JC: Harry and Amy
Chapter 1
By
Lazlo Zalezac
Copyright (C) Lazlo Zalezac, 2005

It was five o'clock on a Friday evening and people were leaving 
their jobs in droves. The doors of the skyscrapers were open more 
than closed as the occupants streamed out in what appeared to be a 
never ending flow. Traffic crowded the city streets. Horns honked 
and sirens wailed. The volume of noise was almost as good an 
indicator of the time of day as a clock.

Amy waited for her bus to arrive outside the Chicago Stock 
Exchange where she worked. The January weather was bitterly 
cold. Her breath showed as the warm air met the cold air. She 
shivered while looking down the street for the familiar outline of 
the bus. She couldn't use just any bus, but had to wait for the one 
with the lift. Despite the thermal bag hanging on the front of her 
walker, the burgers inside it were getting cold and she wished the 
bus would arrive soon. 

She relaxed when the hulking figure of the bus turned the corner 
and pulled up to her stop. Johnny, the driver, waved as he pulled 
the bus over and stopped where she could get on without having to 
move. He climbed out of his seat and made his way to the back of 
the bus to operate the lift. It wasn't necessary, but he liked Amy 
and wanted to make sure that she was okay. When the door 
opened, he started the lift on its trip to the ground. With a smile, he 
asked, "How are you doing today, Amy?"

"I'm fine, Johnny. How are the wife and kids?" she answered.

"The wife is about to defend her thesis. She'll be getting a raise 
when she gets her degree," answered Johnny. His wife was a 
teacher and her pay was tied to the level of education and years in 
her position. 

"I bet she's looking forward to being done," replied Amy. The 
ramp hit the ground and she used the walker to step onto it. She 
could hear the other passengers complaining about the delay, but 
she was moving as fast as she could. The walker wasn't her 
preferred form of support, but she couldn't carry much when she 
used the crutches. 

Johnny hit the button for the lift and stepped back. Having a 
spouse who for the past four years had been going to night school 
twice a week was hard on a marriage. This was particularly true for 
a marriage with two small kids. The imposition didn't matter. He 
was proud of her. He said, "Yeah, we both are. It'll be nice to have 
her at home in the evenings again."

Amy smiled as the lift settled into place within the bus. She said, 
"I'm sure that you'll enjoy having her around the house."

Johnny closed the door and replied, "You bet."

Returning to the front of the bus, one of the passengers complained 
about the delay. Irritated by the rude comment, Johnny stopped and 
turned to the man. Shaking his finger in the man's face, Johnny 
said, "Amy's special. She's worth more than everyone else on this 
bus put together. I'll take as long as necessary to help her onto this 
bus. So will every other driver."

Amy frowned at the exchange. She didn't like to be treated special, 
but the damned braces that held her knees together forced it upon 
her. She stared out the door of the bus thinking about how a simple 
game of volleyball had totally changed her life. One minute she 
was running around and diving for the ball. A minute later, she was 
on the ground screaming in pain as her knees gave out on her. An 
operation to fix the problem showed that it was congenital and 
she'd never walk without assistance again. 

The bus lumbered along its route. Rush hour meant frequent stops 
with lots of passengers getting on and off. She didn't need to signal 
her stop, Johnny would pick it for her just like he did every Friday 
night. She frowned as she looked through the glass panel of the bus 
door. The bus had left its normal route and was heading towards a 
very rough part of town.

One of the passengers complained to the driver. Johnny just smiled 
and explained that it was a necessary detour. His answer puzzled 
Amy. Usually, he dropped her off at one of three locations and this 
was far from any of them. They were heading into an area where 
people didn't know her.

The bus stopped and Johnny walked to the back of the bus. 
Reaching her, he said, "A special stop for you tonight."

"Thanks, I guess. It looks a little rougher than usual," commented 
Amy as she gathered her stuff together. 

"Normally, I would agree with you. Tonight's different," replied 
Johnny as he opened the door. Checking to make sure that she was 
ready, he started the lift on its downward journey. 

Amy looked at the homeless men gathered near the stop. One of 
the men noticed her and started moving to the bus. Recognizing the 
man, she relaxed knowing that Cal would take care of her if any 
problems developed. She smiled and called out, "Hello, Cal."

The California Kid waved and called back, "Miss Amy, we've got 
someone for you to meet."

The lift touched down on the ground and Amy struggled to step off 
it. From within the bus, Johnny said, "You won't need a ride home 
tonight, Amy."

