Chapter 23

<<She’s baacck!>> JanusFlyTrap tweets. I tweet. Me. I’m back.

I follow Paradise57’s link.

Assured Reconstruction! reads the title of my Kickstarter campaign. I’m gripping the laptop screen.

There’s a video followed by text.

 

On December 11th, the Assured Destruction recycling facility burned due to arson. It’s the home and life of the Rose family. The insurance company won’t pay for repairs. And the Rose family needs your help.

 

It goes on to explain the services we’ve offered for years. Plus how I once served as a consultant to the police department’s High Tech Crime Unit. And am a regular volunteer “dish coordinator” and “food inspector” at a local soup kitchen. LOL. Nothing like leveraging my forced community service to show my good nature.

 

Mother Rose suffers from MS and is currently in the hospital—my mom won’t like this—as is the fire-injured Janus, her daughter, who is recovering. Okay, it’s worse than that. She’s in shock, a zombie. And like the stray cats Janus feeds, both she and her mother have nowhere to turn. They need your help.

 

Jonny’s laying it on thick, but I’m glad he mentioned the cats; hopefully it means he’s taking care of them.

I click on the video and gasp.

The camera pans the wreckage of Assured Destruction. I knew it would be bad, but nothing like this.

“Thanks for listening to our Kickstarter campaign,” Jonny says onscreen, dressed in a blue parka, and holding the camera out as far as he can. I can tell by his red cheeks that it’s so cold.

All the store windows are shattered, even several on the second floor. Icicles hang like teeth over a blackened maw. The camera jiggles as Jonny approaches the former front door and steps through the broken frame, ducking under police tape.

There are advantages to our no-frills existence. The walls are mostly cinderblock so although blackened, they look reparable. Can Chop-chop be saved? It’s covered in soot. Our counters are fried, but the charred conveyor appears functional. Boots crunch over glass. The rafters are steel. Doesn’t fire strengthen steel? The worst damage is at the front of the shop, mostly wood and glass, and the center where whatever was used to set the fire had exploded. Here, water and ash froze into icy puddles of black mud.

The camera continues on into the warehouse, showing the relatively untouched racks and staging area. I shudder as we enter the fire exit stairwell, skin itching at the remembered heat. Upstairs, all the furniture is sopping and tinted with smoke. In fact, the water and smoke damage are what make Assured Destruction unliveable. Everywhere frost and ice glazes the surfaces.

Jonny continues: “With your support, we can clear all the damaged furnishing and rebuild the storefront and its counters. It’ll be a lot of work but we have the people who want to help.”

The video cuts to a series of brief interviews.

“Without Jan, I don’t think I’d be alive today.” Hannah—Child Predator Survivor, reads the subtitle. “I went into a building ready to kill and to die. With Janus’s help, I came out knowing I had at least one friend. Maybe even something more. Reborn.”

I’m glad to see Hannah okay.

“Jan scares me a little.” Ellie—Class President. “She’s kind of that person you know you should be more like, but don’t want to be because it would be hard, you know?”

My fist hurts where I’m biting it.

“When I’m training for a swim meet, and I don’t want to finish practice …” Karl—High Performance Athlete. “I think of Jan and how she struggles to help her family and about everything she’s gone through and yet still is always there with a snarky remark to make me laugh. Then I dive back in again.”

I start to cry.

“Jan doesn’t make fun of me. It’s as simple as that,” Harry says. “I’m a short Greek Jewish kid with an afro and an affinity for video gaming, chess, and RPGs. There’s plenty to make fun of.”

His subtitle reads: Short Greek Kid With Afro and too Many Letters in his Last Name.

I burst out laughing.

“Miss Rose is a talented programmer who, if given the chance, can make a real difference in our world. She could be a force for good.” Chippy—Computer Science Teacher. “Don’t call me Chippy, muh!”

“Jan reminds me of myself when I was young.” Detective Williams—Ottawa Police Department. “Except I had more mentorship. I wasn’t able to be there for Janus when she needed me. Maybe I can be now.”

Jonny’s back and he’s turned the camera on his face.

“Some people wanted to be here but couldn’t due to challenges of not being human, so they’ve offered tweets of support.”

A fly-through of various tweets begins and I giggle.

Jan’s like a mom to me. Frannie Mouthwater. Maybe a big sister. Always there to clean up my barf.

When I want to play chess, and ya know, geek out, Jan’s there. Always. Hairy.

I don’t know what it is, but when I think Jan, I think superhero mash-up with haute couture and—bam! Inspiration! Tule.

Jan’s the change I wish to see in the world. Gumps.

Jan fills my mouth with vitriol. How many more reasons does one need to love another? Heckleena adds.

Jan’s the Eve in my paradise. Paradise57.

Jonny’s back: “So what do you say, great Interweb? We’ve got the hands; help us pay for materials and assure the reconstruction of Jan and her mother’s home and business this cold winter. Besides, who can turn down these perks?”

I glance over to the perks as the video ends.

For a one-dollar pledge you receive a heckle from Heckleena or an inspirational quote from Gumps.

Tule has offered a fashion tip for five dollars. “Because you’re worth it.”

Also for a fiver, Harry will evaluate the Feng Shui of your blog. Say what?

Twenty-five dollars buys you a short poem from Hannah. Really, Hannah? I’m learning a lot about people today.

Trin is selling a limited quantity of scarves for twenty dollars each. Aw, Trin, you really didn’t have to do this.

Ellie is willing to help you with your colors and act as your personal shopper for a day for fifty dollars.

Also for fifty dollars, Ottawa police officer Ethan will teach a karate class, online or off. Ethan! I don’t believe it.

Or fifty dollars can earn you a small graffiti sketch by Jonny.

One hundred buys you a mural.

Chippy will help your computer run faster for one hundred dollars.

I laugh hard at that one.

For fifty, Karl is willing to give a swimming lesson anywhere in the city. Since he’s wearing nothing but a Speedo in his video interview, this one will sell out quickly!

Everyone who contributes receives a coupon for half-off hard-drive destruction. For ten dollars more you get to run the shredder yourself.

I’m pretty sure Jonny came up with this last idea. Self-serve assured destruction.

I stare up at the ceiling and blink back tears. I guess I never realized that I had so many friends. Tweets are flying on Twitter and I have to admit; my unauthorized surrogates are doing a better job than I do. Others are retweeting and favoriting. The first pledge is made: one dollar for a heckle.

I bet @Vonnywrites’s brain feels as good as new, Heckleena tweets. And Vonnywrites retweets it, saying, Hey, check this out. And includes a link.

It’s one dollar toward the ten-thousand-dollar campaign. Not much, but it’s a start.

Wait. I clap my hands and press them against my chest. Make that fifty-one dollars; Karl’s got a date with a swimming lesson.

Something in my heart releases, a spasm maybe, or a knotted chord that took time to loosen. I don’t care if the whole thing doesn’t work—okay, maybe I care a little. But more importantly, I have friends. Real friends. And they’re helping me, whether I like it or not.