Wretched by Offer Reish (most important books of all time txt) 📕

1

Warm, sticky bodies were pressing one against the other. Arms and shoulders crashed against each other repeatedly. Shirts were wet with sweat and mouths were dry with an unattended thirst. Breaths were short, rapid and intense, the air stifling and not at all pleasant. There was hardly any room to move, and even if there had been there was nowhere to go. A thick stench of a hundred different odors combined lay over the entire area. Strangers who weren't even aware of one another's existence were unified in a frenzied group. You couldn't tell where you were in relation to the others, how many were there with you or who they were. It was hard to explain why everybody found it desirable to be there, but at the same time there was no place they'd rather be instead.

Perhaps it was the heated, contagious excitement that had driven them there. Or the curiosity, or simply the will to be part of something great. Wherever it originated, the drive massing the people together and propelling them in the same direction was so strong that if it caught you, you couldn't resist it. There was such tangible vigor enveloping the whole crowd that even if you didn't know why you were there, you were bound to start yelling what they yelled and pumping your fists in the same way as they were.

And you would love it. You would love the adrenaline rushing to every corner of your body, and the alertness of your every sense trying to pick up every detail in your surroundings. You would love that belligerence, that sense of fighting for something, even if you were the most peaceful person in the world. You would love that incredible sense of power engendered by the mass of strangers around you fighting with you against a common enemy. You would even love the heat, the sweat, the stench, the crowdedness, the need to push and shove to keep your place and the need to strain yourself for a decent breath of air. You would love everyone around you and they would love you, although they wouldn't know who you were. For a short while, you would share the strongest bond with people whom you would soon part with and never meet again.

There were many thousands of people thus gathered in this manic mass at the Eastern part of the city's main square, and they were all embroiled in this wonderful burst of zeal. All except for the kid, who wasn't quite part of it. Leonardo was there for one reason only: to hear the young lady on stage. He was fascinated by her, and sitting on his older brother's shoulders, he did nothing but stare at her through a small space between the necks of two large men standing in front of him.

"Justice", her strong, feminine voice blared through the microphone. She always ended these demonstrations talking about justice. Since everyone likes to associate themselves with such a noble notion as justice, this was usually the peak of every demonstration she led. It was Leonardo's favorite part, though he never quite understood what she meant by it.

"She is sneaky and evasive, but here we have tracked her down." Here the crowd erupted in a boisterous wave of support, as though all the people had ever wanted to do was to track down justice. To Leonardo none of it mattered, none of it ever took place except for the girl's words and the poised intensity of her every move.

"Her captors are still holding her hostage, but we will tolerate it no longer. Only once we have caught her with our own two hands will we be deserving of her. And when that moment comes, the politicians and the Industry will be accountable before her!"

Now the roar emitted by the crowd rose to new heights, its magnitude surprising even the people themselves. And with the magnificent roar came a general frenzy of pure enthusiasm. Leonardo's brother almost toppled sideways, and their mother shrieked in panic. A fat hand accidentally smacked Leonardo's head from behind, and to his right a few youngsters began to jump up and down with exhilaration. Some unfathomable chant rose from the heart of the crowd, denouncing the captors of justice whose identity everyone seemed to know. Everybody was gripped with excitement- whether this was due to the prospect of bringing out justice, 'flaying' the politicians and the Industry (as someone was heard bellowing), or simply of achieving victory it didn't matter, since it all came together in a single unified burst of emotion.

But Leonardo didn't realize any of this. He didn't realize the deafening outcry, the fat man from behind, the people jumping beside him or his mother clutching his left hand so hard it stopped the blood flow. The only thing his faculties registered was the young lady, who seemed just as impassive as he was to the reactions of the crowd. Jessica (everybody- everybody- knew her name) was a beautiful woman, which not even her simple attire and unpretentious appearance on stage could hide. She spoke with directness and honesty and at the same time with a sweeping persuasiveness that was only possible for someone who had deep, undivided faith in her words. She was so poised on stage that sometimes the audience was afraid to make a noise while she was speaking, but once the first and second brave calls came through, the dam collapsed and the flow couldn't be stopped. It appeared as though the only person in the city who didn't admire and lionize her as a great leader or a star (except for the frustrated politicians and senior members of the Industry), was she.

