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“Ah, it’s six o’clock!” Cannon looked down at his watch, “My sweet Lillian is about to be home.”
It seemed to be just another normal day. Cannon and his wife, Lillian, would leave their jobs and meet up to go grocery shopping. They’d spend their nights together preparing dinner and listening to music. Cannon loved Lillian. She was an amazing woman and he loved being in her company.
As soon as he left work, he began his drive. As he cruised down the smooth streets a heavy, smothering feeling came over him. Cannon started to cough and his eyes began to water. He pulled over onto the shoulder of the road to gather himself. Something was wrong. His heart felt heavy. He reached into his glove compartment and grabbed an aspirin and a drink of water. After a few moments, he continued to drive.
His phone began vibrating in the cupholder. At first he ignored it because he didn’t want to be late, he knew Lillian would be waiting, but it rang several more times. On the third time, he decided to pull over to the side of the road and answer it.
“Hey Cannon, this is Henry.” A voice came though as he answered the call, “I was passing by the manufacturing district, it appears the Marsspace factory has caught fire… Your wife works there, right?”
Cannon paused to try to understand the meaning of the call. He replied, “Yeah… she does. What’s going on?”
“I don’t really know, I just see firefighters, police officers and ambulances out here. I asked them what was happening and a police officer told me the building had caught fire and is being searched for survivors… I don’t want to scare you, but they can’t seem to locate those who work in Lillian’s department.”
__________
Cannon shot up in his bed. He breathed heavily, his hands tightly grasping his sheets. The nightmare played in his dreams every time he went to sleep. He wouldn’t let it continue. The dark death of his beloved wife tormented him the whole month since the tragedy happened. The cause of the fire was unknown, and she was never found.
He slipped out of his bed, gathered some clothes from his drawers, and walked to the bathroom. Cannon put his clothes on the shelf near the sink and got into the shower. The room filled with hot steam, and he felt as if he were in there forever. He cut the water off, and grabbed his towel, failing to fully dry off. Once dressed, he headed for the kitchen.
His short blonde hair was still wet, and stuck to his forehead. Water dripped into his blue eyes as he wiped it from his brow with his sleeve. He opened the refrigerator for a packaged breakfast, and slid it into the oven. With a look of perplexity as what to do next, he sighed and walked to the sink to wash his hands, and stared out the window at the waking world.
A frosty glaze covered the road outside, and the wind blew through the trees. Borghett was always cold during the last half of the year, almost as though the sun didn’t exist or was too far away to matter. Not that the coldness had any affect on Cannon. No, cold days were warm to him, compared to the freezing emptiness he felt inside.
Cannon removed the breakfast from the oven and ate it silently. He tried to focus on the day ahead, before his thoughts could go into the questions, the memories, and the tears that were likely to come. He threw his breakfast tray away, grabbed his coat, and walked to his car. The cold Borghese wind blew in his face and bit at his fingers as he fiddled with the car keys. He got into the small white vehicle and drove out of his driveway.

After driving for several miles, Cannon parked in a large parking lot behind the Chashan. The Chashan was made up of several buildings, and was Borghett’s only warrior training site. It was where the warriors were required to learn and practice until they were ready to take their final test in the neighboring city of Loktight. The Chashan’s buildings were built of gray brick and were edged in shiny metal.
Walking through a back door, Cannon stepped into a large locker room that was nearly as cold as it was outside. A loud shaking heater sat in a corner, failing to warm the room. Cannon slid out of his coat, folded it, and shoved it into his locker. Then he entered the Chashan’s main room and walked through a row of chairs. Standing at a podium was a woman named Ajita Veerle, and leaning against a wall was a tall man named Gearhart Mendoza.
“Greetings Cannon,” Said Ajita. She stacked several papers and tapped them on the surface of the podium.
“Ajita,” Cannon acknowledged her presence, “I take it you are well.”
“I am, thank you,” Laughed the woman as she tucked the loose blonde hairs, that had escaped her braid, behind her ear. Gearhart moved away from the wall and tapped his broad chest with a closed fist. This was the Burnish brotherly way of greeting a friend, and so Cannon repeated the action back.
“I heard there is a meeting today,” Cannon said as he sat down in a front-row chair, “but I don’t think James told me the subject.”
“The officials have several matters to deal with,” Ajita said. She adjusted the small microphone that sat on the podium, and then continued, “Those matters have to do with the Marsspace factory, and the children who loss their parents in the fire.”
“I see,” Cannon said as he dusted the lint off his pants. After several minutes, Cannon noticed many men and women taking their seats. Like Cannon, all were dressed head-to-toe in black. A single-file line of staff continued to come inside until every chair in the room was filled. Ajita put a headset microphone on and adjusted the tool until it fit right.
“Greetings everyone,” Ajita said, “I hope you all are well.”
She lifted her papers off the podium surface and looked through them, “We have gathered here today to discuss the official’s decisions concerning the Marsspace company accident, and the children who are now orphans because of it.”
