“There is something wrong with
everybody and it’s up to you to know what you can handle.” –Close Range
“Are
you trying to kill yourself!?” Joseph
threw a wrinkled newspaper at my face.
Catching
it before it hit me, I quickly scanned the front page. As I read, a grin forced its way over my
features. Trying desperately to stop
smiling (so as not to make Joseph even more angry) I exclaimed, “They are
calling me ‘Moses’! How cool is that?!”
“I
ask again, are you trying to die?”
“No,
why?”
Joseph’s
face took on a crimson shade and he growled, “Why? Maybe because this is now
the third county with a warrant out for your arrest! How long can you keep this up before you get
killed?!”
“I’m
only twenty-one. My goal is five
counties by the time I’m thirty. Think
I’ll make the deadline?”
“Don’t
say things like that! You shouldn't have
a stupid goal like that. Why are you
doing this? This isn't the path you
should be following.”
Looking
at him sadly, I sighed. “Joseph, what
was I supposed to do? Leave those kids
to die? Leave them to be sold over and
over again from hostel to hostel? Twenty
kids were rescued. The oldest is
seventeen. Three of them were only six
years old. So tell me again that I shouldn't do this.”
“Why
can’t you rescue kids in countries where child trafficking is illegal? It happens all over, you could choose to go
to any of those countries. Why here? It’s
legal here. So now there is a warrant
out for your arrest on the grounds that you were stealing other people’s
property. This is the third country in a
row! Why is it that the only countries
you go to are ones that allow it? Why?”
Moving
to the window, I brushed aside the curtain and gazed out at the gathering
dusk. “Remember in seventh grade when we
both said that child trafficking was wrong and we would dedicate our lives to
saving these children? We swore a pact
that day and have lived for it ever since.
But now I realize that we are two very different people. I will admit that I have a problem. When my life is in danger I get a rush. I love adventure, I love living on the edge,
I love being infamous and having people who want to kill me for doing what is
right. It excites me, and I realize that
there is something wrong with that. But
you must realize that there is something wrong with you too. You are afraid to do what must be done,
afraid that you will die during a mission, afraid of getting caught. We are two different ends of the
spectrum. But instead of balancing each
other out, we act like two oppositely charged magnets, pushing against each
other and unable to reach a middle point.
I love you Joseph, I always have.
But it is time we part ways. Go
to countries where you can do this work without breaking the law. I will stay here and continue doing what must
be done. I don’t care if I break the law
in the process, but I must do what I know is right.”
Tears
glistened in my friend’s eyes as he sadly stated, “Well, I guess this is
good-bye.”
He
stuck out his hand but I ignored it and wrapped my arms around his neck
instead. “I’ll miss you Joseph.”
“I’ll
miss you too. Stay safe, then again… I
know you won’t, so never mind.” Without
looking back, my dear friend and colleague, the person who had stayed by my
side since seventh grade, left the safe house and traveled down the road. Without regret and without dwelling on our
past together, he left me. I never saw
him again.
After
Joseph was out of sight, I let out a saddened sigh and strode into the
adjoining room. Gently, I shook the
children awake.
“Get
up.” I whispered, “It’s time to move on. We must leave now as the dark is gathering.”
When
they had all managed to drag themselves off of the thin straw pallets they had
been sleeping on, I joined hands with the youngest girl, Joy, who was barely
six years old. My other hand grasped Xíwàng’s
before she could wander off and get lost. Xíwàng’s name is Chinese for
hope. Her name is a reminder for her
since the small twelve year old child had been blinded recently when one of her
customers had clawed her eyes in
anger.
Twenty-one
of us set out into the growing dusk.
Twenty kids, three of which were pregnant, one who was blind, five who had
been starved until they were barely skeletons covered in thin skin, seven who
had lost fingers or toes to the huge machines in the factories, four with AIDS,
and all who had been scarred by the horrors they had witnessed and been
subjected to.
Traveling
by night and hiding by day. Only
fourteen of those kids made it to safety.
There are always casualties during these rescues, some just can’t make
the journey. But they would rather die
on the run then live in slavery. For
nine years I continued traveling, alone, to the most dangerous places in the
world to try and rescue child slaves, the places where it is still legal. So no one was surprised when a couple weeks
after my thirtieth birthday, I was struck by a stray bullet shot by our
pursuers and died soon after. I had
commenced successful raids on hostels in twelve countries and had warrants out
for my arrest in seven. I had
accomplished my goal after all.
Some
people want to play life safe, be careful and live longer. I’m not one of those people. To be careful is to miss opportunities and in
my work, to miss opportunities is often at the cost of many lives. I know that there is something wrong with me
to think this way. But I know what I can
handle. And I can handle going home
(dying). Death is just another adventure
and if you haven’t figured it out by now, I love adventure.