But Leonardo didn't care about this either. All that was there to him were her big blue eyes scanning the crowd- why she did this he didn't know, but it happened every time and he always hoped she was looking for him. His own little eyes were fixed on hers, waiting for that moment when their eyes met, and there it was… her eyes wandered to the crowd's right, drawing closer and closer to the stage, closer to where he was… just a bit to the left and she would find him… a little more…

No, she'd missed him. Her eyes had jumped over to another part of the audience just before they found him. "Almost", he muttered, though of course nobody understood him. But no matter, he was like a statue, waiting without the will or the ability to move until she would find him. In the meantime her words echoed in his mind, softer but infinitely more powerful than all the voices of all the people in the audience combined.

'Justice… sneaky… we will be deserving of her' rang her smooth, unbreakable voice, as strong and effective in his mind as it had been coming out of the microphone minutes earlier. Her mom called his name once, twice; his brother followed from underneath him, but Leonardo didn't answer.

There it was again, her piercing gaze scouring the crowd, this time from the front back, drawing closer, closer… There it was! She saw him, and if only for a second they exchanged such a meaningful message that it eclipsed the entire demonstration. In this exchange, he expressed his boundless appreciation for her (he was certain she could detect this in his eyes even in the sea of other eyes and emotions), and she her gratitude for his loyalty. He understood that after this fateful moment her eyes had to move along, but his gaze remained fixed on her until his mom jerked his hand so hard that it snapped him out of his fixation and back to his place in the crowd.

"Let's go home boys", his mother said, and she raised him from the armpits off his brother's shoulders, carefully placing him on the ground and kissing him on the forehead. "Did you guys have fun?"

But Leonardo's attention was back on stage, paying the respect due to the men and women standing behind Jessica wearing the black masks. They were all members of The Existents, and they were always standing at the back of the stage when she spoke. Standing like statues, constantly there as part of the landscape but never attracting very much attention. Leonardo wondered if one day he could be there with them, just standing there wearing his own black mask. He squirmed and wriggled his way to the right and to the left, stepping on some woman's foot and bumping into an old man's chest, finally finding a line of vision to all of them. He didn't understand why it had to be so crowded, why the people liked to be so loud, why they had to clamor strange slogans that probably didn't mean anything, and why it was so hot. He didn't like that about these events, but it was still all worth it.

"I think I broke my shoulder, but other than that yes, it was great", his brother, Fred, said, and they made their way back home together under the setting sun, still panting slightly from the heat and excitement of the demonstration.

Just outside the elevator on their way back to their 4th floor apartment they ran into Father Lockworth. As was always the case when their mother, Hailey, bumped into a neighbor, an engaging conversation was struck up. Leonardo was still playing back in his head some of the things Jessica had said, so he didn't pay attention to the conversation until Father Lockworth called his name:

"Hello there, Leo. How are you today?" The Father said slowly in his low, deep voice. Leonardo noticed that he was wearing the black outfit that he always had on. He looked up at the tall man, who was much taller even than Hailey, and, frowning, said blankly:

"Please don't call me Leo, sir. My name is Leonardo." He didn't understand why people called him that. He didn't like it when they changed his name like that, especially when it was somebody whom he wasn't very fond of. And Father Lockworth wasn't someone he was very fond of.

Before Father Lockworth could respond, Hailey emitted an awkward laugh and reminded him that Leonardo didn't like being called Leo (it wasn't the first time she'd told him this), and explained that many people made the confusion. She had such a heartfelt laugh and made people so comfortable in her presence that the awkwardness of the situation was dismantled at once.

"Of course, of course", Father Lockworth muttered, and he nodded slowly. He had a slow way about him: he moved slowly, he spoke slowly, he delivered his sermons at church slowly. That, together with his formality, his low voice, and his graying short hair and very solemn face gave him an altogether distinguished air that commanded even more respect from the people. Even Leonardo respected him. He didn't like him, but since his mother respected him, he did as well.

"We just came back from the demonstration of The Existents", Hailey said with unmistakable excitement. "Have you ever been to one of their events, Father? I think it's absolutely wonderful, what they're doing. What do you think, Father?"

Hailey always spoke differently in Father Lockworth's presence than the way she spoke with other neighbors or acquaintances. It was as though she were requesting his permission or his endorsement rather than sharing information or simply chatting with a friend.

"Yes, I agree. 'Let the man with two tunics share with him who has none, and let him who has food do likewise.' Praise the Lord."

A chuckle suddenly escaped Leonardo's mouth. Why did Father Lockworth always say that- Praise the Lord? Did it please God to hear it every time? He didn't realize Fred's puzzled stare at him, and his thoughts drifted back to the stage, back