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 VELOCITY
COLORADO STORM HOCKEY SERIES
BOOK 2

ELLIE MALOUFF
Copyright © 2023 by Ellie Malouff
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or
used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the
publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Printed in the United States of America

First Printing, 2023
ISBN-13: 978-1-949269-12-3 (eBook)
ISBN-13: 978-1-949269-13-0 (Print)

Persephone Publishing LLC

P.O. Box 270684
Louisville, CO 80027
For my dad, Charles, the embodiment of unconditional love
 CONTENTS

Author’s Note

1. Alexandria
2. Hawk
3. Alexandria
4. Hawk
5. Alexandria
6. Hawk
7. Alexandria
8. Hawk
9. Alexandria
10. Hawk
11. Alexandria
12. Hawk
13. Alexandria
14. Hawk
15. Alexandria
16. Hawk
17. Alexandria
18. Hawk
19. Alexandria
20. Hawk
21. Alexandria
22. Hawk
23. Alexandria
24. Hawk
25. Alexandria
26. Hawk
27. Alexandria
28. Hawk
29. Alexandria
30. Hawk
31. Alexandria
32. Hawk
33. Alexandria
34. Hawk
35. Alexandria
36. Hawk
37. Alexandria
38. Hawk
39. Alexandria
Epilogue

Thank You For Reading

The Colorado Storm Hockey Series
Also by Ellie Malouff
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Tell Me What you Think
 AUTHOR’S NOTE

This book touches on some themes that may be sensitive to readers.

If any of these topics below have a negative impact on your mental
health, please consider setting the book aside.
Content warnings: on-page sexual activity, childhood cancer, loss
of limb, off-page parental death, off-page spousal death, grief, and
alcohol use.
 1

