"I don't get it." Ray looked across his desk at Amy. "For four years you've worked harder than anyone I know and you've had more success than I would ever have imagined. Now you just want to throw it all away?"
As she listened Amy looked around Ray's office at the various pictures on the walls. His office was nothing special and certainly wasn't what Ray had been used to as a corporate executive. The furniture was a mismatched collection of donated items and all of it, along with Ray, fit in a twelve by fifteen foot room. Ray, at nearly four hundred pounds, accounted for a significant portion of what filled the space. Despite his weight though, he was otherwise healthy and had more energy than almost anyone else in the mission and probably more than any two combined.
The pictures, some framed, many not, were all of Ray standing with various dignitaries. Amy had once snuck in while everyone was at a conference and looked at every one of them. Hidden among them she'd found pictures of Ray with 4 governors, several congressmen, one congresswoman, President's Reagan and Clinton, Billy Graham, and former Russian president Mikhail Gorbochev.
The other 400 though are the ones that mattered to Ray. They're the people he'd first met when they appeared at the mission as drunks or drug addicts. They're the people who today are no longer addicts and who, for the most part, have jobs and work hard.
"We've had some success." Amy agreed, getting back to their conversation. "But have we had the success we should have?" she asked.
"Amy, you've helped over 30 women successfully get off drugs and out of prostitution." Ray said. "And you've done that in 4 years... That's astounding... by any measure."
"Yea, we've reached what, maybe 1%?" Amy replied dejectedly. "And really not even that. What about the other 99% that we're not doing anything for? I can't stand it anymore. I can't stand knowing what's going on and not do anything about it."
"You can't fix every problem in the world Amy, you know that." Ray replied. "I wish we could make every problem go away, but we can't. At least once a week and sometimes multiple times a day I see someone strung out on drugs or passed out on the sidewalk completely snockered. I know where they're headed. I used to talk to every single one, but I soon realized that if they don't want the help there's nothing I can do. All I can do is be here for them when they're ready. And sadly, most never are."
"This is different and you know it." Amy replied with some anger creeping into her voice. "I'm not talking about people who don't want the help. I'm talking about changing a system that abuses innocent people, completely ignores reality, common sense and the entire history of mankind on this earth. A system that wastes tax money and resources that could otherwise provide some real benefit."
"That's a pretty strong statement." Ray said. "Can you back all of that up?"
"You know I can." Amy shot back testily. "And so can you. I heard the speech you gave to the board about hiring Linea."
"You're right." Ray said knowing that he'd made the wrong argument. He was adamantly opposed to prostitution, but he knew that the legal system was not the way to deal with it, and perhaps more important, knew that trying to abolish it in the first place was a bad idea. The latter an issue that he'd wrestled with for a few decades. "Think about it this way. In the past four years, starting almost from scratch, you've developed a program that's helped over 30 women get off drugs and out of prostitution and you've helped another 17 get off drugs. That's 47 people who's lives you've permanently changed for the better. And think about all the others you've impacted. How many women have you helped learn to manage their lives and finances better? Probably a hundred or so in whom you've seen a noticeable improvement and countless others who've been impacted less dramatically. You've accomplished all of this with less than a half million bucks a year. The city spent over eight million last year alone on prostitution and what do they have to show for it? Nothing... 1600 arrests and as best I can tell every single one went right back to what they were doing. I'm not sure you realize what a huge impact you're having. Don't stop now. Not when things are going so well."
"The city does have something to show for it." Amy replied angrily. "I can't even count the number of women who've been beaten up or raped because they can't go to the cops. How about several hundred kids who are forced into working as prostitutes and the bastards who do it to them are protected because the entire industry is driven underground? Let's see if we can figure out how many times we've seen people turned down for jobs because of an arrest record for prostitution. You don't have enough fingers and toes. Then we'll add in all of the people who are kidnapped, raped, robbed, or hurt because the cops were busy busting a prostitute or john in the local hotel instead of dealing with real crimes. Oh, they've got something to show for it alright."
Continued below...
