The Iron Hallway

Chapter 4

"Well, that was a bit dramatic." I remarked as I watched the last bit of Khemera's back disappear from view. 

Hannah shrugged. "He has a point, though. Our generation is the worst this world has ever seen." 

"So is every generation. Besides, who's this 'we', anyway? How old are you?" 

"Sixteen, darlin'. And you?" 

"Twenty-two!" I exclaimed before I realized how the littleness of our age difference disproved my intended point. "Okay, sure, we're sorta the same generation, but also, kinda not!" 

"Ya can waltz 'round the issue like a lil girl all ya want, but I know for a fact, that all you're really doin' is avoidin' the fact that the geezer has a point." 

"Listen, Hannah, I think you're too young and immature to understand what's going on here. This is a sacrifice of my precious time, and it's also a lengthy period of putting my life on the line, and what for? I don't get anything out of it, and frankly, I want to live my full life!" 

Hannah pouted. "So I'm young an' immature, now? You're the one shoutin'. And besides, just like you said earlier, this would be an expedition of altruism. Hordes o' people would benefit from your sacrifices, if ya took this up." 

"What have 'people' done for me? Not helped themselves out of their own mess?" In the silence that followed, I exclaimed, "Exactly! I have everything to lose and nothing to gain!" 

"But that's just the point, sir! Not everythin' is 'bout you and me. Sometimes, we gotta let ourselves and our wants go on the back burner while the needs of others go front and center. Y'know what I mean?" 

"I guess so...but here's the thing: I have nothing to bring to the table myself! I'm just an author!" 

"I read the other day, 'great men are often born out of necessity, rather than talent'. An' I agree with that. I mean, just think o' Calwell Hankins! He was just a shoeshiner before takin' the burden upon his shoulders to lead your people into a new era of peace 'n prosperity!" 

I paused for a second and absorbed the teenager's surprising wisdom. "I guess...you've got...a point there." I stammered. 

Hannah grinned. "I know I've gotta point." 

"But you yourself said you didn't have the skill set Khemera needs! What gives?" 

"That was mah first reaction. Then I thought it over s'more, and realized, I ain't a marksman, but I gotta shotgun." 

I smirked. "That's true. I wish I could say something similar." 

Just then, Khemera returned. As he slid into the booth beside me once more, he slapped me brutally in the back of the head. 

"Ow!" I shouted, rubbing my stinging nape, "What was that for?" 

"I'm trying to get some sense in that head of yours." Khemera replied in a disgruntled tone before he began to dig into his food. 

"Listen, Khemera, I'm sorry. I—" 

"There's no use talking to me about it." Khemera muttered, not even bothering to look me in the eye, "Fools are gonna be fools." 

I sighed. "I was wrong. Hannah here helped me see what you were saying, and I repeat, sir, I was wrong." 

Khemera's eyes darted up to meet Hannah's before they drifted back down to his food. "Sorry for slapping you, then." 

"Apology accepted. Now, who you should be slapping is Jedrek!" 

The old man turned his head to meet my gaze, his eyes full of fire. "And why in the world would I do that?"