ALEXANDRIA

B omb cyclone .
That’s what they’ve been calling it on the news.
I was skeptical, thinking Coloradan meteorologists were
overhyping the winter storm. After all, they seem to revel in their
role as captivating storytellers when storms like this hit.
But I ignored all their warnings to stay home and out of the snow
when I realized Blue was out of cat food. A cat mom has to do what
a cat mom has to do.
And that’s how I ended up trapped in this Kit’s Superstore along
with some Kit’s staff and one other customer who was just as foolish
as I am. At least I had the sense to wear a coat. He’s only wearing
one of those man-tanks that’s just an excuse to show off his “guns”,
which from the looks of him is probably a word he’d totally say. Add
on the basketball shorts, sneakers without socks, and a backward
baseball cap atop some dirty blonde hair and we’ve got a Grade-A
Bro who has got to be freezing right now. He reminds me of
someone I can’t quite place, making me wonder if he’s the guy I see
on those local CrossFit gym advertisements.
And my family thinks I’m reckless?
A woman wearing a sharp blue collared shirt and holding a tablet
steps forward. “All right, gang. We’re stuck here until the storm
passes, so probably until the morning. The county’s emergency
management team has instructed us to shelter in place. Corporate
gave us the go-ahead to make ourselves comfortable by using the
products we need for an overnight stay and accounting for them. I’ll
do the inventorying. Unfortunately, our break room is being
renovated, so we’ll have to stay out here, but Kit’s has great
camping gear.”
She turns to us and asks, “What are your names?”
“Alex,” we both answer at the same time. Our gazes snap to one
another. He smiles at me like he’s never been in this situation before.
I grew up this way with plenty of other guys named Alex in my orbit.
I think it was always my dad’s wish to have a boy he could mold into
a star hockey player, but he got stuck with another daughter.
“Well, that will make it easy,” she says. “I’m Tonya, the manager
on duty. I’ll help you with whatever you need. Let’s head over to
camping and sporting goods.”
For the next thirty minutes, we build an indoor campsite with
tents, air beds, sleeping bags, and cushions. I’ve never been
camping before, so putting together a tent is totally new to me. I’m
sure I can work it out though considering I have some experience in
making my own frames for my paintings.
Alex finishes his first and it looks perfect. He must be some sort
of outdoorsman, which is a dime a dozen in Colorado. He goes on to
help others put theirs together, and I sneak glances his way time
and again to watch his biceps flex as he pulls the rods through the
fabric. I’m a human woman after all.
Unfortunately, my attempts to erect a tent seem to be going
nowhere. Somewhere along the line, I twisted it. As I attempt to
undo my progress in order to start over, everything falls apart.
Grumbling under my breath, I let out an irritated huff, which catches
the attention of my neighbor.
“Can I help?” Alex asks, stepping closer to me as I kneel back on
my heels.
“No,” I snap, wanting to prove I can do it myself, but looking at
the heap in front of me, I know it’s no use. “Okay, I give up. Yes,
please.”
His lips twitch upward, seizing the tent from my grasp. As my
face flushes with humiliation at my less-than-stellar tent-erecting
skills, I marvel at the ease with which he maneuvers the stubborn
fabric and poles. The physical effort sends a wave of warmth
through me and I start peeling off my winter layers — starting with
the woolen hat, followed by a multitude of scarves.
A brow arches over Alex’s amused eyes as he observes my mini
striptease. "Planning on giving me a show all night, Frostbite?" he
teases.
With a laugh, I counter, "Oh, I see. Hoping to borrow my layers
to stave off the cold?"
A ripple of muscle in his arm, a shake of his head, and he’s back
to the task at hand. “Nah, I'm built like a furnace.” He grins, his
attention fixed on threading the tent rod. “And besides, your clothes
look like they'd barely fit around my bicep, let alone the rest of me,
shortcake.”
I shoot him a faux-shocked look. “If you’re a human furnace, why
not forgo the sleeping bag? And how in the world will all of you fit in
it? You're practically a skyscraper.”
His lips pull into a roguish smirk, and he leans in, so close that