Ajita walked up and down the large platform that spanned the main room of the Chashan. The audience was made up of warrior trainers, some who were already training trainees. Ajita swallowed, and then continued, “As you all know, hundreds of children lost their parents in this fire. We only have five orphanages, and they are all full. Safety codes and protocol will not allow us to go over capacity. However, the total of the insurance money issued is more than enough to replace the housing, food, clothing, and educational needs of these orphaned children.”
She paused for a moment and looked at the papers in her slender hands. Then she looked back up at the crowd and said, “Our officials have purchased a few large buildings near this Chashan. I have been told that they are going to turn the buildings into a school lodging for these children, and the other will be turned into a training center. The site is to be called the North Eastern Orphanage and Training Center, or the NEOTC. The officials said the remodel should be finished by Friday.”
Cannon sat in his chair attentively. His thick brows lowered as he thought and listened. His face displayed his interest in the topic, and his eyes watched Ajita inquisitively. He rubbed his facial hair that was in need of grooming.
“Since the NEOTC will have a school on its grounds, the children will be well educated citizens,” Ajita continued, “As far as the training center, I have talked with the officials, and they want to offer the children over five years old a chance to begin training. The training center ’s being located on the same property as the orphan home building offers the benefit of family bonding of the older siblings and their younger siblings.”
Ajita looked at the crowd of at least one hundred trainers.
“The only problem that the officials have run into so far,” She continued slowly, “is the small number of people to fill the guardianship positions. I have reached out to several large groups and mentioned our need for teachers and helpers, but I am still waiting to hear back from most of them. The greatest need is for the education and overall care of the children. These children will need to know they are loved.”
Low murmuring passed among the audience.
“We also need several of you trainers to assist in the warrior training of the minors,” Ajita continued, “The officials want those of you who are not currently training a team to help in this project. Of course, you will only be training the children for six hours out of the day. Are there any questions?”
More murmurs were heard.
* * *
The evening sun was low in the sky and a cold breeze blew through the city. Crows squawked in the trees, and watched the Chasan staff get into their cars. Cannon stood in the locker room. He pulled his coat out of his locker and put it on as his mind slipped into deep thoughts.
“Thinking about the meeting?” Asked Gearhart, walking out of a changing room and toward one of the lockers.
“Oh, hey… yeah, I was,” Cannon said, “I was thinking… that—”
“That being there for those kids is what you need,” Gearhart cut in sincerely.
“I need?”
“Yeah, you,” Gearhart replied, changing out of his blazer for a warmer coat. He didn’t make eye contact with Cannon, but continued to gather his things. As Gearhart headed to the door, he turned back and looked at Cannon, “Everyone needs purpose.”
“Purpose.” Cannon said softly, in sync with Gearhart.
“Yeah. Have a good night Cannon. You already know what you should do, and it’s good. Ajita will be in the office early tomorrow. You should inquire, ask some questions, and who knows…” Gearhart said. He opened the door a little wider, tapped his chest and said, “Talk to you later.”
* * *
The next morning, Cannon rose early. He shaved, showered, dressed, and was out the door. It may have been the first time since his loss that he broke his routine. His mind spun with excitement and nervousness at the thought of a new responsibility. What was he doing? What was this new purpose that he was running to? Was he running to it, or was it pulling him in?
And somehow, here he was in the parking lot at work. He didn’t even remember the drive over. He stepped out of his car and headed for Ajita’s office.
Cannon walked into the main room. He was the only one inside of the sunlit area. He walked along the gray walls until he came to a door with Ajita’s name on it. He knocked on the office door, and heard Ajita call for him to come in. He opened the door and stepped into the room. Ajita sat at her desk, and looked up at him.
“Greetings, Ajita,” Cannon said as he silently closed the door behind himself.
“Oh, Cannon,” Ajita said, “How can I help you?”
“I need to speak with you about the… the NEOTC project…” Cannon said slowly.
“Alright, what about it?” Ajita stapled some papers together and set them on top of some stacked pages in an open a drawer. The office was quiet, beyond the clock’s ticking noises. Cannon sat down in a chair across from Ajita. He took note of the files on her desk. Headshot after headshot of kids. Not like prison photos, or DUI arrest, and not like a kid who just got their driver license. They had sweet faces of youth, plugged into an unknown, without answers. Sadness, confusion, and stoic expressions were photographed along with bios of each child.
Cannon cleared his throat, and with more confidence, he spoke, “During the meeting you had mentioned the need for workers. I would like to help with both the training of the minors, and the overall care of the children. You said that the training is only for six hours out of the day. I have nothing else to do for those other eight to ten hours, and so I would be glad to help out in all areas of this project.”
“Oh,” Ajita looked at Cannon and blinked several times, “oh, well that is great. Of course… That’s very good of you. I’ll contact the officials and tell them. They will schedule a screening to make sure you’re a fit.”
“Thank you,” Cannon stood up, “That was all. I won’t distract you further.”
Ajita smiled and nodded, and then Cannon stepped out of the office. He walked into the Chashan’s main room, and let out a long sigh.

CLINGING TO THE END | CHAPTER I