Tragedy and Circumstance

I make my way to the mine that collapsed three days ago. When I arrive, there are policemen, ambulances, firemen, and other emergency response teams scouring a pit. I look out at the devastation before me. There is rubble, a sunken in pit, and people shouting at each other. I write in my journal what I see. There are multiple people searching assigned grids for any chance of life.

As I am writing everything that is happening, chaos assumes. I look out, startled, to see ground shifting below a group of first responders. They all scream and struggle to reach for something, anything, to hold on to. And just as other people start running toward the chaos, but before anyone could reach them, five people are taken under the earth. Screams and cries echo all around me. People yell in a foreign language. Police push crowds of people away from the ledge. I just stood there, completely stunned. I can' t believe what my eyes are seeing. I feel a rush of wind ensuing my entire body. The hair stands up on the back of my neck and my arms.

Police escort the crowds of people away from the scene as we hear more sirens blaring over the ridge. I am forced to leave the scene. I make my way back to the hostel in a daze. I haven't really grasped or comprehended what I just saw. I reach the steps of the hostel and trip. I break down in a fit of tears. I feel a hand on my back.

"What's wrong? What happened? Are you okay? Were you injured?" Christian lifts my face to look into his eyes.

I continue to cry and try to make the words come out of my mouth but all I could get out was, "Men- pulled- the ground- swallowed- they're gone."

He just holds me and sits with me until my tears subside. "Could you repeat that, please?" He asks, softly.

I sighed out a long shaky breath. "A group of men were surveying an area of the mine." I look over at Christian, and he just looks at me intensely. "The ground started to shift, and then a sinkhole opened up and pulled five men down." I cleared my throat and continue on, "I tried to stay but the police pushed us all out of the way, and I had to leave." I gasp. "I need to make a phone call."

I pull out my phone and make a call to President Clark. He answers ten minutes later and I tell him what happened. He tells me to interview families of the tragedy and report back to him after that. I hang up, and Christian is still sitting beside me on the steps.

"Was that your boss?" He asks.

"One of them, yes." I admit. I stand up and make my way to the lobby doors.

"Hey, a few mates and I are going to a local pub if you want to join in?" He asks, walking in behind me.

"I don't drink anymore. I haven't in four years, and I don't plan to start again."

"Oh. I just thought you'd-"

"What? Need a drink after all that? Yeah. Yeah I'm in desperate need of a drink. Which is exactly why I CAN'T drink." I punch the elevator button.

"Hey!" Christian yells behind me as I board the elevator. "Hey!" He yells again. I turn to look at him. I cross my arms and he scoffs. "What did I do to you anyway?" He demands.

"Are you kidding?" I swing my hip to the right. He just raises his eyebrows at me. "When you were working on the R and J showcase with me, you were a complete jerk! Then, one night, I forgot my bag in the cubby-hole outside of the dance room and I heard you talking to Rebecca. You said, and I quote, 'I mean the choreography is ridiculous. It's like she has absolutely no idea what she is even doing.'" I look at him to see if he remembers. And just as he goes to say something, the elevator roars to a complete stop. The lights turn out, and a red light starts blinking above us. "You've got to be joking right now!" I yell and hit the side of the elevator.

Christian tries hitting the open door button over and over again, the third floor button, and then every single button on the wall. He sighs, dejected, and then slides down on the floor. "It wasn't what you thought." He finally says, softly.

"What?" I ask, curtly.

He scoffs. He starts wringing his hands together. "I wasn't talking about you, April."

"Oh..." I slide down on the floor across from him. "Then who?"

"You remember I was in the Performing Arts Academy?" I nod. "I was talking about a professor who was teaching the class choreography for our finals." He puts his hands on the floor next to him and pushes his back straight against the elevator wall. "She had us doing some ridiculous, ostentatious dance to some old 60s song. It was totally absurd!" He starts laughing. Then he looks at me intensely. "I thought your vision for Romeo and Juliet was amazing, April. You did a wonderful job. Everyone, and I mean everyone was impressed and loved working with you." He chuckles again. "If you would have stuck around to overhear the ENTIRE conversation, you probably would have known that. Instead of making absurd assumptions." He shakes his head.

"I admit that I made assumptions just on the part of your conversation that I overheard. But-"

"What?" He interrupts. I just shrug my shoulders. "Is there some other reason you don't like me?"

"You just seem so full of yourself." I admit. "I mean, even your songs and videos you have out there! All of your songs are objectifying women. You talk about being in love with their bodies and it's just-"

"Crude?" He interrupts me again. Then he sighs. He shakes his head in disbelief. "Is that all?"

I scoff. Then the elevator turns back on. "Thank god." I say and stand back up. The elevator reaches our floor and we exit. Christian tries to say something else, but I just shrug him off and go inside. I go back to the spare room I'm staying in and shut the door. I throw myself on the bed and cry again. Christian tries to open the door behind me, but I lock the door. He says something but I couldn't make it out. I bury my head under pillows and blankets.

