1. The characters in this story are obviously fictional, but the events are related to reality – though not actually based on it.
2. Timeline: this story takes place around December 1998, near the end of the first semester.
3. Timeline II: though it's 1998 in the story, the reality described is more like March/April 1996 or 2002. The more things change…
4. This story in "Aftermath" is titled "On The Inside".
Reviews, as always, are welcome.
Project: Aftermath
Trini Kwan
12:00
Thank god, thought Trini Kwan, as she packed away her writing-pad, pens and tape recorder. The lecture should have ended 15 minutes ago, but Prof. Stienmatz kept the class after time. Normally, Trini didn't mind it so much when her lecturers stretched the lectures, but today she really, really wanted to be home on time. She shouldered her bag and got up to leave. In her hurry, she bumped into someone.
"Careful, Trini!" said Steffie, smiling.
"Sorry, Steff", Trini apologized. "Guess I just didn't watch were I was going"
"It's okay" the tall brunette said. "Why are you in such a hurry?" she continued, "The next lecture is just across the hall"
"I'm going home now", explained Trini.
"What, you're skipping the rest of the day? Is there anything wrong?"
"No, quite the contrary. It's a friend's birthday, and I want to call her first thing in the morning". Trini laughed at Steff's confusion. "She's a friend from home. It's an eight-hours gap from here to the east coast"
"Oh, right – I only have a single-hour time difference, so I keep forgetting about it"
Trini checked her watch. "Look, Steff, I gotta go, okay? I still have some shopping to do on the way"
"Sure, sure. See you tomorrow!"
"See you!"
12:15
Trini saw 25 leaving thestop just as she got to Levanon Street. She glanced quickly at the midday traffic and her watch, and decided against waving for the bus to stop. The driver would probably stop – they usually did – but she wasn't in enough hurry to risk being run over.
And my parents are worried about me being killed in terrorist attack, she mused as she walked down to the bus stop: another 25 would arrive in no more than 10 minutes. It's a good thing nobody told them that more people here get killed in road accidents than by terrorists. This way, they're satisfied that I didn't go to HUJI. The Hebrew University was Trini's first choice; her parents voted it down, claiming that they wouldn't risk their only daughter to Jerusalem. Trini complied. She knew that they were worried enough as it was.
"Why Israel?" insisted her mother. "Why can't you go to college here, in the US?"
"I love Israel, mom", explained Trini patiently.
"If you want to go somewhere foreign, why not Europe?" asked her dad. "You lived in Europe for a few years, but you've only been to Israel for a week. How do you know that it'd be good for you there?"
"Israel is different, dad. I can learn Political Studies anywhere, that's true; but Israel is alive with it."
And that was it. Her parents' agreement was the only obstacle in her way. Between her collage fund and the scholarship she earned from the Peace Conference, Trini had no financial difficulties, and she was accepted to the Tel-Aviv University easily enough.
Leaving her parents was easier than saying goodbye to her friends – again. Kim cried for days; Jason argued with her for weeks, trying to change her mind, but threw her the best goodbye party ever when he realized that he couldn't change her mind; Billy flew in from Aquitar especially for the party. Of the Old Gang, Zack was the most understanding – but then again, he was headed for Sierra Leon.
The tears and the hugs were behind her now. After four months, Trini was more certain than she had been before: Israel was the place for her.
25 arrived at the stop, and Trini hurriedly fumbled for her monthly pass, while queing with the other passengers. Be careful where your thoughts take you, Trini Kwan, she mused, or you'll miss your stop.
12:30
The traffic wasn't as bad as itmight have beenand, twenty minutes later, Trini was not too far from her destination: Dizzengoff Center, her favorite Tel-Aviv shopping spot, comfortably close to the apartment she shared with a second-year Israeli, Shelly.
As a foreign student, Trini was entitled for student's dorms, but she chose to decline. Shefound a 3-room apartment just off the Dizzengoff Center in only two days. The tiny kitchen was a nightmare – Trini admitted that frankly – but her room was spacious, even large, and Shelly was a witty and fun-loving person, who soon became Trini's friend. What's the point in living in Israel, argued Trini, if you didn't hang around with Israelis as much as possible?
