How to Pave a Road

They say the road I’m on is paved with good intentions. To that I say…

At least, I tried.

~*~*~

I’m sorry, I missed your question. Where’d I go wrong? Was that it?

Right.

Well.

You know when you meet someone who says they want to change the world. Always make sure you ask…

“How?”

~*~*~

“Welcome to Howeling Pharmacies where your health is priceless! How may I help you today?”

“Hi, I’m here to see Mr. Rogers.”

Yep, you guessed it, that’s me. No, not the chipper front desk attendant, the one there for the meeting silently contemplating why priceless things always seem to cost an exorbitant amount.

“Of course, if I could just have your name.”

“Blake.”

The pause was just as awkward in person as it is watching it.

“Oh, I get it, like Beyoncé!” she said after checking her monitor. “You can go on in.”

No, not like Beyoncé. Beyonce´ is a goddess. I’m just… human.

Regardless, I followed her instructions and entered a luxurious elevator with an unobtrusive giant guarding the buttons. I didn’t have to tell him to take me to the penthouse. Somehow, he already knew… probably from the conspicuous earpiece trailing a wire down his neck and under his blazer.

I was expecting the extravagance when I stepped out. It still hit me like a beautiful slap to the face. I mean, that view. Wow.

“Ah, yes. Just the person I wanted to see.” Mr. Rogers, AKA CEO Rogers, AKA the most under the radar, richest man in the world said as he strode forward to hug me like an old friend. Again, yes, it was just as awkward as it seems. “Good to see you, Blake…”

What was it with the people at that company and long pauses?

“Ah, I see, like Sia.”

Again, no. Sia has a voice like a frickin’ angel. Mine is just… me.

“Well, Blake, I hear you have the answer I’ve been looking for.”

“Yes, sir,” I said. “I cracked the formula. With your resources, we can start mass producing a cure, an affordable cure.” 

I wish I’d added that last bit… I thought it was implied.

Mr. Rogers smiled. It was big and welcoming, slightly sweet with just the right amount of grandfatherly charm. 

“You and me, Blake,” he said. “We’re going to change the world.”

~*~*~

Phase 1: Everything’s Coming Up Blake

My first six months were incredible. My formula was passing every test R&D could throw at it, we were on track to hit production by the end of the year, and I’d just finished cleaning an entire old forgotten room of beakers that were were truly disgusting. I’m talking old samples just sitting there reacting and decaying. The smell… it’s something that will stick with me to my grave. I was pretty sure my team would throw me a party once they saw it, not that I did it for a party. I just wanted to help. 

“Remi, this is Blake. Blake, this is the new intern Remi.” The introduction was quick as Jamie, the R&D team lead, metaphorically pushed a slightly overwhelmed teenager my way. If you think you’re overwhelmed, kid, you should see what Jamie has to do on a daily basis. “You don’t mind showing him around do you?”

Jamie was already walking toward her workstation so… I guess not?

“Nice to meet you, Blake. I’m Remi Meadows. I don’t think I caught your last name.”

He was an intern, so he hadn’t adopted long pauses yet.

“It’s just Blake.”

“Oh, cool! Like Thor.”

No, not like… well, maybe… no, not like Thor. He has those ridiculously god-like muscles. Mine are… perfectly acceptable, but not quite god-tier.

“So Blake, what are we going to do today?” Remi asked. Oh, Remi…

“We’re going to help change the world.”

We wore matching smiles as I turned to the closest experiment. It was the one Jill from the Birth Control team had kicked off the day before, something about curbing side effects.

“What the!?!” Jamie’s voice echoed down the hall. She’d noticed the room of beakers, the room of clean beakers. I preened, already imagining myself receiving praise and acclaim. I was so very proud of myself. “Who cleaned out the Alpha experiment!?! It’s been running for TEN YEARS! Ten years of my life down the drain…”

I think we can cut it there. The rant went for a while and got a little rated R at points. You get the idea… oops.

~*~*~

Phase 2: Falling back to Earth is painful. The ground is hard.

One year, one month, and one day after I walked into Mr. Rogers’s office my cure was ready. 

The first sale was on July 20th, the same day Neil Armstrong walked on the moon.

It sold for five thousand and ten times more than its cost to make and required regular doses.

I stormed into Mr. Roger’s office. I was furious. I was enraged. I was… too angry to come up with another synonym.

“What is this?” I demanded, holding up the front page article on that morning’s newspaper.

“Blake,” he said greeting me with the same grandfatherly smile he always used. I was beginning to see the slyness of it. “Just Blake, like Aristotle.”

No, not like Aristotle. Aristotle wasn’t the best guy, but he did come up with Virtue Ethics—even if he didn’t think they would apply to me—meanwhile I just helped implement a cure that would indebt millions of people to a self-important pharmaceutical company.

“Mr. Rogers,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “What. Is. This?”

“Why, it’s your cure!” he said slapping a hand on my shoulder. “You should be proud. You’re saving thousands of lives.”

“Millions are suffering.”

“And when they become more productive members of society, they can receive the cure, too.”

I should have punched him.

“How productive will they be when they’re under a mound of crippling debt?”

“Look, we have to make a profit,” he said never losing his smile. “It’s how the world works.”

~*~*~

Phase 3: Try, try again. — William Edward Hickson

So, yeah. 

I helped a company cure thousands, only to saddle them with a burden large enough to bury them. 

I’m probably on the road to Hell, and that… sucks.

But…

I hear the way out is paved the same way so…

Let’s go change the world.