dresses in Grey."

"'We stand for something, or We fall for anything.' Remember?"

"Left or Right the story is the same. Whatever the Left-hand does the Right-hand disagrees with. And depending on whether the Country is Left-handed or Right-handed at the time decides what has the best possibility of happening. But never does. Because no one will make a stand."

"We don't progress. We are a living breathing document. We breathe; therefore, We grow. America is progress. America moves forward."

"The two-party system is a simple one to understand. They are not yes or no entities at each other's throats. No. Both are for progress. Because America means forward. Each party stands for the speed at which we travel. Far Left: pedal to the metal. Far Right: sloths shoot by."

"We are heading to the same goal, the progress of the people. Not political and personal gain, not face-saving, not backwards."

"We don't keep America Great. We don't make America Great again. Great is gone and done. Greatest is finished."

"America is Greater. If we are not perpetually greater, then there's no progress. And that which does not grow festers and runs, The Dream explodes, as Langston Hughes put it so well not so long ago."

"Never whether or not we move forward, but how fast. That's Government in Our Country. That's the duty. Someone in the house pinches pennies, someone goes wild on vacation and spends some more. We should save. We should spend. There is a middle ground."

"Moderation. Moderate? Remember that word?"

"My name is Faith Esperanza James; I am an Extreme Moderate. And I am running for Senator of Our Commonwealth of Massachusetts."

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