“I am not some…I don’t even know what you’re saying.”
“A natural born leader.”
“Right, I’m not that.”
“Really?” Merl laughs loudly. “You’re on the leadership council of a large international vigilante network, Sydney, named after you and inspired by your example.”
“First of all, I am not a fan of the name and you know that. Second, the thing I do like about Joyful Justice is we are not the leaders. We are the facilitators. People come to us. We don’t go looking for problems to solve. And we don’t solve the problems either. We just do what we can to help people solve their own problems. I’m not a savior, Merl, and I don’t want to be one.”
“No.” Merl’s grin stays in place. “You’re not a savior. I’ll grant you that. But you have saved a person a time or two…”
“Shut up. I’ve done what anyone would do.” Merl belly laughs at that one, he laughs so hard that he stops walking again and actually puts his hands on his knees. “Maybe I should think about becoming a comic,” I mutter.
Frank races over and circles Merl once before licking his face. Chula thunders down the beach and slams into Frank, the two of them rolling away in a chaos of black and white fur and sand. “Sorry,” Merl holds up a hand as if to keep me at bay. “You’re just so…”
“Don’t bother finishing that sentence.” I turn away and continue down the beach. Nila races over to me, her tongue out and excitement lighting her gaze. Her wet nose swipes at my fingers, checking on me. “I’m fine.” I smile down at her. “You go play.” She waits another beat but when Michael barks at her she turns, churning up sand, and races down the beach toward where he stands in the waves. Michael turns and sprints away. Nila gives chase.
Blue, ever a steady presence, moves next to my left thigh, and I reach out a hand to rest it on his head. Merl catches up with me, wiping at tears on his face.
“I’m so happy you find me and my plans for destroying society so amusing.”
“If, as you say, you’re no leader, what skill will you use to convince society to implode?”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about…”
“Ah,” he sighs. “I feel like Dan would be better at this game. Wouldn’t Robert Maxim, a destroyer of some note, have some insights as well?”
“Yes,” I agree. “But, you…care.”
Merl cocks his head in that way of his—reminding me of one of his dogs. All his attention is focused on the misunderstood element.
“Dan,” I start to explain. “He is brilliant but his mind…he can be a little cold.” I shake my head. “That’s the wrong word. He could definitely help figure out how to burn it down. But I’m afraid that he wouldn’t necessarily care about all the costs.”
“At least not the same ones you’d care about,” Merl says. “But I know what you mean. His obsessiveness grants him power but also makes him blind.”
“Exactly. And Robert Maxim is basically a…”
“Sociopath.”
I shrug. “Maybe,” I grant him, but a part of me shies away from that label. I want to believe he has real feelings…
We walk on in silence for a few moments. The surf rushes over the sand, sucking it back into the sea in a symphony of sound that relaxes my shoulders. “I want you to help me,” I say. “Figure out how to make the world better, on a larger scale. I want to stop just putting out fires.”
“Instead you want to light one big one?” Merl asks.
“Yes.” My voice is so low it’s almost swallowed up in the noise of the ocean, but Merl nods as if he’s heard me.
“I think this circles back around to you.” I roll my eyes and Merl laughs. “Look,” he smiles. “All the ancient scriptures teach us that change comes from within.”
“Meditating more isn’t going to accomplish what I’m hoping for here…”
“Nothing will, Sydney.”
My gut tightens. “I didn’t expect that from you,” I say.
“Didn’t expect a reality check, are you sure? Isn’t that why you came to me?” I don’t answer and Merl continues. “The reason you didn’t ask Robert or Dan is because you knew their solutions would lead to hurting a lot of people. And that’s because you can’t create huge shifts without damage. You’re talking about a massive earthquake, a volcanic eruption, a complete reordering. That’s not something that everyone walks away from unscathed.”
“I know,” I mutter. “But Merl, everything is just so fucked up.”
He laughs again, it sounds light and easy—as if I’m not talking about the horror show that is humanity’s house.
“Sydney, the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.”
“Martin Luther King, Jr. also said that a riot was the language of the unheard.”
“But he certainly did not advocate for them.”
“No,” I agree. “And where are we now? Closer to an equitable world…maybe a little. But it’s hard to say.”
Merl stops and looks out to the ocean. I follow his gaze. The island is surrounded by a reef so the swells are gentle on the shore, but in the distance white froth sprays toward the sky as it hits the barrier. “I understand your urge to do more than we’ve done,” Merl says.
“What do you think about Rida’s method?” I ask, wincing slightly. My own contribution to the madness she spawned—the creation of a new religion based on the ramblings of my brain damaged hallucinations—feels like a fresh stab wound, not yet painful but rather a surprising bright white heat that every instinct in me shies away from.
“I think she believed deeply in her cause.”
“She lied,” I say, not even sure anymore if what she did could be considered a lie. She believed I was a messenger from God. She believed her story… “She didn’t get a message from God,” I say, my voice edged with anger. There is no such thing! Frustration moves my feet again and I continue down the beach.
Merl jogs a few steps to catch up. “How do you know?”