Or so was Trini's official explanation. It was true, of course, but it wasn't the only one. Her deeperreason wasthat the other foreign students were more worried than she was. Other than the diplomats' kids, such as Steff – which were a considerable lot – the foreign students were mostly idealistic young people who believed in Israel's struggle, very much like Trini herself. Like Trini, they knew the risks of Israel, and accepted them. Still, they were too wary for her liking. Having grown up in Angel Grove, where monsters attacked every other day, Trini was not easily scared by suicide bombers – or so she told anyone who asked.
She just couldn't reveal to the other students the secret that shaped her life: once, for one glorious year, Trini Kwan was a Power Ranger, one of the handful of heroes who protected Angel Grove and, indeed, the entire Earth.
Not glorious, she thought, laying her head against the window. Magnificent, yes, but there is no glory in fighting. There're pride, and honor, and great satisfaction, but there is no glory in killing.
Kill was the world. Eventhough she and her friends, the other Rangers, only used the milder term "destroy", in Trini's mind it was not so. She could not accept the monsters the Rangers foughtas inanimate, or even non-sentient beings. The monsters fought, spoke and had thoughts and feelings, vile as they certainly were. Looking back three years, Trini flinched at the thought of the life she had taken.
Killing the monsters wasn't the worst of it. Trini knew that it was a necessity. She had no doubts that human lives were dearer than the life of a monster. The "lives" of putties were out of question. If only it was enough!
The Power Rangers had fought and killed – nearly ending up killed themselves several times – but it was never enough. People were hurt. People died – no, they didn't merely "die": they were murdered, and the murderers only succeeded because Trini and the other Rangers weren't competent enough.
12:45
The bus was very crowded now. The people stood very close together. Trini gave up her seat a few stops ago, in favor of a small kid who looked fearfully at the much taller and bigger adults around her. The kid was now talking over her cell phone. The Foreign Students' program included intensive Hebrew course, and Trini could make up most of the conversation.
"Yeah, ma, I'm on the way to Dafna's now. No, I caught 25 - it's a whole lot quicker. Yes, I know, mom. I made sure to sit in the back. Sure. Love you. I'll call from Dafna's. Bye"
Trini wasn't sure what to make of the blunt lie. The kid wasn't sitting at the back of the bus – she only said that to calm her mother, having figured that the mother would never know.
If this girl lived in Angel Grove, thought Trini, she would have told her mother that she didn't go to the Park. Kids are kids everywhere: faced with death, they will deny its immediacy. I sure hope that the next generation of Israeli children won't need this ability. I can't stop the monsters, but maybe I can help stop this insanity.
Sometimes, Trini wanted to yell at people for not realizing the stupidity of it all. We're all human, can't you see? Rita and Zedd didn't care if we're Christian, Jewish or Muslim. We could all be Pagans, as far as they're concerned. The Machine Empire didn't give a damn about people's political stand, and Divatox couldn't care less about the color of our skin. We're all human for them – why can't we be just human for us, too?
Her years at the Peace Conference taught her that talking achieved nothing in its own right. Words couldn't change people's hearts in the things that mattered most. If she ever wanted to make a difference, she would have to act. That's why she came to Israel – here, the air was almost glowing with potential: potential to stop the blood cycle, potential to make it stop.
Trini jerked up from her thoughts, and quickly pressed the "stop" button. It was almost her stop.
13:00
There was no queue at the security checkpoint. The security guard checked Trini's bag quickly and efficiently, and let her in with a nod of his head.
The old Center was a maze of corridors, often described as a "rat maze". No matter how well you knew the Center, you still got lost. Trini liked that; it made the Center seem a lot bigger than it really was. If there's one thing wrong with Israel, Trini often though, is that it's too damn small.
She quickly made her way to the record shop at the lowest floor, next to the cinema. The CD she ordered had arrived almost a week ago, and Trini really wanted to pick it up already.
The guy at the cashier smiled widely when she entered the niche-like shop. "Hi, Trini!" he greeted her; "I was beginning to wonder if maybe you forgot all about Dear Glenn".
"Hi to you too, Ethan. How's it doing?" answered Trini. "Dear Glenn" was Ethan's nickname for all the records she ordered, as most of them were Glenn Gould's.
"Everything's fine", answered Ethan. "How're you?" He passed her the CD – he already knew that Trini took no bags – and she passed him her credit card.
"Everything's fine too", she answered.
