One Great Year (42 page)

“Why, so you can boss me around?” Quinn said, laughing, and she laughed too, enjoying his smile. “You're going to have to deal with a lot of skepticism … you ready for that?”

“I'm ready. There's nothing wrong with good opposition, it can make us stronger … you know, ramp up our game. It's not the criticism or the questioning I mind, it's the bold-faced lying and abusive garbage,” Eden admitted.

“Aw, people are pretty smart, at least the ones you have any hope of reaching,” Quinn assured.

“We're trying to reach everybody, and unfortunately the naysayers and rumor mongers are pros, and they come across as trustworthy and concerned about child exploitation. Maybe they are. Maybe they just don't understand what we're doing. They're just not open to it … I can't fault them for being on their own path.”

“You can never fault anybody. Have you blocked that guy who was swearing and abusing you on your blog yet?” Quinn asked protectively.

“If I block him, I look like I have something to hide. I'd rather show both sides, the duality, so everyone knows what we're up against.”

“Yeah, that's actually a good argument, but don't let it go too far,” Quinn conceded.

“Are we ever really gonna get this done, Max? I seriously feel like I'm running out of time … that's why I am bugging you so much,” she lied. They both eagerly looked forward to their blog and video conferencing time together.

“Patience. It'll happen. As long as you're working toward it and envisioning where you want to go, you'll get there.”

“
We'll
get there,” she corrected. “We're partners in this, aren't we?”

“Partners. Yeah, we are,” Quinn said. They had been so much—so many combinations and complications—and he wanted to be more than her partner in this life.

“It takes so much money to accomplish anything these days. What if we do all this work and no one sees it?” Eden said.

“I wish I could help you there, but I pretty much always worked just enough to live, travel, and take care of myself. Money's never been a focus for me.”

“I didn't mean …” she began, the odd delay in the video conferencing chopping and overlapping their thoughts.

“No, I know. We're doing it for the right reason. The Universe takes care of those working in service to it. Ugh, I sound like a flake. Let's just say: Have faith, it'll all work out.”

“I know, you're right,” she said, smiling.

“Where are you headed now?” Quinn asked, aware that she was Skyping him from the Sydney airport lounge.

“Christchurch, New Zealand, got added to our schedule unexpectedly. This keeps happening—everyone knows someone else amazing. It's quite a connected little grid. We find five kids when we expect to meet only one.”

Quinn smiled at Eden's use of the word “grid.” It was all the Grid, the great pattern, visible and invisible, weaving in every direction, shape, and speed, connecting everything.

“Are things okay there, they had that earthquake a while back?”

“Yep, things are okay … aftershocks, but nothing I am too worried about. Hey, I gotta go now. I have so many notes to finish up and we fly out in an hour. Elijah's itching to get on here and talk to some friends,” she said.

“Have fun in New Zealand, it's gorgeous. Be safe,” Quinn added as her image waved, blinked, and disappeared from his monitor.

Excruciating. Was it more painful not knowing where, when, or how Theron would appear, or knowing exactly where she was and being unable to have her?
Quinn contemplated the question as he smoked a joint and threw himself into a particularly brooding blog entry.

When Quinn woke late the next morning, the news channels were transmitting tsunami warnings for New Zealand, the west coast of North America, and all of the smaller lands in between. Another in a string of devastating, high-magnitude earthquakes had hit Japan overnight. The television and Internet were full of video and panic but little detail.

When he heard the tsunami warning for Christchurch, Quinn tried unsuccessfully to reach Eden and Nate. There was nothing, no email from them, no message, and Quinn felt ill. He didn't leave his computer for hours, and he was relieved when he finally read a general Facebook entry from Eden, assuring all of her friends and family that she and Elijah were safe.

Relieved, Quinn jumped in the shower. He was interrupted mid-suds by a slow rumble and sway. At first he was disoriented, thinking he was off balance and too consumed with earthquake images from the net. As the motion intensified, the bottles and shelves began to crash around him. There was no time to think, but there was no need. Marcus had lived through many times and tragedies. Quinn was incapable of panic, though adrenaline flowed through his body as it would for anyone.

A terrifying sound reverberated through the air and, as the earth violently bucked, it reawakened a host of ancient memories in him. Quinn stumbled out of the shower and steadied himself under the doorway, while the ground continued to shake violently. He felt as though he were a young child, lifted and shaken by strong adult arms.

Naked and cold, Quinn was growing more alarmed; the trembling was extreme and was lasting too long. He was certain it was causing devastation and death. His was an old building and low, not a skyscraper. Downtown buildings would be swaying, crumbling, and dropping tons of glass and brick to the sidewalks below. Quinn said a prayer for the victims and the loved ones they would leave behind.

Finally the shaking subsided and Quinn sidestepped the broken glass at his feet; his cologne lay shattered. He pulled on his jeans and was awed by the destruction in his apartment. The large gilt mirror once secured behind his bed had ripped away from its anchors, dropping onto his headboard and shattering where he had lain sleeping only hours before. He shuddered to think that his new beginning with Theron might have ended that abruptly.