his whisper tickles my ear. “While I might be big, I do enjoy some
human comfort, I like soft things,” he teases, punctuating his
comment with a conspiratorial wink.
A rush of warmth blooms across my cheeks as his words sink in,
his flirtatious charm as potent as a weapon. Lord, this man could
teach a master class in flirtation.
I’m still warm, so I take off my coat, then the fleece liner, and
lastly the cable knit cardigan. All that’s left are my denim overalls
and a white t-shirt that has been stained by paint.
Alex eyes me from head to toe, most likely questioning all the
paint smears that cover my clothes or the bun that sits messily on
the back of my head. He quickly turns away and I see his Adam’s
apple bob in his thick neck as he swallows hard. “Come help me out,
Al,” he says, motioning with his head for me to come closer.
“Al?” I ask.
“What? You go by Lexi or Ali or some other girly thing?”
“Not into girly things, are we?”
 His gaze shifts up to meet mine and he says without hesitation,
“Oh, baby, I am definitely into all your girly things.”
My mouth hangs open and I’m rooted in place as I try to think of
a proper retort for something so audacious, and honestly quite out-
of-line, but all that comes out is, “Gross.”
He snickers. “Are you going to help or what, Al?” He’s still
crouching like he could spend all night in that position.
“Yeah, yeah,” I repeat and pick my chin up off the floor. I make
my way over and crouch down beside him.
“Hold this right here,” Alex says and hands a pole over, then pops
up to do something else tent-related that I don’t pay attention to
because I’m so focused on how he moves so effortlessly. When he
returns, he’s near enough for me to feel overwhelmed. My gaze
locks on his eyes, which are currently full of mischievousness. He
grins just a bit and slowly wraps one of my pink hair strands around
his index finger. “You’ve got orange paint in your very pink hair.”
I pull back a little, and when he lets it go, it forms a ringlet. “I
always have paint in my hair.”
“Are you an interior designer?” he takes the tent from me to
finish setting up.
“No, I’m an artist.” I rise to my feet, my hands stuffed into the
pockets of my overalls.
“So you’re Al the artist,” he says as he stands too.
“Alex,” I correct him. “Short for Alexandria.”
“Whatever you say, Al,” he says and zips up the flap.
“And what about you? Do you work at a CrossFit gym or
something?”
He laughs at that, but before he can answer, Tonya approaches
us.
“Okay, things are looking good,” Tonya says. “Please help yourself
to toiletries, snacks, comfy clothes, or anything else you might need.
I’ll ring it up at lane four.”
After Alex and I go on a little shopping spree together for necessities
like snacks, phone chargers, and even a deck of playing cards, we
settle into our respective spaces and get ready for the long night
ahead. I head off on my own to find a place to charge my phone,
and before I know it, Alex is following me to do the same. He sure
likes to stay close.
“I’ve got a bad feeling,” he says on the way back to our tents.
“Oh yeah?” I wonder.
“I think we’re going to lose power.”
“Yeah, but this is Kit’s. I’m sure they have power generator as a
backup for the groceries.”
“There probably wouldn’t be much more than emergency lights in
terms of illumination. It might get really cold.”
“Then don’t you want something more than what you’re
wearing?”
“Stop trying to clothe me, woman. Like I alluded to, the cold
doesn’t bother me.”
“You got ice in your veins or something?” I joke. It’s not original,
though. My dad always uses that phrase to describe the naturally
talented hockey players he coaches.
“I’ve been told that before,” he answers and then gently takes
hold of my arm and stops me off to the side of the campsite. “Do me
a favor and just stay close to me tonight.”
“What? Why?”
He leans closer so that our faces are only a few inches apart, and
just like that, my chest tightens up. “Must you question everything?”
he asks, his voice low and his tone actually serious for once.
“Yes. Always,” I answer.
“Fair enough. It’s one of the employees, the middle-aged guy
with the scar on his cheek. He’s giving off a bad vibe and he keeps
leering at you.”
“Leering?”
“Yes. Leering.”
“That’s a big word.”
“I’m not joking around, Al.”
“Call me Alex,” I tell him.
 “Don’t change the subject. I think when we get back, I’ll move
