Soon her mother also blamed her for siding with her father. They would drag her into their arguments, and, on occasion, join their forces against her. Nothing she would do or say would make any difference. Nothing would buy her some peace. She soon gave up and put all her strength in trying to survive, to stay sane. To do that, she turned to her books and learned how to cope with hardship from her favorite authors. She dragged herself through school; nothing took her mind off her family issues anymore.
One day, it was over. She turned eighteen and had two more weeks to finish high school. As her parents briefly halted their daily disputes to wish her a joyless, happy birthday, she broke the news to them.
"I am out of here," she said, with a cold determination in her voice. "I already have a job and a place to stay, and my bags are packed. As of today, as I am sure you already know, I have become of age, and this is my first decision as an adult."
After the initial shock, both her parents attempted to turn her decision. Her father said, "We had dreams for you. You were going to college. This is what you wanted, right?" He looked confused and suddenly older by ten years.
She explained in a softer voice, "I can't do that while living here, Dad, I really can't. Maybe I will be able to go to college later, after settling in on my own."
Then her mother's intervention came as a painful shock. "Well, if that's your decision, then learn to live with it. You may not take anything with you on your way out. You haven't paid a dime for any of the items you call yours. Therefore, you will leave here with nothing. I expect the clothes you are wearing to be returned by tomorrow. You have one minute to leave this house. Oh, and don't you ever come back."
Alex was speechless, as she opened the front door. She closed it behind her, and, as she was walking away, she heard her father yell at her mother, "How could you do that to your own child?"
Her mother opened the door and called Alex back. She was stupidly hoping for an apology, or kind words, or good-luck wishes. Her mother said, "You forgot to leave your keys!"
Time had started its healing process.
At first, she lived in a small, one-bedroom basement apartment in Mt. Angel, constantly afraid she'd run into her parents on the street or at the mall. She feared that her landlady would one day judge her for leaving home or talk to her parents about her. She worked as a customer-service representative, barely making enough to cover her rent and expenses. She graduated from high school and forged her mother's signature on a change-of-address notice to the school, allowing her to receive all documents and transcripts at her new address, without having to ask her parents for them.
Neither of them showed up at her graduation ceremony. She kept looking for them in the crowd, but they weren't there. Naturally, she would have liked to show her parents she could still go on.
She had saved some money before leaving home — money she had earned in secret while tutoring young children in math and science. That money turned out to be useful in helping her get the bare necessities for her new life.
She hadn't found any logical reason to comply with her mother's demand to personally return her clothing by the next day. She couriered them instead, underwear included, saving herself from more pain and aggravation.
Then she started the systematic rebuilding of her life. She filed for a copy of her birth certificate, changed the address on her driver's license, and then started looking for a way to move to the big city. There were more job opportunities in Portland. She could make more money and meet more people — people who didn't know her family. Her only friend cynically argued that she wanted to put more distance between her and her parents to decrease the risk of running into them.
Of all the things she left at her parents' house, she missed her computer the most. She was able to find an older computer that she could afford and bought it. Later, she upgraded it herself. Once she had that problem solved, she started looking for a job and a new apartment in Portland.
When she moved away from Mt. Angel, all her possessions fit loosely in a rental sedan. Two years later, she was halfway though her college degree, and a beat-up blue Chevy was making her life a lot easier. She was gaining confidence in her abilities, and she was drawing strength from her achievements. She was ready for her next move: San Diego.
On occasion, she received phone calls from her father, who wanted to know how she was. She could barely endure the conversations; there was nothing left to say. She had never again spoken to her mother, and her last memory of the woman was of that moment when she had handed her the house keys.
She was healing slowly. For a long time, she had felt a sort of suffocating anger, waking her in the middle of the night, making her want to pick up the phone and ask her parents how they could have done that to her. She resisted that impulse. After a while, it disappeared, replaced with feelings of deep loneliness. She fought those feelings by reading, working, studying, and then one day she realized she had become comfortable on her own. She rarely cried anymore. Her only tears appeared on the rare times when she watched a movie in which a happy family was gathered around a Christmas meal.
…13
Steve Mercer had been with The Agency for more than ten years. He enjoyed the practical applications of his extensive knowledge of human psychology. He could function equally well in customer service or human resources leadership. With bright, almost translucent blue eyes and a tall, proud posture, he instantly captured the attention of everyone in the room. His voice was melodious, while assertive and strong. He was persuasive and liked to hear himself speak, carefully constructing the messages he conveyed, in both content and feeling. He was Alex's assigned trainer for the day, and he was enjoying every minute of it.
"Companies can be like countries. You can find every possible political struggle tearing up the guts of a company. Fights over power, coups and counter-coups, opposition and dissidence, political imprisonment, espionage, sabotage, or even commando-type actions can take place, with the sole purpose of shifting power toward one or another of the players."
Alex was all ears, listening with an interest she never thought she would have for a training session. Usually, training had been boring and too slow for her fast and analytical mind. Her expectations were high, from both the course material and the training facilitator. With an IQ of 164, her patience was highly volatile, and her tolerance for mediocre materials was limited. This training session was different. All the information was new to her, concentrated and free of all unnecessary detail, and served by Steve as fast as she could absorb it.
He was continuing the fast-paced presentation, supported by images projected from a Dell laptop to a white screen on the wall.
"In such companies, you will find the darkest traits of modern society: corruption, theft, deceit, blackmail, fear, and worse. Sometimes, the reasons for these actions are downright unbelievable. In these specific environments, you have to be prepared for anything, no matter how absurd. You have to learn to see things through the eyes of different people. Expect things that are not worth doing, based on your system of values, to be well worth it for someone else. For instance, if you wouldn't consider stealing two dollars from someone else's unguarded desk, don't imagine that everyone else thinks the same."