After stepping off, she turned to look back at him and saw him 
smile at her as the lift started its upward journey. She didn't 
understand why he was abandoning her there. She asked, "No one 
is coming to pick me up?"

"Not tonight," said Johnny. 

She couldn't hear everything that Johnny said because Cal was 
talking to her at the same time. The next thing she knew, Johnny 
had waved and closed the door of the bus. She turned to the 
California Kid and said, "Calm down, Cal. What's got you so 
excited?"

"He's here," explained Cal pointing in the direction in which he 
had come. The young man was practically dancing in place.

"Who's here?" asked Amy curious about what was going on. She'd 
never seen Cal this excited. The other homeless men would 
normally gather around her almost as soon as she got off the bus. 
Tonight, they were gathered around a lunch wagon. 

"Harry!" exclaimed Cal wondering why she didn't get it the first 
time he had told her.

As the cold wind whipped around her, Amy fiddled with the 
thermal bag. It took a minute to get it detached from her walker. 
She handed it to him and asked, "Would you hand these out?"

"I'll give them to Harry to hand out," said Cal as he rushed off with 
the bag of hamburgers. 

Amy watched the homeless man run off to the lunch wagon. It 
seemed to her that he was acting like a kid rather than the beaten 
down twenty-something person that he normally was. She watched 
as he reached the back of the lunch wagon and handed the bag of 
burgers inside. 

Looking around at the other homeless men gathered there, she 
noticed that there were more smiles than normal. Even more 
surprising was that they were smiling at each other. Usually, the 
men and women were quiet and reserved. Some people even 
considered them sullen, but she knew they were reserved out of 
fear that they would lose what little they had if they were too 
friendly. 

The frigid air was chilling her to the bone and she knew that she 
had to keep moving to stay warm. Summoning her energy, she 
started the long trek to the lunch wagon to find out what was going 
on inside. It was only forty yards, but that was a huge distance 
considering her physical condition. When she used the walker, she 
measured distance in terms of steps. In the rough terrain of the 
empty lot, it took her three steps to cover a yard and her average 
rate was five steps per minute. Forty yards was almost a ten-minute 
walk.

She paused just in time to see Cal disappear into the lunch wagon. 
A sense of surprise came over Amy when she saw the green robed 
figure step out the back door. She recognized him as a Druid. In 
these days and times, it was hard not to recognize a Druid. She had 
even worked with one who was investigating a stock manipulation 
scheme. That guy was intense. The only question that came to 
mind was what was a Druid doing in this neighborhood. 

The Druid looked around for a moment, spotted her, smiled, and 
then headed in her direction. She paused, finding it difficult to 
move and watch him at the same time. Not for the first time that 
day, she cursed the leg braces that prevented her from moving with 
ease. 

"Amy, it is such a pleasure to meet you. I've heard a lot about the 
Chicago Angel. When I arrived in town, I knew that I just had to 
meet the woman who takes the time and effort to feed my fellow 
homeless," said Harry in greetings as he reached her. The crooked 
smile on his face was friendly and open. 

His greeting stunned her. She'd never heard of herself referred to 
as the Chicago Angel. She wondered if that was what they called 
her on the streets or if it was some sort of nickname that he was 
giving her. Nicknames, once given, would be picked up and 
repeated until it became a real name. She didn't know what to say 
and stood in place staring at him.

"Allow me introduce myself. I'm Happy Harry, last of the hoboes," 
said the Druid. He gave a half bow to her as he performed the 
introduction. The bow was accompanied by a full arm gesture as 
though he were in a royal court.

"Pleased to met you," replied Amy automatically. She continued to 
stare at the Druid wondering what he was doing there. Stories 
about a Druid who served the Goddess by taking care of the 
forgotten people were slowly returning to her. She wondered if this 
was that Druid and why he would be here in Chicago in the month 
of January when he could have been helping others in much 
warmer climates.

"The pleasure is mine. Not many people will take the time and 
effort to buy food for the homeless out of their own pocketbook," 
he said while gesturing towards the lunch wagon. He added, 
"Would you please join me in my carriage? It is much warmer in 
there than out here."

"Sure," she answered. Rather than attempting to help, he stepped 
beside her and matched his pace to hers. After a couple of steps, 
she said, "You can go ahead and wait for me."

"And miss a chance to talk further with you? Never," replied Harry 
turning on the charm. 

"Miss a chance to talk to me?" asked Amy wondering if he was for 
real. 

