Hope Is Crazy, Second Interval

SECOND INTERVAL

Not so long ago Spirit had walked the halls of a particular high school, smiling at faces that knew her, smiling more at faces that knew her not. Not yet anyway. None saw her, ethereal as she was, but some could feel her touch as she walked by. She exuded Grace with each step and she never ceased to move, no river ever flowed as swiftly or as bountifully as she.
Glancing at each soul she passed, her gaze pierced through flesh and bone, seeing hearts and minds. Some were open to her, others barred and gated against her, not wishing to be touched. She found each choice worthy of respect, but wished the walls and gates would crumble, leaving hard hearts open to her caress.
She liked coming here, as she liked coming any place that people gathered. People were so full of life, so pregnant with possibilities. Some chose to blossom and grow, others to wither and die, yet even the dead in heart could be made to bloom, given the right prodding. Choices could be made for good or ill, no matter how old these mortals got. Growth was always possible, even in the twilight years. She did some of her best work with old and young alike. She was always on the move, always visiting new souls, revisiting those she'd traveled to before. All in the blink of an eye. Time was nothing to her, she existed beyond it.
On this particular occasion, her eye had fallen on a special young boy with blue hair. This boy, she knew, had the uncanny ability to baffle minds and change hearts wherever he went. He was just beginning to tap this ability but, most precious of all, he was still largely unaware of his talent. It sprung naturally from who he was and yet he never recognized it when it happened. He would never fully understand the impact he had on others, but he would continue changing lives until his had ended.
Suppressing a giggle, Spirit stepped into his future. What a complicated future it was, full of heartbreak, discovery, and joy. She saw him meet a lovely young lady who'd been born a boy. She saw these two first become friends and quickly grow into lovers. She saw his family reject the young lady, saw the young lady break the boy's heart and search for love elsewhere. With a mirthful grin, Spirit threw some Grace on the situation and the two eventually became friends once more.
A complicated web of depression and suicide wove itself into the tapestry of this boy's future. She saw a tree, saw the boy hanging from a rope. With a small, sharp giggle, Spirit entered the situation directly and sprinkled the rope with Grace just as the boy fell from the branch. The knot slipped loose, landing the boy on his feet. He looked at the rope, confused, then realized the presence of his savior and put tree and rope behind him as he walked his way home.
Stepping back to the boy's present, Spirit glanced across the hall to a second boy with dark blond hair, partially obscured by a baseball cap he'd flipped backwards on his head. Yes, this one was another lovely gem. She stepped into his future, complicated in other ways. She saw fierce loyalty, a willingness to protect those he cared for, not at all unlike Another that Spirit knew. The boy's outlook was bleak, but his heart was golden, his future bright. This one would not be attending college, he'd find his meaning elsewhere, and many would think less of him for this choice. But his wisdom would surpass that of his critics.
He would form strong friendships by which he would keep watch over all those that mattered to him. One of these friendships, a young lady named Samantha, would be threatened by a broken man who liked to dominate. One night the man would go too far, beating her close to death.
Spirit saw this boy, baseball cap gone now, his hair a bit longer, burst onto the scene, alerted by a panicked phone call that had ended abruptly. Wasting no time, this boy beat back the broken man, disarming him when he pulled a gun. They fought for many minutes before the broken man reclaimed his pistol. Both man and boy wrestled with the gun until it discharged. Gasping blood, the broken man slumped to the floor. Medics and police were alerted; the boy was questioned, then absolved of blame.
Interestingly enough, this encounter not only strengthened his friendship with the young lady, it also led to another confrontation with an outside aggressor. This aggressor would be a foreign woman with a scar through one eye.
Noting the gun in this woman's hand and the twinkle in the boy's eye, Spirit beamed mightily as she sprinkled Grace onto his next bold decision. The two developed deep bonds of affection and the woman forsook her profession of death, leaving just enough space in her heart for Spirit to slip through.
Stepping back into the present, Spirit glanced from the boy with the hat to the boy with blue hair and back again. What a powerful friendship these two might have if allowed to meet. They were so close, but the boy with blue hair had few social skills and did not make friends easily.
Exuding Grace, Spirit touched the boy with the hat. He half turned and saw the boy with blue hair out of the corner of his eye. Hat boy smiled and walked over to the boy with blue hair.
"Hey," said hat boy, touching blue hair on the shoulder, "I'm Desmond."
Blue hair jolted at the other boy's touch. "Please don't-please don't t-touch me," said blue hair.
Desmond continued, unfazed. "Tell me your name and I'll consider it."
Blue hair turned, his sexy green eyes avoiding the other's face. "I like to be called Punk."
"Well, Punk," chuckled Desmond, "I really like your hair."
"Th-thanks," said Punk, trying to smile. "I was-I was trying something new."
"Well it looks great," said Desmond. "However, why don't you try adding some pink highlights as well? That would be awesome."
"You think so?"
"Definitely." Desmond thought a moment. "Know what? If you come by my place after school we can do it today."
"Really?"
"Yeah," said Desmond. "It'll be fun, I guarantee it."
A new bond was forming between them, weaving the fabric of their destinies into one cloth. Though they would quarrel and split ways once or twice in days to come, their ties would never be fully broken, Desmond's nature would see to that. As would Punk's unconscious gift. What's more, the joining of these two held the seeds of reconciliation for a mother and a son.
Spirit saw both boys silhouetted in wedding garb and, smiling, stepped into each of these futures as well. She had many futures to observe, many souls to visit, but Spirit could afford to dally. Time was her playground, after all.

END OF SECOND INTERVAL