"Skipping school today?" he asked jokingly.
"I want to call a friend on the morning of her birthday"
"Just be careful not to wake her up, I don't think she'd appreciate it"
"I'll make sure not to" she answered solemnly.
Ethan laughed, and returned her the plastic. "There, have a nice day!"
"You too!"
13:15
Trini browsed through the supermarket, stocking up her cart. It was funny, how much two girls could consume: she and Shelly had to go shopping twice a week.
It's funny that even after all those years, I'm still not used to normal metabolism, she thought, returning some chocolate wafers back to the shelf. Then again, she added wryly, I'm not even sure that my metabolism is normal.
The guys at the uni never noticed anything irregular, but Shelly who after all was Trini's roommate, complained several times that Trini ate more than she did, spent less time working out, and gained no weight at all. "You still look like a skinny 16-year-old" Shelly often complained, "That's damn mean"
Trini has never said that to her roommate, but the compliment-disguised-as-complaint stung, because Trini did look precisely as she did was she was 16: when she left Angel Grove, and the Rangering life.
I could always get a new haircut, she thought. Or stop wearing yellow. Why do I do this to myself? Why can't I let go?
She blinked quickly as memories surfaced.
"Don't do that to yourself, Trini", said Jason quietly. The goodbye party was over, and only he and Trini remained to mop up the mess.
"Do what?" she asked, though she knew what he was about to say. Or she thought she did.
"Punish yourself for leaving the team", Jason said. "Though you probably still think of it as "quitting" "
His words shook her to the core. "I'm not punishing myself, Jason. I'm doing something that I want to do"
"Excuse me, wrong phrasing. You're trying to make yourself pay for leaving the team. For not being there"
"I'm not, Jason"
"I know you are, Trini. I've been through this myself, remember? I came back to Angel Grove and risked my life – double time – with Trey's powers"
"But, Jason", she said, trying hard to swallow the lump that formed in her throat. "It's not leaving the team that I should pay for". She couldn't believe that she just told him something which she hardly admitted to herself. Than again… it was Jason. If she couldn't trust Jason, whom could she trust?
So she gave him the whole deal. She told him about the anguish and the feeling of failure that stained all her memories as a Ranger: she told him of the countless nights she remained awake; she even told him about her collection of newspaper clippings – the one that had the pictures and short bios of every person they failed to save; she showed him the notebook in which she chronicled each monster. Then there was nothing left to reveal.
"There's only one thing I don't understand", said Jason. He hasn't cried, hasn't shouted. He couldn't – or didn't – hide the shock in his eyes, but other than that he remained composed as ever. "Why didn't you ever say anything?"
"Because you didn't see things the way I did", Trini said simply.
Jason slammed his fist against the table, rattling the dishes. "I should have known. Even if you never said a word, I should have guessed", he said, his voice still calm.
Trini shook her head. "My values, my dilemmas" she said.
Jason shook his head. "Wrong", he said softly. "My teammate." Before she could retort, he had her wrapped up in a bear hug. "Don't say a word, sister. I'm just trying to remind you that you have my shoulder, and always will"
13:30
Right on schedule thought Trini, satisfied, as she left the mall, shopping bags cradled in her arms. I should be home by 14:00, and my call would reach Kimat 07:00 a.m. sharp.
It was a bright winter's day. The sun was high in the sky, its light reflected from the puddles: the city drainage system didn't seem capable of handling a week's worth of rain properly, and so the puddles were scattered all over the pavement and road. Up there in the middle of Tel Aviv it wasn't too bad – you just had to watch out for splashes from passing cars – but Trini knew that in the southern, poorer neighborhoods whole streets were completely flooded. The newspaper sported large headlines, but nobody really seemed to mind: after all, it happened every year.
The traffic light changed to green and, looking carefully left and right, Trini crossed the road. She was wise enough to wear waterproof shoes – after getting her socks soaked more than once – and so could walk freely, instead of watching out for the deeper puddles.
She thought of visiting the old books shop, but decided to go later: she had the whole day, and the grocery bags were getting heavy. She ignored the luring King George Street, and continued down Dizzengoff. This part of the street didn't have so many shops in it, and therefore was less crowded.