"Right."

Focusing on walking, she said, "You don't know anything about 
me."

"I'd say that I know a lot about you, Amy," answered the Druid 
with a grin. 

"Really?" she said in disbelief.

"Every Friday, you get on a bus carrying a bag of food. Johnny 
takes you to a place where a lot of homeless are gathered and you 
get off the bus to handout the food. With no more than a kind word 
to everyone, you give of your hard-earned money in a form that 
helps rather than tempts weak souls. From what I've been able to 
guess, you spend about seven thousand a year on food alone. You 
don't preach, lecture, or judge," answered Harry.

The wind was making her nose run. She stopped and blew her nose 
before she said, "Cal could have told you that."

"The California Kid?"

"Yeah."

"Sure, he could have and he did. So did about fifty other people. 
Of course, none of them know that you work as a stock market 
analyst," commented Harry looking over at her to see her reaction.

"That's easy enough to find out. Johnny could have told you that," 
she retorted. She stopped walking to confront him without the 
distraction of moving.

"Sure, but my source was a lot closer to you than that. You worked 
with a friend of mine last year. He said that you were an honest 
person."

"You know Ed Biggers?" asked Amy realizing even as she asked 
the question that the Druids would all know each other. 

"He's the head of those who serve the Two-Sided One. In addition, 
he gave me a couple million dollars and the roach coach," 
answered Harry with a smile. "Anyway, he told me all about you."

It unnerved her to know that Druids were talking about her. She 
wasn't important enough to be discussed within such circles. She 
was an analyst for an investing firm and was fairly successful. She 
made a good living and lived a simple life. Off balance, she said, 
"Oh."

"Ed was really sorry to learn that we could not fix your knees," 
remarked Harry looking down at her braces.

His direct examination of her braces embarrassed her, but she was 
used to being stared at by people. His gaze was different, seeming 
to focus on the impact they had on her rather than the ugliness they 
presented to others. Raising an eyebrow, she asked, "And why 
would Ed think he could do anything about them?"

"His wife is a healer and can heal all kinds of injuries. The 
problem is that the underlying cause of your injury is a congenital 
problem. She can't fix that," answered Harry. 

The fact that he knew her problem was a result of a congenital 
condition suggested he knew far more about her than she had 
thought possible. She asked, "Are you trying to recruit me or 
something?"

"Good gracious, no!" replied Harry. The idea of going out and 
recruiting people was contrary to everything the Druids believed. 
People came to serve the Gods and Goddesses by seeking them 
out, being called to them, or by accident. The college was only a 
mechanism by which people could seek out service. It was strange, 
but in the entire time that the college had been in operation, no 
more than eight students in any year had become a Druid.

His answer made her wonder if he thought she wasn't good enough 
to become a Druid. She asked, "Why not?"

"That's not our way," explained Harry. He looked over at her and 
gestured towards his vehicle. It was very cold and the wind seemed 
to drive the chill into the bones.

She started walking while thinking about what Harry had said. If 
he wasn't here to recruit her, then why was he here? Lost in 
thought, it took her a minute to realize that she had arrived at the 
truck. She looked over at Harry and asked, "Now what?"

Smiling, Harry answered, "If you will allow me to lift you into the 
truck, you can wait in relative warmth while I finish my work here. 
Then I'll take you to dinner and home."

Staring at him, she wondered how this elderly man could possibly 
lift her into the truck. She wasn't a small woman, being close to six 
foot tall. Her braces added another thirty-five pounds to her 
weight. She said, "I'm much to heavy for you to lift me into the 
truck."

"I'm far stronger than I look," replied Harry with a wink. 

"You can try," she replied believing that he would discover that he 
couldn't budge her off the ground. 

With ease, Harry lifted her off the ground and carried her over to 
the passenger door of the truck. Upon reaching it, he said, "You're 
going to have to unlock your braces."

Amazed that he had been able to lift her and carry her around, she 
had not thought to unlock her braces. It only took a couple of 
seconds for her to comply with his request. He then placed her 
gently in the seat of the truck. The warmth of the truck greeted her 
like an old friend and chased away the cold chill that had crept into 
her body.

It was only after she was in her seat for a full minute that she 
thought to wonder about how easy it was for him to place her 
there. She had not noticed that the doors were extra wide so it was 
easy to carry her through them. She commented, "That seemed 
easy."

"I've had lots of practice. I tend to travel in areas that are 
dangerous. More than one unconscious person has been carried to 
that seat," replied Harry with a wink and a salute.

