Chapter 3: Hard Lessons
After a few days, I could tell something was off. Nathan’s words felt heavier, his handwriting pinched and tense, like he was gripping the pen too hard.
"What’s wrong?" I finally asked.
He scribbled back, "There’s been a drought out west. A lot of people are fleeing to our area. I saw people with bellies swollen from hunger, so thin their skin looked stretched over bone. When I asked, I learned they’d been eating grass and dirt all along the way. Grass, Rachel. Like cattle."
"There are people selling children behind Market Street. I met a little girl in a flour sack dress, maybe seven, and gave her father a handful of bills. I thought it’d help, but the next day I saw him selling his wife and baby too."
"I was so angry I punched that man. But I can’t understand—how can the world be like this? How can a father sell his own children?"
I couldn’t get the image out of my head—the little girl’s feet bare and cracked, her eyes too old for her face. That night, I couldn’t sleep.
Nathan’s whole life had been safe, cushioned by brownstone walls and family money. Now, the real world was cracking open around him.
"Rachel, you’re from the future—can you change this? There must be something. You said the future is better."
History weighed heavy on me. I couldn’t change what I knew, couldn’t warn him without risking everything. I finally wrote, careful: "What you can do now is study hard."
"Everyone says that. But what’s the point? How does conjugating Latin verbs help that little girl?"
I hesitated, choosing my words. "Everyone studies for different reasons—some want to understand the world, some want money or power. But a great man once said: Education is the most powerful weapon you can use to change the world."
"Education is the most powerful weapon?" Nathan’s writing slowed, thoughtful.
After a long pause: "Maybe if I learn enough, I can help. Maybe I can make a difference."
Then, a sudden shift: "But Rachel, aren’t you only in your twenties? How come you sound just like my old teachers? All wise and proper?"
I laughed so hard I nearly choked on my wine. "Because I’m also a teacher."
"What?" The word was underlined three times, with a little stick figure drawing arms crossed in disbelief.