our tents closer together.”
“If anyone has been leering…”
“Al, I’ve never been anything but honest with you.”
“In the five minutes we’ve known each other?”
“Listen, I find you very pretty and I like looking at you a whole
bunch,” he says and pauses for a moment as he studies my face. My
breath betrays me and gets noticeably heavier. “But I’d never do
anything you didn’t want me to do. You got it? You see the
difference?”
The seriousness of what he’s saying sets in. I’ve been so caught
up in Alex and his whole schtick that I haven’t been paying much
attention to anyone else.
“Just don’t go off on your own, okay?” he requests.
“Okay, I won’t,” I promise him.
When we return, Alex goes about moving our tents—which were
about 10 yards apart—much, much closer, so that they’re now
touching. He also moves them back a bit further away from the rest
of the group. While all of this is happening, I keep sneaking glances
at the guy Alex warned me about. Sure enough, he’s looking right in
our direction. He is giving off an odd vibe, and I notice that the
other employees are keeping their distance from him too.
I feel so dumb for not noticing it before. Usually I’m more on my
game, but Alex has been far too distracting. Like the kind of
distracted I get when I paint. When I paint, my brain becomes
singularly focused, and it’s a sweet relief from all the noise that’s
usually clogging my head.
I could use some more of that kind of distraction, so I gather up
a little bit of courage. “Are you tired or do you wanna…” I start but
he doesn’t let me finish.
“Oh, baby, I like where this is going,” he says and takes hold of
my pinky finger with his own. It’s as startling as it is reassuring.
Clearly my confidence doesn’t need to waver when it comes to this
guy.
“I just meant do you want to play cards or something?” I ask and
slip out of his grasp.
 “I thought you’d never ask,” he says and unrolls his sleeping bag
outside his tent. “I haven’t been camping in years. This is going to
be fun.”
“I haven’t been camping ever,” I tell him while I unroll mine.
“What’s up with that, Al?” he asks as he takes a seat and grabs
for a bag of beef jerky he picked up.
“It just didn’t happen,” I say without going too deeply into how
my dad was stuck with raising two girls and coaching a professional
hockey team. Camping wasn’t at the top of our list. “After my mom
died when I was ten, I had trouble sleeping in the dark, so my dad
put a bunch of those glow-in-the-dark stars all over my ceiling. I
used to pretend I was sleeping beneath the stars, but that’s as close
as I’ve come to sleeping outside,” I tell him and wave my hand
above my head as if I’m back there now in my childhood room,
illuminated by their soft green glow.
“That’s really sweet of him. I’m sorry about your mom. Was she
sick?” he asks.
“No, she was in an accident.” I don’t want to elaborate on it at
the moment, especially not with a stranger, so I’m content to let him
assume it was a car accident.
“I’m sorry to hear that. The stars are nice though. My sisters had
those too,” he says with a smile.
“What girl didn’t? Even my sister got some because she was
jealous of mine,” I reply and foolishly carry on. “Anyway, it was
awesome for the month they were up.”
He stops mid-bite and looks at me. He finishes chewing and
swallowing before I can think of something else to say. “Why only a
month?” he asks.
“We moved to a different city for my dad’s job,” I explain, still
preferring to keep it on the vaguer side of things. If I explain that
my dad is the head coach of the Colorado Storm, he’ll become the
entire focus of the night. So I shrug it off and go for a subject
change will prevent him from asking more about it. “You’ve got
sisters?”
“Five of them,” he answers nonchalantly while I nearly choke on
my water.
 “Five sisters?”
“Uh-huh,” he says and keeps munching away.
“Any brothers?”
“Nope, just me.”
“Wow. What’s your birth order?”
“Guess,” he teases.
“You’re most definitely the baby,” I answer, and he winks. Of
course he is. He’s just the kind of guy that exudes that spoiled, gets-
whatever-he-wants kind of attitude. And his ego? My god.
“They doted on you, didn’t they?”
“What can I say? I’m totally lovable.”
“Bet you got away with just about everything,” I tease.
“Not quite everything,” he says and blinks a few times. I think
he’s lying, but I don’t judge him too harshly. “So, if you’ve never
