The Magic of Light

Chapter

Thirty-Five

Soren

I watched Lane and Jonah go for a round in the ring. Lane was all talk, which thankfully he could back up most of the time, but Jonah fought as he lived. Jonah was like watching a panther. He was quiet, intense, and dodged hits with an unmatched fluidity while also intimidating his opponent with his intensity. I fought against him regularly, but often lost. He was a black belt in karate, trained in Krav Maga, and was a Veteran Marine. Both men were shirtless and sweating from exertion. I stood to the side, having completed a five-mile run on the treadmill. Unexpectedly, Jonah threw a right hook that connected with Lane’s face, and the timer on Jonah’s phone went off. I reached to silence it as they returned to their corners and toweled off their faces and chests.

“Man, you’ve been practicing without me?” Lane asked, working to catch his breath.

“You know he’s always practicing,” I stated, and we both knew it to be true. Lane had upped his gym time to help with the anxiety he’d been having lately, but Jonah was still a beast to fight against. He’d never said why he felt the need to push so hard, but if I had to guess, it was because of the hell he’d been through as a kid. My demons were playthings compared to the things he and Landry had been through. They fought tooth and nail for everything they had and were two of the best humans I knew.

We made our way to the water bottle station and refilled our bottles.

“Anybody in a rush tonight?” Lane asked.

Jonah met my eyes, and we both gave a negative response and headed for the table unsure of what Lane was about to say.

“I have an idea, and I want to run it by both of you,” Lane laid out.

“I’ve been thinking of ways to help the kids in Kennedy and other small towns similar to ours. Ever since I began coaching at the high school last year, I’ve been seeing up close how some of the families in town are living. I want to help but not make it seem like a handout, because the people that seriously need help won’t go for that. I ran some ideas by one of my baseball buddies that has a few organizations in inner city Detroit. Obviously, it’d have to be adapted to accommodate a rural town, but I was thinking of a resource center. There’d be tutoring, therapy, financial classes, and maybe we can partner with the gym for self-defense. Something that maybe people can volunteer at to give the impression they are giving back. Maybe a perk could be gift cards to the grocery store to help make ends meet, or therapy for kids having issues in school. Sure, there’s a school counselor, but it’s not enough,” He reasoned, rubbing the towel down his neck again. Lane was always searching for ways to give back, and I had partnered with him multiple times over the last eight years.

“I like it. I might have a space you can use. The old Flanagan building is almost done with renovations,” Jonah offered.

Most people didn’t know it, but Jonah had a business sense that was awe-inspiring. After serving six years as a Marine, he started flipping real estate until he had amassed more properties than anyone in our small town even knew about. Most people simply thought of him as the guy in town that owned the gym, but there was a lot more to Jonah Gaines than met the eye. He used the money he made off his properties to buy more properties and to take care of Landry and Hope while Landry finished her college degree as a single mom.

“Both things sound solid to me. If you decided to add a small food pantry, I could donate fresh beef and volunteer time in my slower seasons. And of course I’d back it with Abel’s foundation. Maybe we could use the building for weekly AA meetings, too. The Flanagan building is only two blocks from school, so kids could walk down after class. The library is next door. Maybe they could provide a tutor,” I suggested.

We talked out the logistics. Lane had a plan to move forward, and we decided we’d meet tomorrow to walk through the Flanagan building and see if the current floor plan would work.