30. All Systems Overloaded
ALL SYSTEMS OVERLOADED
OWEN
W hen I get to my truck, I start driving with no plan as to where I’m going.
I find myself on a road out of town that’s narrow, with no shoulder, where most of the time, I have green fields spread out on one side and lots of trees on the other.
Only an occasional home. I’ve never been on this road before, and I don’t care where it’s taking me.
I only make it about fifteen minutes out of town before the road has a shoulder again, and I pull off to the side.
The moment I do, I get out my phone and open the app that shows the cameras in The Shadowridge.
Not that I’m expecting to see Giovanni, some courier dropping off a package, or even a hint out a window of whatever officer or agent is watching the building.
I do it because I need confirmation that this place I love is okay.
Fifteen minutes. That’s as long as I made it.
I keep switching between each of the cameras, looking for nothing, yet not being able to bring myself to stop.
I can’t believe I never clued in on Giovanni’s plans to use The Shadowridge as a front.
When I look for investors, I usually find them through networking in my field, researching philanthropists who may be interested in projects like mine, or talking to past donors of similar projects.
I found Giovanni through a mix of those.
Initially, through research, then through someone I didn’t know well, but whom I’d seen at several networking events.
He made the introduction, and Giovanni seemed interested, so we talked and I pitched the project to him.
I look back at that initial phone call through the lens of the information I learned tonight, searching my mind for any clues.
I don’t remember anything that seemed off.
Over the next several weeks, I met with him via video call often, showing him the space, my proposal, discussing the scope, history, impact, timeline, funding needs, all of it.
Every step of the way, he seemed as excited by the project as I was.
Was he excited because of its potential as a drop location for his illicit business, and I just interpreted it as excitement for the restoration itself? Had I just been projecting?
He’d sent out a team to look at the site, and I didn’t notice that anything was off. We worked through a draft of the funding agreement with lawyers together, negotiating the timeline and restoration conditions for nearly two months.
From that first phone call up until now, I’ve given him updates at least weekly. How could I have been so blind to such a big issue? I must not have checked everything as well as I thought I had. And now everything is about to collapse.
I know that everything can change in a single night.
It did when my grandpa died. And it did the night of the football banquet when I was injured in that accident.
I was blindsided by both of those events, too, just like tonight.
Why does badness come after me? I rub my knee that is suddenly hurting.
Maybe I haven’t come as far as I thought I had in forgiving Cordell because right now, I’m mad at him again. It just feels like there’s no justice.
I cycle through all the cameras again. My heart is already aching for the loss of it that’s on the horizon.
As much as I love this building, I love Charlie even more.
When I decide that I’m all in on something—which is what I’ve done with both The Shadowridge and with Charlie—then I’m all in.
What if I lose her right along with the building?
It’s possible the building won’t be lost. I know there’s a glimmer of hope.
But I also know it won’t be easy, even if it does end up being possible.
What if new funding takes a long time to secure?
What if I have to go through the approval process and get all new permits?
What if the timing doesn’t work out with the Philadelphia train station restoration?
Will it take so much time that I won’t see Charlie even if she does stick around?
My crew needs work. They didn’t like being off for two days when I couldn’t get the insulation.
They won’t be able to just wait around for me during whatever delay is caused after Giovanni is arrested, before I can even start looking for new funding, and then during the months it’ll take to finalize it.
And that’s if I can even find funding. It won’t be like finding it the first time around.
My regular crew has already melded. It always takes a bit, but now they’re working so well together. I’ll likely not be able to get them all back—if I can get any of them back. They’ll have to move on to other jobs.
And what will Charlie do when I’m working further away?
When there’s so much more than a single wall separating us?
Will she move on, too? Probably. I think back to what Luis said about me choosing people who reinforced my belief that people always leave.
But I didn’t do that with Charlie. And yet, here we are.
I know I’m spiraling. I can feel it. But I also can’t seem to stop it.
There are just so many unknowns. I like being able to wake up in the morning and sing my to-do list because I know what to expect of the day.
What will tomorrow bring? Another day where I can go to work and make progress, ignoring The Shadowridge’s impending doom?
Or will it be the day that things implode?
Can I ever tell my crew if I can’t tip off Giovanni?
Charlie gave me advance warning. Will I not be able to do the same for my crew?
I close out of the camera app and get out of my truck. I lean my back against the bed, close my eyes, and breathe in the night air slowly until my body calms and I can think straight without the spiral.
This whole situation sucks. That’s just the way it is.
I tell myself that it’s okay to grieve this place I love so much.
But just like Charlie said, the outcome I fear the most isn’t guaranteed.
And Luis warned me that my brain was already halfway packed for a breakup with Charlie.
I can survive losing The Shadowridge. I can’t lose Charlie.
I have got to find a way past this, or I think I’ll be guaranteeing that’s exactly what will happen.