been camping, it’s no wonder you struggled so much with the tent.”
“Yeah, but I think I’ve got it now,” I tell him as I shuffle the
cards. “Crazy Eights or War?”
He laughs. “War? I haven’t played that since I was like four.”
“If you’re not nicer, you’ll be playing 52 Card Pick Up.”
He slowly nods in appreciation and smiles ever so slightly. “I like
you, Al.”
“What isn’t to like?” I joke to hide how much he’s actually rattled
me with that statement. I’m tempted to follow up with all the
reasons he shouldn’t like me—Lord knows I’ve perfected that list
over the years—I’m impulsive, and disorganized, and reckless—but I
resist the urge.
He motions to me and gets a little too loud. “That’s what I’m
talking about, baby. I like that kind of confidence.”
I shake my head. “Crazy Eights it is.”
As I deal the cards between us, the lights suddenly go out and
the hum of the fluorescent lights quiets. Someone screams, and my
heart jumps into my throat. “Alex!” I call out.
He pulls me close to him and we end up wrapping our arms
around one another. “I’ve got you,” he assures me.
“Everyone please stay calm,” Tonya shouts. “The generator
should turn on soon.”
 And sure enough, some emergency lights come to life overhead.
They don’t provide much, but at least we’re not in the pitch black.
Alex and I remain clutched in a hold, our breath in rhythm as we
both return to a state of calm. The reality of his physical presence
begins to seep into my awareness. He’s undeniably muscular, his
body a solid fortress around me. “Are you okay?” he whispers into
my ear.
“Yes,” I answer and loosen my grip on him.
He clears his throat, stands up, and brings me to my feet. “Stay
close to me,” he says again.
“I will.”
He holds his hand out in front of me and I take it, because if I’m
being perfectly honest, I’m still pretty freaked out and my gut tells
me that I can trust him. I am a little surprised when he weaves our
fingers together right away. His hands are massive, something I
didn’t notice until now. I never considered myself to have small
hands, but they certainly feel that way within his grasp.
“Tonya, can we get some lanterns?” a staff member asks.
“Yes, that’s a good idea. Let’s go get them,” she says, and the
two take off to retrieve them from the same area we got our tents
from.
“Let’s go get our phones,” Alex says to me and leads us away
from our campsite. “I told you we’d lose power.”
“I wonder if my townhouse lost power. I hope Blue doesn’t get
cold.”
“Blue?” he asks.
“My cat.”
“Right, the cat food,” he says, putting it all together. “Bet you
regret coming out to get that right about now.”
I’m about to answer in the affirmative, but I might be lying if I
do. Objectively, this situation sucks. I’m going to attempt to sleep on
the floor of a Kit’s, away from Blue and all the comforts and security
of home… But the truth is, I’m smack dab in the middle of an
experience that I’ll always be able to carry with me. One that’s
turning out to be exciting and most definitely unexpected because of
Alex, the stranger who, within the course of two hours of knowing
each other, is currently holding my hand.
I stop and he instantly does the same as if he can defy first law
of motion. “What?” he asks.
“What if I answered no, I don’t regret it?”
To my surprise, he doesn’t answer right away with some kind of
joke or innuendo. Instead, he lets go of my hand, takes a step closer
to me, and reaches out for the shelf full of stationery products
behind me so that he’s practically embracing me. There are no more
than two inches between our bodies when he slowly brings a hand
to the side of my face and tilts my head back so our eyes can
connect.
“Then I would tell you that I don’t regret it either,” he replies, his
voice as husky as his gaze is serious.
There’s a pronounced thumping in my chest that accompanies an
unmistakable feeling of yearning, but for what, I’m not totally clear.
Maybe it’s a yearning for a past I’ll only be able to remember in the
future, as if this moment with Alex is already forming into a
cherished memory. It’s so confusing. My head and my heart are in
deep, deep trouble.
Before I can get even more meta, Tonya calls out for him or for
me or for both of us, it’s hard to tell.
“We better grab our phones and get back,” Alex says and lets me
go. I already miss being close to him. He takes hold of my hand
again and we hurry to get our phones.
 2