I really should spend some time outside today, she though. For all I know tomorrow itmight start raining again. It wasn't a plausible option, but she knew the thought would help her goad herself into action. Maybe I'll take a seaside stroll, if the windisn't too bad. I should do it in the noon, when it's still warm. It'll be freezing cold in the evening. Not that after three years in Europe, Israeli cold is likely to bother me!
She had reached the left turn to the street where she lived. Her house was the second from the corner. Her hand was on the doorknob.
That's when she heard it. For a few long seconds she stood frozen, and then she dropped her bags and ran back to the Center.
13:45
It happened on the zebra crossing. It must have been a car, for the damage seemed too great to have been done by the amount of explosives a man could carry on his body. And surely, in the middle of the road there was the burnt-out skeleton of a car. The other cars, which were near to it, were blackened too, and some of them were thrown sideways, or flipped upside down.
Looking at the cars kept her from looking at the people, but not for long. Some were screaming, howling with terror or pain. Others were too shocked or injured. Some, Trini noticed, were speaking on the cell phones.
"A car bombing, I'm telling you, right next to the Dizzengoff Center. Hurry up and send those ambulances. What entrance? I don't know what entrance! At the zebra crossing near the Center! Are you going to send those ambulances, or not?"
"Dana – oh, Dana, you're not going to believe me – you're not to believe what just happened - "
"Mom – I'm okay, I just wanted you to know…"
"Shirley, oh my god, Daniel, it's Shirley – she – we went to the mall – and, and…"
Trini kneeled next to the nearest body, but she could tell just by looking at it that there was nothing for her to do. She moved to the next one. She decisively averted her eyes from the more horrible remains – those that could no longer be recognized as people.
Even above the noise and the sights, it was the smell that nearly overwhelmed her. I don't remember it even smelling like this when I was a Ranger, she thought dazedly as she tore a sweatshirt lying by, turning it into a bandaging. Maybe the helmet filtered it out, or something. She tightened the impromptu bandage around the man's arm, got up, and continued to the next injured person.
"Miss?"
Trini turned her head as someone tapped her shoulder lightly. The glowing orange vest identified the person as a medic.
"Miss, it's okay now. We have the situation under control"
Looking around, Trini saw that the area was packed with ambulances and police cars.
"I didn't hear you get here", she said blankly.
"Are you alright, Miss? Are you injured?"
"No, I'm okay. I wasn't here when that car exploded – I heard the explosion and I came to help"
"Well, you helped a great deal. I've been watching you for several minutes now". The medic smiled kindly at her. "You sure you alright?"
"Yes, thanks"
"The police are sealing off the area now. If you're not injured, you may want to go home"
"I'd rather stay-"
"There's enough medical personal here now, it's okay"
"I want to help"
"You helped a great deal already. It's our turn now to do our job. You know what?" the medic scrambled in her pockets, and dragged out a piece of paper. "Write me your name and phone call, we may want to call you later"
"Call me?"
"Yeah, for an honorary certificate or something. The city does this kind of things"
Trini wrote down her name and cell number.
"Go home now", said the medic firmly, patting her shoulder again. "And make sure you've got some company, promise?"
Her shopping bags were still where she dropped them, at the building's door. She packaged them again, picked them up and walked upstairs.
When she got into the apartment, she put them on the tiny kitchen table. She walked over the living room, picked up the phone, and dialed.
"Morning" yawned a familiar voice.
Trini smiled genuinely. "Happy Birthday, sleeping beauty"
"Trini! Oh my god, it's you!" Kim snapped awake at once, judging by her voice.
"Of course it's me. Would I forget your birthday?" said Trini, walking over to her room and opening the closet.
"I just wasn't expecting you to call so early! Oh, this is so great!"
Trini put down the phone. She had changed into clean cloths while talking to Kim. The bloodstained ones were already immersed in soap solution in the sink. Trini turned to the kitchen, intent on unpacking the shopping, when the phone rang.
"Trini!" it was a near-hysteric Steff. "I just heard the news – there was an explosion right by your place – are you alright?"
"Of course I'm alright. I wasn't even there when it happened"
"Oh good, good. We were all so worried about you – hi, guys!" - Steff said to someone on her side – "She's okay!"