It made sense to Amy. She'd made more than one 911 call on her 
cell phone to have an ambulance pick up some unconscious 
homeless person. What didn't make sense to her was how a guy his 
age could lift her so easily. She nodded understanding despite the 
fact that she didn't understand and waited as he returned to the 
truck. He packed her walker in a storage area reminiscent of the 
luggage area on a bus.

"Listen up everyone. In a week, a new homeless hotel will be 
opened up here. It will have space to sleep a hundred, bathrooms, 
and showers. There will be an outdoor heater. Best of all, you'll 
have a mailing address. There will be food for those who are 
willing to do a little work around the place. All of that for the 
amazingly low price of zero dollars!" Harry shouted his message to 
the gathered homeless. 

His message was greeted with grins. The homeless hotels were 
famous as havens for homeless folk who were ill or just needed a 
good place to stay for a night or two. The fact that they would have 
an address was just as important as a bed. Getting a job often 
required an address. Without a job, you couldn't get an address. It 
was a catch twenty-two that made it harder to get off the streets.

Amy listened to Harry interact with the men and women who were 
gathered around the truck. It amazed her how he managed to 
convey hope with simple words. In all the years that she had 
provided Friday night dinners for the homeless, the best she had 
been able to do was to stave off hopelessness. She understood it 
was the difference between the resources they each brought to the 
problem. 

It was twenty minutes later before Harry climbed into the driver's 
seat of the truck. Turning to face Amy, he said, "Hold on. This 
here crate put the sway into the sway backed nag."

Amy squealed as the truck rocked from side to side when Harry 
drove over the curb and onto the street. She expected the rocking 
motion to settle down, but it didn't. The rocking motion threatened 
to make her sick. Noticing her expression, he asked, "Are you 
starting to feel a little seasick?"

"Yeah," groaned Amy.

"Perfectly natural," replied Harry as he swerved to miss a pothole 
in the street. The motion set the truck to rocking even more. He 
reached over and patted her arm as he said, "Don't worry. There 
are airsickness bags in the pocket of the door."

She stared at him in shock and then studied the door for the pocket 
with the airbags. There wasn't a pocket in the door. Confused, she 
said, "There's no pocket in the door."

Grinning, Harry said, "Got 'cha!"

It was a joke? It was a joke. She started laughing as she realized 
that the Druid was joking. The laughter took her mind off her 
unsettled stomach. Her laughter grew as he recited a very funny 
version of the flight safety lecture given on airlines. She was still 
laughing by the time they pulled up to a very nice diner. 

Harry parked the car and announced, "We have arrived."

The laughter died from her lips when she thought about the hassle 
of getting to the door of the diner and to a table within it. For a 
moment, she had forgotten her problems. Before she knew it, 
Harry was out of the truck and at her door. He had stopped to 
unpack a walker and set it by the door. 

He lifted her out of the seat. While he was holding her, she locked 
her braces into place so that they would support her when she 
stood. He set her on the ground with a gentle landing that spoke of 
far greater strength than she guessed humanly possible. 

She reached for the handle of the walker and then noticed that it 
wasn't her walker. She bent to examine it and was surprised to find 
that it wasn't a walker at all. Looking over at him with a puzzled 
expression, she asked, "What is this?"

"One of our makers created this device and would appreciate it if 
you would try it out. The base lowers down to the ground so that 
you can step onto it. With the flip of a button, it will raise you off 
the ground. The wheels are fusion powered. You steer by pushing 
the two handles. Forward will drive the wheels in a forward 
direction and back will drive the wheels in reverse. Let go and it 
will stop," answered Harry watching her for the expected reaction.

Furious at the presumption of the Druid, Amy shouted, "If I 
wanted a fucking mechanical replacement for my legs, I'd have 
settled for a wheelchair a long time ago! I have legs! They may not 
work great, but I'll use them until I can't use them any more!"

Harry laughed despite the fact that it was not what most people 
would have considered an appropriate response to her outburst. 
Her reaction had been expected and he was pleased to see it. With 
cheer in his voice, he said, "This isn't to replace your legs."

His reaction surprised Amy and she looked at him. She asked, "If it 
isn't mechanical replacement for my legs, then what is it?"

"It is transportation, just like a bus, car, boat, or airplane. You have 
no problem taking the bus from your office to where you feed the 
homeless. This is to carry you over great distances in areas that are 
rough," answered Harry.

