Joan:

The shower and clean clothes were rejuvenating. I followed a delicious smell into the kitchen where Kamal was busy over a stovetop.

He turned when he heard me enter, “Hey there, you feeling better?”

I smiled and nodded, “much better.”

He smiled back, “Excellent, by the way, we’re having marinated tofu and sautéed vegetables for dinner, is that alright?” he asked.

"Yeah that's great by me," I replied, salivating a little. I hadn't realized how hungry was for real food until I smelled it.

“Help yourself to our fruit bowl, I just bought and washed them yesterday,” he said turning back to the skillet. I grabbed a pink apple from the top and bit into it. “Would you mind taking a banana to Hank? He’s out in the garage; you can get there through the back door. Make sure he eats it, the doctor says he needs more potassium in his diet,” Kamal nodded toward the back door.

“No problem,” I said, grabbing the prescribed fruit. The dogs were all playing in the yard, which was scattered with toys. The fence connected to the garage wall and there was the side door.

I walked in a heard Hank immediately say, “don’t let the dogs in with you,” so I quickly closed the door behind me. The small garage was really an office and crafting space combined. No car could park in here. There were piles of plywood and tools hung along one wall over a workbench. The middle-class extra fridge was in another corner. Hank was sitting at a small desk doing something on a chunky PC laptop. There were two large filing cabinets on either side.

“Kamal asked me to bring you a banana,” I said, offering it to him.

He rolled his eyes but it took it anyway, “thanks,” he said. We both quietly ate our fruit for a moment and I continued to look around. “How do you like my workspace?” he asked.

“It’s nice,” I answered, “what kind of work do you do in here?”

He shrugged, “I do a few things; repair furniture, build things, carve some models for other geeks. Kamal had me set up an Etsy account, its pretty fun.”

I raised my eyebrows in mild surprise, “sounds like it.”

He chuckled, "I also own the local animal shelter, but most of the paperwork can be done from home so I only go in for a few hours each weekday to check on things." He pointed to a picture above the computer, it was of him and several others at the shelter ribbon-cutting ceremony.

“Now that is awesome,” I observed. He grinned, I felt bad about what I was going to ask next but it was time to lay a few cards on the table. “So why is Big Dic Energy after you?” I said, almost wincing when his smile faded. He took his baseball cap off and ran a hand through his hair.

“Several years back I led a public protest against them, they were polluting the environment and paying off EPA officials rather than comply with policies,” he sounded so tired as he told me this, “Back then I was a co-founder of this environmentally conscious group of independent journalists. That group no longer exists.” He fixed his cap back on his head, “While we existed, we made life hell for them, at one point we got the names and headshots of the big wigs and plastered them everywhere. Those sorry sons o' guns couldn't buy a doughnut without being harassed." He gave a small smirk and shook his head. "I was much younger and dumber then. In the end, B.D. energy was pressured by state politicians to comply with EPA guidelines so they wouldn't be allowed to keep adding plants. A fat lot of good it did in the long run," Hank sighed.

I raised my eyebrows and exclaimed, “What are you talking about? That’s a huge victory! Most movements like that run out of steam way before the finish line.”

He smiled sadly, "we won that battle but it should be obvious that we lost the war. One of the hundreds of plants complied but I know for a fact they still cut corners wherever they can. We were outmanned, out-resourced, and out of our league, and B.D. Energy made sure we’d never forget how powerless we really are.” A dark look crossed his face and he crossed his arms over his chest.

I hesitated before quietly asking, “What happened?” Hank looked into the distance instead of meeting my eye. The pause so long that for a moment I thought he didn’t intend to answer.

Eventually, he spoke, "I was arrested for assault on one of the CFO's." Another pause, I didn't dare break it and he didn't dare look at me. “It wasn’t true," he explained quietly, "I never laid a hand on anyone, hell, I led protest workshops to make sure my people knew to never get violent." Hank was practically whispering, I'd never heard so much raw vulnerability in his voice before. "It was because of the cameras," he continued, "news coverage can be a protestor's gift from God or worst nightmare. B.D. saw an opportunity to throw controversy into the mix and took it. One minute this suited guy is looking me in the eye while I’m chanting, the next he’s on the ground.” He closed his eyes and exhaled sharply, “like an idiot I made a move to help him but security thought I was attacking him. The next thing I know I’m on the ground feeling like my skin is on fire from the guard’s taser. When I looked back at the suit he actually smiled at me.”

I clenched my teeth, “Bastard,” I said under my breath I could feel Hank glance up at me but I kept my eyes on my sneakers and gripped the sides of the bench I was sitting on.

He gave a half-hearted laugh, "Yeah, got me three months in the big house. Let me tell you that was plenty, I don't know how anyone lasts years in there." An involuntary shudder passed through him.

I met Hank’s eye and gave a sincere, “I’m sorry,” because I really was.

Hank looked back thoughtfully, “its really ok, I’m fine now as you can see.” He gestured around him and smiled.

I smiled back, "I just have one more question about this if that's ok?"

Hank nodded, “Sure, so long as you're ok with answering my questions afterward."

I nodded, “Fair enough. So why is B.D. Energy still interested in you if after the shit hit the fan you quit protesting to settle down and live in peace?”

He shifted in his chair and grinned sheepishly, "I may have given up screwing with them as a career, doesn't mean I can't do it as a hobby." I sat up with a new surge of curiosity and would have probed further but Hank held up a hand. "Hey now, it's my turn to ask the questions,” he said smirking.

I scowled, “fine, fair’s fair.”

Just then, Kamal opened the door, “Dinner’s ready!” I looked at Hank and he nodded, to be continued I guess.