Chapter
22: All or Nothing
Up until this year began, I really thought that people were basically rotten
inside. Not through any fault of their
own, but just because that’s how life is. Indeed,
when I was growing up, had I heard the motto, “Life sucks and then you die,” I
would surely have adopted it as my own. My nanny had told me that other children say
their prayers before they sleep, asking Heaven to watch over those they love.
Unfortunately I didn’t have anyone in particular to love, or to be loved
by. Instead, I remember lying in bed each night,
making a tally of the day. 50% bad, 10%
good and 40% blasé was typically the normal barometric reading on an average day.
Days often swung widely into the bad range, but almost never inched higher
in the good column.
Thanks to this change in perception, for most days that summer and early
fall I’d probably tally it as 70% in the good column.
This was a major achievement for me, especially considering that nothing
was going the way we planned it. Somehow
I convinced myself not to worry that “One Day In Peace” wasn’t the catch-phrase
that had caught on. Even though I knew
it was jeopardizing my future, which I couldn’t let on to anyone about.
Somehow I refused to be disappointed with the Peace Tour.
When we’d set off on the tour, I had envisioned stadiums full of cheering
crowds showering Art and I with love and admiration and appreciation -- all the
things I had longed to find all my life. Though we were fairly well received, we ended
up being never more than a side event. But
hearing even a few people singing along in the songs I’d made up, and just sharing
that journey with Art -- it really calmed that emptiness that had ached in me
for so long.
I’d really grown quite fond of Sam and Art’s kids, too. Did they plot to
arrange it so that I’d have to keep in close email contact as we planned how to
engage the local PeaceKids chapters and BetterWorld Clubs in each of the cities
we visited? But wasn’t it me that had set it up that way?
Either way the closer to them I grew, the less likely it seemed that Art
and I would ever be anything more than People For Peace.
But of course, with my new world-view, I could only see that having a friend
like him was a valuable treasure.
My new-found positive perception was really put to the test one unseasonably
wet and chilly Thursday morning in Tulsa, Oklahoma at the beginning of September. Only two days before, we had all been floating
on a cloud. My barometer read a healthy 85% on the good side. That Tuesday had been the opening day of the
United Nations General Assembly. Every
year the delegates rise for a Moment of Silence for peace and the work that they
will be doing for the year.
Most years the
UN begins it’s work in September without the world paying attention at all. But
this year there were hundreds of simultaneous global celebrations taking place,
and when the UN Ambassadors rose in silence for peace this year, all of the major
networks -- both radio and television joined with them. It was a silence heard around the world. It was truly profound.
The next day the General Assembly unanimously adopted a Resolution declaring
January 1 as “The International Day for a Peaceful New Beginning.”
My barometer hovered uncertainly, then inched steadily lower. Art was stupefied. “But, we had the language all worked out,” he
stuttered on the phone with Junior. The
Ambassadors had formed a One Day In Peace Committee... they were going to call
it One Day In Peace...” We all tried to look on the bright side.
“It seems pretty unanimous that ‘One Day In Peace’ just isn’t going to
be,” Art sighed, “but it’s a great victory for a day of peace on January 1. Every day now it’s looking more and more hopeful.
That’s all that matters, Jess. Right?”
“Right,” I sighed.
Wednesday night was miserably rainy and it kept me fitfully tossing and
turning in the cheap motel. My roommate,
Sandra, our troupe’s resident magician was certainly no help. Her snoring kicked in every time I started to
drift back to sleep. I was not looking
forward to the next day’s show. The crowds
would turn up, come rain or shine, and we’d have to stand out there in the rain
all day for our little spot at some inconvenient and undetermined time, as usual.
I tried to think warm, happy thoughts.
And then I heard the knocking on the motel door.
I jumped out of bed, and quickly pulled on my robe. Inching my way through the dark, I peeked out
the peep-hole. It was Junior.
“What are you doing here?” I stormed as I eased the door open.
“Shhh... come with me, Jesse, we’ve got to talk.”
“In the rain?!!!”
“We’ll go to that diner, across the street... looks like it’s open for
the earlybirds... Sorry, I didn’t call, or email ... it’s about, you know...”
“Hang on, let me put on my sweats,” I sighed and left the door slightly
ajar while I pulled on some clothes in the dark.
Sandra stopped snoring. “What is
it?” she snorted.
“Go back to sleep, I’ll be right back,” I whispered.
A second later, she was snoring again.
The coffee was awful, but I was drenched and it was hot, so I forced it
down.
They didn’t look very appetizing. “I’m
not up yet,” I moaned. “Okay, Junior. Tell me the bad news. I’m all out of money, right? We’ve gone through a hundred and fifty million
dollars.”
He looked down, avoiding my eyes and played with his scrambled eggs. “Well, actually, yes. The money that was allotted in the probate to
complete the campaign is entirely gone.”
“Think positive,” I told myself. “May
peace prevail on earth,” I muttered. Merle
had told me that thinking those words would help to calm me down. I whispered it slower to myself and took a deep
breath. Amazingly I wasn’t too upset.
“Okay. What do we do now? Are we supposed to throw the towel in?”
Jimmy sighed. “Well, Jesse. We can still go on with our campaign -- see
it through to the end, if we... well, we can use the rest of your Uncle’s personal
assets for the campaign if you want. But
then you wouldn’t have anything to inherit if we succeeded in bringing One Day
In Peace. Except, of course, the 61% share
of stock in Global Missiles, which you aren’t ever allowed to sell.”
“So, with all the different January 1 campaigns going on, things are looking
fairly hopeful for a day of peace on earth. If
you’re right about it having to be called ‘One Day In Peace,’ I’d lose everything if we just let it run its
course. And even if we used the remaining
$150 million it probably wouldn’t be called One Day In Peace even if there were
a day of peace. So I would have lost the
money anyway. But Global Missiles would
disappear. That would be something.”
Junior was nodding as he followed along in my circular reasoning. Now, if we just throw in the towel, and hope
that everyone else will get the job done, I lose all the money anyway. Right?”
Jimmy nodded. “Yeah... if we fail
or you don’t complete the campaign we have to make $1 available to each of the
first one-hundred-and-fifty million people that request it.”
“A day of peace is certainly not a sure thing, yet!” Junior agreed.
“With more funds thrown in we could help get some more teams of negotiators
into the war zones,” I suggested, as I mentally went over our wish-lists that
had been cast aside. “Maybe we can create some economic programs to provide incentives
for both sides to come to terms with each other. And we’ve been wanting to get
some more funding to the Global Mothers peace and sharing efforts to make sure
everyone has food on January 1, and to get programs in place to make sure people
can continue to meet their own food needs. And it would be great to get the Peace Arts
Center back up and running and... we’ve lost most of the Peace Centers around
the world ... most of them have gone to the Peace Day or Day One campaigns or
just disappeared because of lack of funding.”
My head was spinning but it seemed obvious that we had to do it. “It’s all or nothing, or sort of nothing or
nothing, or everything or everything...” I rambled not exactly sure what the tally
sides were, but pretty sure we had to use the money and push on with all we could,
and keep hopeful. “150 million seems like
a lot of money, but I know it’s a big world and the money goes out so fast.
Jimmy, will we be able to make a big enough splash and make it through
the rest of the year on it?”
Jimmy was smiling. He looked proud
of me. “Yes, Jesse.
It would be just enough to be able to make some nice One Day In Peace waves.”
“Well, what do we have to lose?” I laughed.
“We’ll just go for broke.” Suddenly
I felt hungry for breakfast after all. Previous Chapter | Next Chapter Table of Contents | Preface | Ch 1
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