I wake up fourteen hours later to pounding on my door. "Oi, are you still alive in there?" James slurs on the other side of the door.

I groan and slide off the side of the bed. I must have fallen asleep. My stomach growls and I let out a sigh as I pull my hair out of my messy bun.The pounding on my door resumes. I throw open the door and James stumbles through. He reeks of stale liquor and vomit. I contort my face into one of disgust. Christian looks back the hallway at me and chuckles. I glare at the man rolling on the floor.

"I'm getting a shower." James whistles. "Do NOT follow me!" I yell at the hungover man in front of me. I take a long, hot shower. I prepare what I want to do today for interviews of the families that were lost at the mine. I get out of the shower and put on a fresh pair of clothes. I walk out into the kitchen and put bread in the toaster and pour myself some orange juice. "James?" I turn in James's direction. He just looks over at me. "Do you speak Welsh?"

"Welsh? Not well. Just well enough to order a drink and ask where the Loo is." He slurs.

"I do." Christian states. I just stare at him open mouthed. "What? I learned Welsh as a young lad. It's not a big deal." He runs his hands through his hair.

My toast pops up and I put butter and jelly on it. I take a bite, then mull over the thoughts turning in my mind. My mouth speaks before my mind had a chance to object, "You're going with me then."

Christian coughs. "What? And where are we going, exactly?" His eyes widen, then he furrows his brows.

"We're not going anywhere until you clean yourself up and brush your teeth." I say to him. They both just stare at me like I have two heads. "Then, we're going to the hospital so I can interview some family members."

A few hours later and Christian and I walked into the lobby of the hospital near the mine. Families are scattered all over the first floor of the hospital. Some people are crying, some are yelling and pleading with doctors, and others are just staring blankly at the floor. I look over at Christian who is wearing light wash blue jeans and a long sleeved button down shirt to hide his full sleeve tattoos. He looks over at me, but I can't quite read his expression.

"What are you going to do? Walk up to some poor grieving family and ask them how they're dealing with the death of their family members?"

"More or less." I sigh. "That's my job, you know?" I walk over to a woman who paces in front of a row of seats. "Excuse me, ma'am. Can I ask you a few questions?" Christian translates for me. The woman looks up and nods. We sit down and I ask her a series of questions while Christian translates for us. He actually does a really good job, but I can tell that he is being affected by all of this. We talk to five more families. We spend the majority of the day here, before he says we have a train to catch. "Thank you." I say to him.

He smiles. "You're very welcome." He says to me, holding open my door for me.

James drives us to the train station and we board the train to go back to Manchester. Christian just laid on the top bunk bed in silence while I sat at the table writing everything down. I pull out my phone and dial the president's number again. I hear the same automated message until the president finally answers.

"Sir, thank you for taking my call." I tell him everything that I saw and learned from the families.

"Do you believe that my presence is needed there?"

"May I be direct, sir?" I ask. He agrees and I continue, "You are running for office again right?" He says he is, "Then yes, I think it would be good for you to visit with the families and see the mine yourself. It would show that you are sympathetic and that you care about life and family."

He laughs on the other line. "Wow!" He exclaims. "Maybe you should be my Secretary of State." He laughs again. "Then again... That wouldn't be an all bad idea."

I snort in disbelief. "Yeah right, sir." I laugh.

"Return to the residence house when you arrive back in D.C. I want an in person briefing when you arrive. Give my congratulations to your mother." He stops himself, "Well, no don't do that." Then the phone hangs up.

I swear I age five more years every time I hear that man's voice. Christian rolls over on his side and looks at me with raised eyebrows. I just wave him off and he rolls back on his back. We finally arrive back in Manchester and head back to the estate. Christian didn't ask any questions, but I could tell he had something on his mind.

"What?" I finally broke the silence. He looks over at me from the drivers seat. "You have been uncharacteristically quiet since we left the hospital. So out with it, what's on your mind?"

He sighs and finally answers, "It was just... humbling." He looks at me and then the road again. "I haven't had much experience with loss in my life, so that was really hard."

"I've had nothing but loss in my life." I say, quietly.

"What do you mean?" He asks. He grips the steering wheel even tighter.

"I lost my Nona when I was a young teenager. Two days after my wedding, I lost my father, and then a year later, I-" I suck in a breath. "I lost my husband."

"Right. My father told me about that." He twists his hands back and forth on the steering wheel.

"What about your mom?" He doesn't say anything. "What happened to her?" I ask.

"She left when I was young. She was having an affair with one of the servants at the house and ran off with him. She thought that my father was a more suitable parent than her. So, she flitted around the continent until she spent all of my father's money that was left to her, and then tried to come back eight years later. She shows up drunk off her ass and says how much she missed me and my dad. My dad called the police to have her escorted off the property." His grip loosens on the steering wheel. "I was fifteen at the time. There was a huge part of me that was so angry at her, but there was still a part of me that wished she was genuinely wanting back in our lives."

"Where is she now?" I feel like I should tread lightly.

"Prison."