"Why give it to me here?"

"I just wanted you to have a chance to try it out. I figured from 
here to the door was far enough for you to get feel for it," answered 
Harry.

Not quite trusting him, she stepped onto the platform. Following 
his directions, she flipped the button that would raise the platform 
from the ground. She rose six inches. Unsure about what to expect, 
she asked, "How fast does it go?"

"Zero to sixty in ten seconds," answered the Druid. He winked 
upon seeing her reaction and then said, "At a normal walking 
pace."

She pushed one of the handles forward and started turning in a 
circle. She pushed the other handle and the course straightened out. 
She was headed away from the restaurant. It took a little time to 
get control of it and get it aimed in the right direction. Harry kept 
pace along side her. She said, "This is kind of strange."

"I'll admit that I took it for few spins around the block. I rather 
enjoyed it," commented Harry. 

When they reached the door of the restaurant, she stopped and 
waited for him to open the door. He stood beside her and waited. 
Finally, she asked, "Aren't we going in?"

"I'm waiting for you to park it," answered Harry.

"Park it? Where?"

"How about over by that metal post over there?" answered Harry 
as he gestured to a metal post that held the sign displaying a 
handicapped parking space. 

"Some one will steal it."

"If you park it over there, I'll show you the electromagnetic lock."

Maneuvering the device over to the post was a little easier now that 
she had some practice controlling it. She ran it up to the post and 
then released the handles. She noticed there were a pair of arm 
crutches attached to the device. She grabbed them after lowering 
the platform to the ground. With practiced ease, she backed away 
to stand beside Harry.

Harry placed a device in her hand and said, "Press the button."

She pressed the button and the vehicle pulled itself to the sign. 
Walking over to it, she tried to pull it way, but it was stuck fast. 
She pressed the button again and the vehicle rolled a quarter inch 
away from the pole. She asked, "How's it work?"

"A fusion battery powers an electromagnet. Once it is activated 
and makes contact with iron or steel, it isn't coming off until turned 
off."

"Neat," she replied. Looking over the device, she was amazed at 
the simplicity of construction. The person who had made it must 
have been a genius. Looking over at Harry, she asked, "So what is 
this thing called?"

The original name had been the 'Inner-City All Terrain Vehicle.' 
Everyone had agreed that the name was a mouthful and over time 
the name had been shortened. He answered, "We've been calling it 
an IC ATV, short for Inner-City All Terrain Vehicle. You can call 
it by what ever name you want."

Using her arm crutches, Amy made her way into the restaurant and 
they were led to a booth. It took her a minute to get settled into the 
seat, but she settled back. Looking across the table at the Druid, 
she asked, "So what is it that you really want from me?"

Now that she had removed her hat, coat, scarf, and gloves, Harry 
could see that she was a very attractive young woman. The cold air 
had given her cheeks a rosy glow. Her breasts swelled her top in a 
manner testifying to the fact that she was a well-developed woman. 
Her clothes didn't exactly advertise her figure but were tight 
enough to let him know she wasn't fat. It made him wonder why 
she would choose to spend her Friday nights with homeless men 
and women rather than socializing with friends.

Sitting back in his seat, Harry answered, "Nothing. I want nothing 
from you."

"Then why are you doing this?"

"I serve the Gods and Goddesses. I have been charged with helping 
the invisible ones in our society. My activities are part of my 
service. Your actions are manifestations of the goodness within 
you," answered Harry. 

Amy didn't respond. She didn't trust herself to respond. She looked 
over at the Druid wondering how he would react if he understood 
her reasons for doing what she did. The destruction of her knees 
hadn't just ruined her ability to walk; they had ruined her chances 
for finding love. No sane man wanted a cripple in his life. She 
shrugged her shoulders.

Her reaction was not exactly what Harry had expected. He studied 
her for a moment trying to determine why she had reacted in such 
a non-committal fashion. He said, "I want to help you."

"You want to help me? Help me do what?"

"Deliver food, kind words, and hope," answered Harry watching 
her carefully. There was more to her story than he had fathomed. 

She turned her head away from him and looked out the window for 
a moment. The glass reflected their images back at her. There was 
no relief from his probing gaze. She faced him and said, "I don't 
deliver hope. I saw that tonight after watching you. I've just been 
staving off hopelessness."

Harry rubbed his chin while he considered her words. After a 
minute, he said, "You aren't very happy."

"Do you want to know why I go out there every Friday?"