HAWK

W hen I popped into K it ' s to snag the video game I' d promised B rendan
at Colorado Children's Hospital, I hadn't foreseen the curveball this
storm would throw. Least of all did I imagine that I'd be weathering
it with a woman who, despite being wrapped up to rival Randy from
A Christmas Story, managed to pique my interest from the get-go.
It's surprising how quickly I've found myself captivated by her. We’ve
got a good rapport, and it doesn’t hurt that she’s cute as hell with
that pink hair and those overalls.
I take hold of her hand again, weaving my fingers through hers,
and together we go fetch our phones.
My history with women has usually followed a whirlwind pattern.
A brief exchange, barely more than a few sentences, and we're
tangled up before the ice in our drinks has even melted. Those
encounters, however, were more about immediate gratification—low
on words, high on action. In other, more serious interactions with
women, the flirting always came naturally. One may say I’ve got the
gift.
In the grand arena of my life, women often play the role of fans
in the stands rather than key players on the ice. My strategy with
women mirrors my stance on hockey: agile maneuvers, effortless
saves, always steering clear of penalty shots. And let me tell you my
secret: having talent is a whole lot easier than hard work.
 But this? This isn’t like any of those experiences, and I can only
assume it’s got to be this bizarre circumstance of being trapped
together. I didn’t know this woman three hours ago, but I’m holding
her hand, unwilling to let it go until I’m confident she’s no longer
scared. Protectiveness isn’t in my nature, but that’s how I’d describe
this tightness that I’m feeling in my chest. Is this how my teammate
Christopher feels around Summer? No wonder he went so bananas.
I could see how this feeling would drive someone to do something
stupid.
Alex’s words are still ringing in my head… What if I answered no,
I don’t regret it? She’s either got a bold streak for defying such a
storm, or maybe I’ve really made it worth it. She’s made this ill-
timed trip to Kit’s worth it for me, but then again, I’ve never been
one to turn down an adventure like this with a pretty girl.
When we get to our tents, I take a look at my phone. It’s filled
with notifications that came in while it was charging, including one
text in particular that catches my eye.
Brandi: Hope you’re staying warm, Hawk.
It’s a reminder of a stupid mistake I made a year ago that I’m
not sure I’ll ever forgive myself for. As always, I erase it and consider
blocking her number, but every time I have that little debate in my
head, I realize it could cause more harm than good. The best thing
that could happen would be if she just forgot about me, and maybe
then I could forget about how I crossed an unthinkable line because
I didn’t have any respect for relationships back then. I toss the
phone aside and re-center myself to the present.
Alex takes a seat cross-legged on her sleeping bag and shuffles
the deck of cards. “Okay, where were we? Crazy eights? Speed?”
“Anything you want, Al,” I tell her. “I’m easy.”
We proceed to play Speed and I end up winning every time,
much to her annoyance. I’m not trying to win, not even a little bit,
but I can’t bring myself to let her win either. It’s just not in my
nature. But I do know how to be a good sport, so every time I win, I
pay her a compliment.
“Good game, gorgeous.”
She shakes her head and tries to hide her smile.
 “You almost had that one, pretty eyes.”
She rolls those beautifully deep blue, nearly violet eyes.
“Almost, cutie.”
She twists some loose strands of pink hair back behind her ear.
“Nice try, sweet cheeks.”
She tilts her heart-shaped face up toward the ceiling and blows
out a big breath. “Oh my god, seriously? Stop patronizing me!”
“Oh, feisty, I like it.”
“How did you get such crazy fast reflexes? It’s honestly freakish.”
She grabs my hands and turns them over as if she’s looking for
some hidden trick up my non-existent sleeves.
I take hold of her hands in return and give her a gentle squeeze.
“Had enough yet?”
She considers it for a few seconds and bunches her lips before
twisting them over to the side. “Yeah, I guess I have.”
“Don’t be a sore loser,” I say, my accent most likely revealing my
Canadian upbringing.
She rolls her eyes playfully and then falls back onto her sleeping
bag. She squints at the ceiling, and on instinct I look up to see what
she’s staring at. There’s nothing up there but a few twinkling
emergency lights.
Alex sighs. “I miss my stars.”
“The glow-in-the-dark ones you had?”
“Yes,” she answers.
I find myself smiling as a warm sensation eases through my
chest. She’s so damn cute. I toss off my hat and lie back on my own
sleeping bag to stare at the Kit’s ceiling right alongside her. “We can
pretend they’re real stars.”
She makes a sweet sound, a cross between a sigh and a laugh.
Like if a smile had a sound. “They’re pretty, aren’t they?”
“They sure are,” I reply, and if I squint just right, the emergency
lights could pass for satellites at the very least.
“I think I see Perseus,” she says and points up to trace its
imaginary shape.
I’m impressed by her knowledge of constellations. I wonder if
she knows Greek Mythology as well. Taking a chance, I reply, “And
look, there’s Andromeda. See.” I outline the shape I recall.
She rolls over on her side and props herself up on her elbow so
she can look at my face. Her smile tells me she knows Greek
mythology as well as I do and that she’s well aware that we picked
lovers for our fake constellations.
From this position, loose strands of her pink hair fall around her
face. She has soft, round eyes framed with thick lashes, and an
array of freckles across her nose that have the fake stars overhead
beat. Something I hadn’t noticed before is the dimple near her chin
that is downright kissable. This girl has a set of lips that I’d love to
get the chance to nibble on. It turns out that Alexandria is gorgeous.
Absolutely gorgeous, actually. And I’m the lucky asshole that gets to
be stuck with her in a Kit’s Superstore.
 3

