The Mission

I got off the bus and looked around the grimy district. A few run-down commercial buildings with broken windows and boarded-up doors lined the narrow paved road. The bus depot was simply a parking lot with a small window on the side of a building. There seemed to be no traffic, but it was the middle of the day on a Tuesday. Maybe people were all at work. Hopeful thinking on my part, as I saw the trash piled up in the corners of buildings.

I pulled my satchel to the front of my body to keep wandering hands out of it. My fingers felt the outline of the book in my bag, causing a rush of deep sadness. I hugged my bag tightly to comfort myself. Stealing my nerves, I took a deep breath and looked around for road signs. The four-way made the first steps easy. I moved away from the three other bus riders toward my goal.

A few blocks later, I came upon a familiar sight, a green street sign with white letters. The town was new to me but I could still recognize the sign. I could see the exact ink drawing in my mind. Again my fingers went to where the book was in my bag.

Across the street was another familiar sight. An old run-down Catholic church. Bricks were missing from the facade, the windows were broken and one of the doors rotted away. A small statue of the virgin with half of her face missing and gang graffiti on her cloak stood outside the door like a forgotten guardian. The sight was very depressing for the small Spanish town.

I walked across the street and stood at the bottom of the stairs. The missing door did nothing to light up the interior. I had no idea who or what could be inside. I had not seen another living being the whole walk here. Would anyone hear me scream? Feeling my resolve start to slip I sat at the feet of the statue. Maybe this was a bad idea. I could always say I tried and go home. No one else would know I failed. Tears pricked at my eyes.

Slowly I pulled out the book. The smooth black cover was a bit worn and the edges fraying a bit. I smelled the pages. Ann’s smiling face came to my mind, without even opening up the cover. I let myself cry for a short time, looking over the drawings and notes inside. I loved looking at the world the way she saw it. Then wiped away the tears and reminded myself of why I was here. This wasn’t about me, it was about her and what she wanted.

I stood up and looked at the dark portal, pushing my fear to the bottom of my stomach. My feet took the first step slowly. But I rushed the rest of the steps and into the door before I could second guess myself. Inside I was screaming in fear, rundown buildings are never a good idea.

Inside I blinked to adjust to the darkness. The large open floor space was cluttered with debris and busted pews. Light from some high windows streamed to the ground but the rest of the area was very dark. The smell of dirt and rust filled the air with a bit of something putrid. Uncomfortable chills ran up my arms. This was the perfect scene for a murder.

To my right was a guy laying on the floor, his arm over his face. His jacket sleeve was ripped, exposing a dirty elbow. His legs were crossed but his body was relaxed. Was he sleeping or not?

I hugged my bag closer to my chest. I took two large scuffling steps toward him. “Excuse me.” I waited for a response. Nothing. “Excuse me.” I took two more steps closer. “I need to find Danny. Would you know if he is here?” I nudged his leg gently.

He groaned. After lowering his arm, he looked me up and down. Instead of saying anything, he pointed to the front of the area. There was a hallway in that direction. Then he put his arm back over his face.

I wanted to question going further into the building but didn’t allow myself. I carefully stepped around the broken pews and trash to get to the hallway as quickly as I could. I tried to ignore the needles scattered around the floor and tip-toed through the mess. Finally leaving the main area, I looked down the hallway and my shoulders fell. Why am I doing this again? This can’t be worth the trouble.

The hallway was dark. A perfect ambush spot. The left wall was made of large rough concrete blocks. Doors dotted the right side of the hallway. The lack of light created intimidating shadows down the long passageway. I looked back to the open area behind me and the open door. I pushed back my desire to run away screaming.

I moved toward the wall and walked quietly along the hallway. The doors were mostly closed and others had been separated from their hinges completely. The rooms clouded in darkness made me wonder what was inside. My heart was beating so hard I could hear it in my ears. I rushed my steps to reach the end of the hall.

At the end of the hallway, another large room sat in disrepair. Three large windows towered above it with light coming in where they were broken. The light created a haze similar to fog in a predawn forest. Large particles of dirt and dust were floating around. A large crucifix hung on the wall facing the windows, covered in graffiti. Someone had spray-painted blood on his face and hands. The statue’s bright colors were out of place in the darkness of the room.

Under the statue was a large high backed chair. Most of the red velvet fabric was gone, leaving dirty foam exposed. The right arm was missing and large chunks of the ornate wood were gone. At the foot of the chair laid a crushed empty can of energy drink and an empty needle. In the chair was a tall lanky man. His head laid back resting on the back of the chair but his greasy hair fell over his eyes. His arms hung over the side of the chair, a belt tightly wrapped around one.

I moved slowly toward him, accidentally kicking a glass bottle. The clanking of the glass rolling around the concrete floor echoed throughout the whole room. I froze. His head rolled toward me. His face was the same as she had drawn it with her pen, down to every detail. I took another step toward him. “Danny?”

The only response I got was the flick of his hand. I waited for him to say something. The silence stretched out between us and I waited. Finally, he raised his hand and pushed his hair back. His blue eyes were glassy and half-closed. “What?” His voice was gravelly and deep.

I opened my bag. “ I have something for you.” I pulled out the large envelope full of money and the small black book. Reluctantly, I held them out to him. This was all that was left of her life and the good works she lived for; $20,000 and a cheap black sketchbook. Now I stood on the edge of giving it all away.

He sat up. His head seemed to be too heavy for him and took great effort to lift it from the back of the chair. His hand moved as if it was in slow motion.

I could smell the body odor and vomit as he moved toward me. After handing him the items, I stepped back, fighting back my urge to gag.

His arm fell with the weight of the items, but then he pulled it up to his face. Both eyebrows pulled together, realization filled his eyes and his face fell. “This is my sister Ann’s sketchbook. She wouldn’t leave this.” He stood up very quickly. “Why…” He went silent, then looked at me with large eyes full of tears and understanding.

I took a deep breath. “She once told me she regretted not being able to help you when she had a whole facility for helping people.” My voice hitched as it came out in a small whisper. “I hope what she left you will finally be able to help you.” Losing my battle, I ran back through the hallway and past all the debris of the main area.

I exited the door, continuing to run down the stairs. My heart pounded in my chest as the echoes of his loud sobs chased me to the bottom step. Tears flowing down my face.

I stopped under the street sign and looked up at it. I took a deep breath and let out all my anxiety and worry. There was nothing else I could do for Ann. She had touched my life and showed me the meaning of love with her giving nature and now I had passed that love to another in the world.