G Hopf: Sanctuary

“I agree, that’s why I’m so excited about your perspective. I do have some questions I’d like to ask before we get back to where we left off, if you don’t mind,” John said as he was fumbling with his digital recorder.

Haley was amazed by how he had changed since Friday morning. The formerly confident reporter seemed a little less smug, and much more hesitant. She believed that this story needed to be told, but she knew that as a reporter, he had selfish reasons. This story—her story—would sell a lot of newspapers. Waiting for him to get ready, she glanced out the large picture window. Winter appeared to be making an early arrival as she watched snow flurries fall from the gray sky.

“It’s snowing,” Haley said.

“What?” John asked, his head down as he was reading over his questions.

“I didn’t know it was going to snow today,” Haley said.

“Yeah, it was in the forecast today and tomorrow. This is supposed to be a big storm.”

“Hmm, well what do you know. I’m ready when you are,” Haley said, her attention now back on John.

“Sure, okay. I hope this doesn’t come off as an odd question, but as I was listening to Friday’s interview something rather important struck me,” John said. He lifted his head from his notes and eyed her curiously. “How do you know all of these details? More specifically, how do you know the details about Pablo and Colonel Barone or even Brad Conner?”

Haley didn’t flinch or blink an eye to the question. Others might have thought it questioned her integrity, but she did not.

Haley smiled. “I’m sorry if my smile seems out of place, but I was just talking with someone about this. Many years ago, my father sat me down and told me his story. At the time, I wasn’t sure why he chose to share these things. But I now know why he did so those many years ago, why he exposed me to some very difficult, very gritty things. It’s as if he wanted me to be his messenger.”

John cocked his head, squinting.

“Over time, many have become indifferent to how our country came to be.” Haley said. “Peace and prosperity don’t spring forth naturally out of chaos. Good people sometimes must use violence to secure a stable existence; they sometimes have to be as violent and ruthless as those wishing to impose the chains of slavery and servitude. We hear theories of how we can negotiate with groups or individuals who understand nothing but evil.” Haley paused again. She understood that her father did things that some considered no different than what they were fighting against.

“It’s so easy for you and others who question my father’s actions,” Haley said, her tone turning accusatory.

“Excuse me?” John asked. He was taken aback.

“My father told me his story because he knew people would judge him. You asked how I know all of this? It’s because my father knew or met all of the people we have talked about so far. He collected these stories himself along the way. A man doesn’t ascend to the presidency of the Republic by mistake. My father wasn’t perfect by any means, but he sacrificed dearly so that you and I could have what we have.” She raised her eyebrows.

“Haley, I never meant to offend you. I never…”

She interrupted him. “I don’t mean to point you out specifically. But many people cast judgment. It’s the power of hindsight. Even today, we live under a threat that could destroy what we have built. There are some people out there who think if we just talk out issues, we can resolve them. Let me tell you from experience: If your opponent is willing to brutally murder thousands of men, women, and children, with their end goal being conquest, you can’t negotiate with them.” Haley’s voice was getting increasingly angry, her face now flushed.

“Haley, if I said something that has upset you, please accept my apology,” John said urgently, concerned that the interview was heading in a different direction than he intended.

“I need to get this out. I’ve held this in for so long. I read and listen to this almost every day now. Daddy told me a quote from George Orwell long ago: ‘People sleep quietly in their beds at night only because rough men stand ready to do violence in their names.’ This is how it has always been. Our generation gave you a land, a republic from which to live a peaceful existence. A place from where all are created equal and all have opportunity. Then many in your generation question how it came to be because some of the actions along the way didn’t fit nicely and neatly into a box of morality. You only have the opportunity to have this type of morality because you’ve never had to truly fight for it. You never had to make a truly tough decision, one where people could actually die.”

“I’m sorry to sound ignorant, but where is this coming from?” John was shocked that the mild-mannered woman he met with last week could be whipped into such a fury.

Haley took a deep breath. “I’ve sat in the shadows for a long time. Now, thanks to you, I can express how and why this republic was formed. You want to know it all? I will tell you every dirty detail. All of your readers will know many bled to give birth to this land we now call our home. I first lost my innocence, I then lost my brother, but that was just the beginning.” Haley stood and walked to the large picture window, staring out at the swirling snow.

John sat frozen, unsure of how to proceed. He looked down at his recorder to ensure it had been on during her long monologues. Seeing the bright red light on his recorder, he breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

“John, I’m not sorry for getting… vocal. I just felt…”

“It’s okay, Haley. I know this has to be tough,” John said. He fought back the urge to question her outburst. In some ways, he felt like her diatribe was a personal attack against him. After all, he wrote a column for the Cascadian Times and had penned a few Op-ed pieces over the years that questioned some of the tactics deployed during the Great Civil War, specifically those used by Gordon Van Zandt. He suspected that what he just witnessed was Haley’s response to those pieces.

Haley turned and looked at John squarely. “Thank you, John. Thank you for giving me the platform to tell this story.”

“You’re welcome, really.”

“I’m sure you’re ready for me to quit all of this bloviating and to get back to the story,” Haley said with a slight grin.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

Haley walked back to her chair and sat down. She smoothed out the creases in her skirt and said, “I think we left off with my father finding…”

John interrupted her. “Yes, the woman and her son.”

“Oh, yes, they were traveling together. That day was not unlike today, snowing so hard that Daddy couldn’t see the road ahead of him.”

“When was this?” John asked, leaning forward.

“February twenty-second, 2015. What happened that day changed everything.”

“Damn it!” Gordon barked.

Snow was coming down heavily. Visibility was becoming impossible and the car he was driving was not equipped to handle the conditions. He knew he had to get off the road and find a place for them to camp out.

Brittany shot him a sideways glance. “How about you slow down, Gordon? No use in rushing in this weather.”

Gordon shot her an irritated glance but it soon melted away.

He thought many times of that day weeks ago when he heard Tyler scream for help. His initial urge was to move on, but after what had happened to Hunter he couldn’t walk away from a child in need. Gordon and Brittany both had their own selfish reasons for partnering up. She had an operational vehicle, and he could find a safe place for her and Tyler. This partnership became more than just a simple arrangement after they’d spent weeks on the road together. They truly cared for each other. Being put in a life-or-death situation could elicit those feelings in people.