She switched her attention back to Trini. "Would you like me to drop by? I'll come right over - "
"Steff, I'm fine, I told you, I wasn't even there. Thanks a bunch for caring"
"You're welcome. Are you sure you're all right? You sound a little shaken"
"Naturally, I am, but I'm fine, really"
"I'll take your word for it" said Steffie, though she didn't sound totally convinced. "I'll call you again later, okay?"
"Okay, thanks"
"You're welcome. Anyhow, break's over, gotta go in now, bye!
Trini put down the phone, frowning. No sooner has she done that, than the thing rang again.
"Hello?" she answered shortly.
"Trini. What's up?"
"Tamara". Trini smiled despite herself. The sweet-tempered, slightly older Israeli, another past participant of the Peace Conference, never failed in finding just the right thing to do or say. "I'm alive and whole"
"What happened to "well"? " asked Tamara wryly.
"I take it you heard the news"
"Damn well I did. Here I was, hoping that we'll make it through the month without anybody blowing themselves up, and look what happened. You okay, though?"
"You asked me already"
"I wasn't referring to your physical well-being. And don't give me the I-grew-up-in-monster-city speech. I know Angel Grove is no safe haven, but this is different"
"I'm doing well – for now"
"You know my number, kid. Call if you want me to come over or anything"
"Tamara, you're in Be'er-Sheva"
"There's such a thing as a railway, you know", said Tamara jokingly. "Honestly though, I'm here for you even at 2 a.m. I'd tell you to call one of your friends for home – but, well, they'd probably just go hysteric on you"
"Thanks a bunch, Tamara"
"You're welcome. You know my number"
If anything, talking with Tamara had only made it harder on Trini. She could no longer ignore the pictures that kept running in front of her eyes: not just the scattered body parts from today's events, but also the memories of the countless battlefields she'd seen during her time as a Ranger.
Trini flopped down on the sofa, and pressed her palms to her eyes, hard.
The images weren't the worst of it. It was the questions that really caused her pain. How can a human being do that? She wanted to scream. How can a person be willing to kill innocent others? What could possibly twist someone into wanting to sacrifice themselves this way?
She knew no answers to those questions. It seemed that nobody knew the answers – if they even believed that there were any. Too many people, it seemed, were satisfied by shrugging off those questions, and attempting to solve the situation by adding more violence to it.
She didn't hear the door opens, or Shelly coming in, until the other girl patted her knee.
"Hi, Trini…"
Trini raised opened her eyes, alarmed.
"What are you doing here?" she asked automatically.
"Well, at least you had the common sense to change into clean cloths, put the dirty ones in laundry and not turn on the TV or the radio" said Shelly, ignoring her completely, "And that's more common sense than most. I was afraid I'd come in to find you following the live coverage"
"I never watch the live coverage"
Shelly wondered off into the kitchen, and Trini followed her. "What are you doing home, anyway?"
"Well I wasn't going to leave you home alone!" said Shelly indignantly, unpacking the groceries.
"Lord, I totally forgot about those", said Trini. "Let me help…"
"Oh, no you don't" said Shelly sternly, slapping away Trini's hand. "You grab yourself some chocolate, girl"
"I don't…" began Trini, but stopped. She was never much of a chocolate person. The only times she ever ate chocolate, in fact, were after battles.
Shelly took her silence for a positive answer, produced a chocolate tablet out of nowhere, and put it in Trini's hand.
"You think you should call your parents?" she asked, "To calm them down?"
Trini shook her head. "I don't think they're following the news so closely. Even if they do know that anything happened, they probably think that I'm safe in the campus. Jason will probably call later, though, and maybe some of the others". Trini winced. "Kim will go off with my head when she realizes that my happy-birthday call came after the attack"
"Yeah, well", said Shelly, "No point worrying about it now"
"Shelly?" asked Trini suddenly, surprised that she hasn't thought of it sooner. "Are you left-wing or right-wing?" The Israeli political terms did not refer to economics, but rather to one's stand on peace issues.
"Right-wing". She laughed at Trini's shocked expression. "Yes, I know. Us right-winged people have this horrible image of being illiterate, non-humanist, xenophobic, violent mob who only recite what we're told by out leaders". Shelly snorted. "Frankly, I think that there are more left-wing people who recite leaflets that right-winged"
"I'm left-wing", said Trini blankly.
"I've known that for ages. So? We're all human". She patted Trini's shoulder. "Have some more chocolate".