Books were in heaps on the floor, emptied from shelves and tables, joining the many that had been there in piles before the quake. The kitchen was a mess. Most of the cupboards had fallen open and spilled their contents onto the floor.

Quinn flicked the lights. No power. He thought of his battery-powered radio … somewhere. As he began to search for it, the ground once again began to shake. He heard an ominous ripping sound as an opening to the outdoors was cleaved into the plaster of the apartment's southern wall. The building was collapsing. Quinn knew he had to get the hell out. There was no time. He found shoes and moved stealthily into the outside corridor, shirtless and stumbling under the power of a second tremor.

The earth continued shaking, more violently than the first time, and Quinn rushed to the aid of his neighbor, who was also trying to escape. The young mother had two crying babies in tow, and they were being thrown mercilessly about as she struggled to regain her footing. Her knees were bloody and scraped, and a third child, of about six years, was fighting to stay in the crumbling apartment, too terrified to leave. He was planted firmly on his bottom, his cheek pressed to the doorjamb, his eyes squeezed shut. The desperate woman's arms were loaded with the two wailing siblings, and the boy was immovable as she begged him to release his hold. Quinn swooped in and picked up the older child, easily loosening his grip.

“I gotcha, buddy. I gotcha, hang on to me,” Quinn said calmly, over the screech of fire alarms and wailing babies. The boy attached to him like a monkey to a branch and buried his face in Quinn's neck. “This way, this way!” Quinn commanded, supporting the young mother with his free hand and guiding her to the distant stairwell. He had seen the south side of the building listing and crumbling; he hoped the stairs on the north were still passable.

Once safely clear of the wreckage, Quinn left the traumatized young family lying in the grass a hundred yards from the building, grateful that the May weather was warm and dry. He rushed back to see what further help he could offer.

Neighbors were clamoring about, though many were away at work, which sadly may have proven fatal for them. The second tremor had ended, and the sobs and calls continued as Quinn cautiously re-entered the building, knocking on doors and making certain there were no unattended victims.

The building was ruined, completely unsafe, but thankfully there had been no deaths in his small patch. Sirens, smoke, and alarms were ominous in the distance, and no one expected medical attention any time soon. Keys, coat, laptop, and wallet in hand, Quinn sat in his car and listened to the alarming satellite reports of the damage to the Pacific Northwest.

The entire west coast from San Diego to Alaska had felt the quake. Seattle was in discord, even though the epicenter of the 8.0-magnitude quake had struck hundreds of miles north, hitting Vancouver Island, Canada, directly. The large Canadian island and the smaller surrounding islands had been completely devastated, and tsunami tides threatened inhabitants on both sides of the Pacific Ocean.

It was Eden and Nate's turn to worry. They didn't eat or sleep as they watched reports coming out of North America with horror. Finally, seven hours later, they learned via email that Max Quinn had survived.

Sadly, more than six thousand had died when office buildings, hospitals, shopping malls, and schools had been damaged. There had been looting in places, especially the big cities, but in many instances people had acted with surprising generosity and brotherhood.

For some, the tragedy had reawakened them to what was truly important. Obsessions with video games, handbags, and bigger and better cars were replaced by the appreciation for friends and family, charity, compassion, and the love of their fellow human beings.

Suddenly there was more to life … and less. Simplicity: an epiphany. A light went on and people wondered how they could have missed what it was all about. How could they have lived so robotically, in a fog, unconscious? The spiritual world is necessarily separate from the material world.

The bigger question was, would they remain conscious or would they slip back to their old patterns?

Over the next two months, the aftershocks continued and rebuilding commenced. Quinn couldn't help but think the Earth was voicing its displeasure. Plato had discussed the idea of anima mundi, the world soul. Would things get worse before they finally got better?

Eden's initial instinct had been to return to the Pacific Northwest immediately and assist with the cleanup. Quinn had spent hours debating and counseling her in her helplessness, but he had ultimately convinced her that the Crystal Project was now more important for the unification of people than ever. The citizens of the world needed to see the human potential that the children would exhibit. They needed to know what was possible and that there was a brighter future ahead.

Finally, Eden resumed interviewing the Crystal Children, meeting more wherever she went. Across the oceans people were detached from the turmoil in North America, and though they felt sympathy for the misfortunes of their distant neighbors, they had their own hardships to contend with. The headlines changed and the “Great American Quake” was quickly old news.

Life continued, as it always had, only harder and more uncertain by the day. Man-made disasters like civil wars and riots were becoming the norm, and countries that had been living in Mafia states for a long time were getting worse. In places like Mexico, Ukraine, Russia, and Serbia people trusted no one. Only money and power had a voice. Governments and police were corrupt. Students had to pay under the table for the opportunity to take their exams, and babies in daycare only had their diapers changed if their parents paid extra. People were miserable and enslaved, and charity and compassion were uncommon or hidden from view.

Quinn wished that the ascent through the Bronze Age could be sped up; sometimes it felt as though the Dark Age had somehow been extended.

It was an important time for Eden and Elijah. For the first time, the boy didn't feel isolated and abnormal. Instead, he felt that he had been chosen to do something important in the world. Eden quelled his natural tendency to grow proud and self-important by reminding him to stay humble and compassionate. It was a struggle.