"Sure," answered Harry.

"I have nothing better to do," she declared. This was the first time 
she had admitted it aloud and it hurt far more than she thought 
possible. 

"I agree. There is nothing better than going out and helping your 
fellow human beings," said Harry even though he knew she didn't 
mean it in that manner.

"You don't understand," cried Amy. She fumbled with the 
silverware to unwrap the napkin. Tearing the napkin off, she put it 
up to her face and cried into it. Years of frustration, loneliness, and 
pain burst forth.

Harry's voice took on a gentle smoothing tone as he said, "I do 
understand. Ever since your accident, men haven't paid attention to 
you. They see the braces, not the woman the braces hold upright. 
You can't do any of the other activities that filled your life before 
the accident. You see a future without love, so you reach out to 
others who share your sense of abandonment."

His words soothed her enough for her to look over the shredded 
napkin at him. A small piece of the napkin was stuck to her cheek, 
held in place by a tear. He reached across the table and removed 
the errant piece of napkin. Shaking his head, he said, "You couldn't 
see anything better to do, but there were thousands of other things 
you could have done. You chose the best and it was a giving 
choice."

"But I'm not doing it out of the goodness of my heart," countered 
Amy amazed that this man wasn't condemning her motives. 

"Sure you are. You just don't realize it," answered Harry. 
Everything about the way he spoke suggested that she wasn't to 
argue the point. 

Amy dried her tears, tearing the napkin into even smaller pieces. 
He might forgive her motives, but she didn't. She sighed and then 
answered, "Okay."

It didn't take a mind reader to know that she wasn't convinced, but 
convincing her wasn't his task for that evening. He said, "I want to 
help you make a difference. I travel around the country taking care 
of people in the large cities, but I'm only one person. Would you 
oversee the homeless hotel for me?"

"Oversee the homeless hotel? What does that entail?"

"Stopping by once a week to deliver the money to keep it 
operational. Make sure that the person in charge of daily 
operations doesn't need any special resources. That's all."

"And if I chose not to do this?" asked Amy. 

"Then someone at the Fusion Foundation will take care of it," 
answered Harry without guile. Although he was asking her to 
work, it wasn't because he needed her to work for him. He was, in 
truth, giving her the opportunity to help in a broader manner.

"The Fusion Foundation?" she asked, eyes going wide at the idea 
that he could call upon their resources.

"Sure. The Fusion Foundation provides the money for the daily 
operation of the homeless hotels. They pay for food, blankets, 
clothing, and all of the utilities."

"Why would they do that?" asked Amy.

Harry spent the rest of the meal telling Amy about the founding of 
the Fusion Foundation by John Carter and the subsequent 
management of it by Ed Biggers. The picture that unfolded 
staggered her imagination. She couldn't believe someone would 
give up billions of dollars to help others in the manner that John 
Carter had. She couldn't believe someone would dedicate the rest 
of his life to see that vision spread to every community in the 
country and across the world. She had worked with Ed Biggers and 
hadn't known. 

Harry parked the truck next to her car. Turning to her, he said, "It'll 
just take a minute for your stomach to settle."

"You need to get this truck fixed. It isn't normal for any vehicle to 
move like that," she complained. The thought that she'd have lost 
her dinner if she'd eaten anything greasy made her nauseous. 

"It's not that bad," countered Harry. He rather enjoyed the motion 
of the truck although it had become a little more extreme of late. 

"It's that bad," she charged.

Harry got out of the truck and helped her to the ground. He then 
showed her how to fold up the IC ATV and put it in the trunk of 
her car. Made of lightweight composite materials, the vehicle was 
surprising light at only thirty pounds. Once it was packed away, he 
walked with her to the driver's side door of her car. With the arm 
crutches, she could walk a normal pace.

After she had gotten into her car, but before she had closed the 
door, Harry stepped close to her and dropped to one knee. He took 
her hand in his and kissed it. Amy was shocked by his action and 
looked at him wide-eyed. He said, "There was only one part of 
your reason for helping the homeless that I object to."

His words were like a cold slap in the face. Incredibly hurt, she 
asked, "What?"

"That you were destined to a future without love," said Harry. 

"Huh?"

With a smile, Harry said, "You will find love. You have the word 
of a Druid on that."

Amy sat in her car for ten minutes trying to make sense of the 
Druid. She felt something stirring inside her, but didn't she know 
what it was. It came to her when she finally reached home. That 
something she was feeling was called hope.