Ray just stared at Amy. He knew she was strong willed, but he'd never seen her quite like this before. He didn't disagree with anything she'd said or with what she wanted to do; he just didn't want her to be the one to do it. He didn't want her to leave the mission and most of all he was concerned for her well being if she fought this fight.
"I know all these problems won't go away just because we change the laws, but you and I both know, as do many cops and politicians, that the real problems will be significantly reduced and all of the problems will be easier to deal with." She added as she calmed down. "Trying to outlaw prostitution is just incredibly stupid."
"Have you given any consideration to the battle you're entering and the potential consequences?" Ray asked, changing his approach. "You know word will spread faster than political denials during a scandal and you're sure to see your name on the front page of the paper the very minute you do anything." He paused. "The outrage in Atlanta and probably nation-wide will be second only to Janet Jackson's halftime show." He paused again and then looked deep into Amy's eyes. "You'll get some nasty treatment from a lot of people... Are you up for that?"
Ray kept looking into Amy's eyes. He knew the answer and realized that all he'd really accomplished was to galvanize her determination.
"I am." Amy replied quietly but with complete confidence.
--------------
As she walked across the street to her office in the women's center Amy felt a tear flow down her cheek. She knew that it was both sadness in leaving the mission before she was really ready and happiness about the new path she was embarking on. It was also, and perhaps most of all, fear. She was leaving the comfort of a supportive organization that had become her second family and venturing into the unknown. And she was doing it alone. She'd given some thought to the battle that she faced, but Ray had shined a spotlight on it like she never had. For the first time she realized how ugly things might get. Was she really ready for this?
Walking through the large gathering room where she'd held so many meetings with so many women she completely broke down. After tonight she'd likely never come in the center again. On a rational level she knew why Ray had, as a final request, asked her to not visit the mission and preferably not to even associate with anyone from the there. Money was tight and they both knew that some of the larger donors would stop their contributions if it were viewed that the mission had any involvement in what she was about to do. He'd also brought up the issue that some of the people entering the program might be confused. She understood his rationale and even agreed with it, but it still hurt. She felt like she'd been kicked out of her family. And, in a sense, she had been.
She closed her office door before anyone could see that she'd come in. She unpacked the binders from a box that had been delivered earlier by a printer and began filling the box with her stuff. The first box filled she did the same with a second and then a third. The fourth and final box she began to fill with the pictures on her wall. There were a couple of pictures of her family, one of her with Ray and a couple of she and Linea making faces. Next was a picture of Linea's sister Christy. Christy had a Dr. Evil expression on her face as she pretended to clean scared-to-death Ray's teeth after Christy'd finished her first year of hygienist school. There were 52 more following Christy. Girls and Women who'd made it through the program.
Amy had gained a well-earned reputation for sneaking up on people with her camera. The pictures that adorned her walls were candid shots she'd gained as a result. A few had expressions of terror on their faces realizing what Amy was doing. Most, though, were grinning and laughing - realizing only too late that Amy was pointing the camera at them.
As she put these final pictures away she thought about the women currently in the program and then about all of the women who hadn't yet come. A part of her felt like she was letting them down and perhaps in some ways she was. The mission would keep going without her though. The staff was terrific and Linea would always be here to keep everyone's feet on the ground. What she was doing would, if she succeeded, have a much greater impact. She knew it in her head and was slowly beginning to realize it in her heart.
She turned out the light in her office and snuck out the back door. Ray promised to have someone bring the boxes to her apartment the next morning.
####
-- Modified on 2/14/2004 6:11:26 AM
Are you not getting the story? Something else?
If you have any thoughts for improvement, please let me know.
I was just being facetious!I actually went back to read my post and I just saw that I modified it to nothingness.
As for your story, I just happened to "super" speed read through it beyond any comprehension, searching for the "good" parts.Afterall;this being the erotic review board and all,
I was looking for some "adult" reading material and "I didn't get it"...sort of like right church but "no pews at all", if you get my drift. So in frustration,I posted my subject line.
To those who do get it, be my guest.