The Labyrinth Campaign Read Free

the rest.”
    “Jack, you can’t live their lives for them; all you can do is tell your real friends how you feel.”
    “I know, but what’s this world coming to? Drugs on every street corner in every neighborhood in America, air pollution choking the environment. The people of the world better wake up soon, or we’re all fucked.”
    “Wow, Jack, you are getting old,” Shea said. “You were the star of the game this afternoon, and tonight, instead of reliving that play a hundred and fifty times like you would have last year, you’re discussing the world’s problems.”
    Jack looked at her and grinned.
    Later, as Jack and Shea lay in bed, Jack realized he still had serious thoughts running through his mind. Drugs … nuclear threats. “I can’t believe I’ve been so stupid, Shea. I’ve done coke lots of times, when I know it has the potential to kill me at any moment.”
    “Jack, everyone is doing it, and I haven’t heard of anyone dying in Boulder from too much coke.”
    “That’s not the point, Shea. All it takes is one person, even an athlete with a heart problem, and bam! The heart explodes. And you know what that means.”
    “Yeah, it means you’re being overly dramatic,” Shea said. They both laughed.
    “But seriously, Shea—”
    “Hey, Jack. Can we stop saving the world and go to sleep? Or better yet, fool around?”
    “Now that’s an issue we can both agree on.” She giggled and turned out the light.
    The next morning, as they lay asleep in each other’s arms, Jack’s bedside phone rang. He sleepily fumbled to pick up the receiver. “Hello.”
    “Jack, it’s Dave.” Dave was Charlie’s roommate at the Delta Phi house.
    “No, Dave, I can’t pick you guys up for breakfast; I’ve got plans,” Jack said as he stroked Shea’s long, brown hair.
    “That’s not why I’m calling, man. I’ve got some bad news. Charlie died last night, Jack.”
    Jack bolted upright in bed as if he’d been touched by a hot cattle prod.
    “He overdosed on cocaine, Jack. We found him this morning. I’m sorry to be the one to tell you. I know how close you two were.”
    Jack silently hung up the phone, and his head fell into his hands. He was too stunned to cry. But his course was set, he realized. The thoughtshe had the night before suddenly crystallized into a hardened resolve: Drugs and the people who dealt them were the enemy that would bring this country to its knees.
    Then the grief came: heavy sobs from deep down in his belly.
    “God, Charlie, I miss you already.”

three
    [Twenty years later]
    T he two men squared off, ready for battle, the student and the instructor. This particular student provided a rare challenge for the aging Tae Kwon Do instructor. As the two sparred, it was apparent that the student had keenly developed his skills. Quick, well-placed blows to his face and body quickly had the instructor retreating. The crowd of students seated around the ring watched in awe and envy as Jack McCarthy continued his relentless pursuit of the martial arts instructor who had pummeled him so many times. Following an exchange of blows that Jack had clearly won, the instructor raised both arms in the air, signaling the end of the match. Jack was elated. He’d never had so much success against such a worthy opponent.
    As the instructor gathered the class for his final words of wisdom before dismissing them, he said, “I have a special announcement today. Jack McCarthy is ready for the next step. I am hereby awarding him a black belt.”
    Jack was stunned by the announcement. The rest of the class erupted in a loud cacophony of applause and screams. Jack, however, was silent. He never had any intention of being a black belt. He began his martialarts training to stay in shape; his knees were too battered from football to continue a heavy schedule of running, and a friend at work had turned him on to the mental and physical attributes of martial arts. This was truly a special moment for him.
    After