ALEXANDRIA

W ithout his hat on , I get to see some beautiful natural blonde

streaks in Alex’s hair. From this vantage point, I also get to admire
his stupidly handsome face. He’s got it all, from deep-cut dimples in
his cheeks that could bring anyone with a pulse to their knees to a
structured jaw that makes all the primal bits of me perk up. And
that’s when I notice the scar on the left side of his jaw. His stubble
doesn’t quite cover it.
“How did that happen?” I ask and trace it with the tip of my
thumb. I’m not sure who I’ve become in the past hour, but
something about this situation—or maybe this man—is triggering my
impulsivity.
Alex smiles and looks away for a moment before meeting my
eyes again. “It’s not that interesting of a story, but I’ll tell you if you
want to know.”
“Why else would I ask?”
“Okay, Al,” he says, but hesitates just long enough for us to be
interrupted by my phone.
I pull it out of my pocket and see that it’s my dad. “I should take
this,” I tell Alex and he nods.
“Hey, Dad. What’s up?”
“Hey, just checking on you during this crazy storm since we lost
power,” he says. “You doing okay?”
 Alex watches me closely as I answer. “Yeah, funny story. I’m
trapped inside a Kit’s Superstore.”
“What? Seriously, Alex? Why the hell did you go to Kit’s in this
storm?”
“Blue needed cat food. You know how needy she can be,” I tell
my dad, and that makes my camping partner laugh quietly.
“You and that needy cat. Are you okay? Are you alone there?” my
dad asks.
“I’m not alone. There is some staff here and another customer
that got stuck with me.”
My dad hesitates for a moment and I can tell he’s worried. “Okay,
keep me updated. I’ll come get you if you want me to.”
“No,” I reply quickly. Probably too quickly. “Don’t even think
about it. This storm is terrible.”
“Yeah, no kidding, you shouldn’t have gone out in it,” he
grumbles, and I roll my eyes. My father’s over-the-top protectiveness
since my brush with the law last year sure is a reminder of my
childhood. And then he drops an expression I’ve heard more times
than I can count… “You’re just like your mother. So reckless.”
“I know. I know, Dad.” I’ve learned it’s just easier to accept that
comparison than to fight it at this point.
Alex picks up his own phone. When the screen illuminates, it’s
filled with notifications. Mostly text messages. Jesus. CrossFit Alex
must be quite popular amongst the housewives that probably hit up
his gym just to watch him work out. Honestly, I’ve already
considered getting a membership because I’m sure that’s a sight to
behold.
“I should go. I need to save my phone battery.” I watch Alex read
through his text messages, not responding to any of them.
My dad huffs. “Okay, me too. Keep me updated.”
“Will do, talk to you later.”
“Yeah, okay, bye.”
“Bye.” His phone clicks off before he hears me. Whatever. He’ll
get over any annoyance he’s feeling over me being stuck here.
I slip my phone back into my overalls as Alex’s eyes rise to meet
mine. “That your dad?”
 “Yep.”
“A bit over-protective?” He looks back down at his phone as three
new notifications pop onto his screen.
“Just like he used to be.”
The vagueness of my statement must get his attention as his
head snaps up, and I pinch the inside of my arm for being so dumb.
“How so?”
I attempt to shut it down quickly. I don’t need to be telling new
handsome friends about how my dad started treating me like I was
ten years old again after I got arrested last year. “It’s a long story
that I’d rather not get into. I bet you’re used to your fair share of
over-protective dads, though.”
He laughs at that, deep from the gut. “Yeah, I’ve run into a few
from time to time. One girl’s dad actually pulled the proverbial
shotgun on me. Told me to get off his property or he’d take my head
off. I’ve never run faster.”
“And what exactly were you doing that warranted that kind of
reaction?”
“I believe in that instance, he caught me in the kitchen getting a
glass of water, totally naked.”
“Yep, totally warranted. Do you really hate clothes that much?”
He shrugs and laughs a little. “You’re funny, Al.”
“I’m the funny one? Whatever, dude.”
He pulls his lips into his mouth and tosses his phone to the
bottom of his sleeping bag.
“So, he was just checking up on you?”
“Yep. You seem to have a few people checking up on you too.” I
point over to his phone that lights up again with a new message.
“We’re fine, right? It’s not like we were on a hike or something.
We’ve got shelter, food, warmth. The full meal deal.”
“Are you irritated that people are reaching out to you?”
“It’s just a bit much for the level of storm. I mean, I’ve seen
storms three times worse than this.”
My gaze narrows on him. “Really? Where are you from?”
“Up north,” he answers but doesn’t elaborate. “So, what do you
want to do now?”
 Happy for the subject change, I consider our options. Before I
can respond, Alex looks over at the creepy guy. My eyes follow and I
make a brief amount of eye contact with the dude before he turns
away. It looks like he was holding his cell phone up, perhaps filming
us or taking pictures of me. I don’t know, but a chill runs through
my body.
Alex continues to stare him down, but the guy won’t look back
up. Alex crosses one arm over the other as if to stretch, but really I
think he’s putting on a demonstration for him. His biceps are just
unreal, and if I were some wimpy guy like him, I wouldn’t want to
be on Alex’s shit list, that’s for sure.
“Maybe we should get some rest,” I suggest.
“I’m not that tired.” There’s an edge to his demeanor.
“I think I’ll go in the tent,” I tell him, and he nods solemnly. “Will
you be out here?” I ask, suddenly worried that he’ll go sleep in his
own tent. The idea is unsettling, mostly because of the guy that’s
been creepin’ on me, but also for reasons I’m not ready to admit.
Alex sits up. “Do you want me to stay out here?”
“If you don’t mind, or if you want… you could sleep in my tent
with me.” God, that sounds forward, but it’s necessary from my
perspective. It’s the only way I’ll get some rest. A smile spreads
across his face and I roll my eyes. “You know why.” I flick my head
over to the creepy guy.
“Oh, I know why, baby.” Flirtatious Alex has made a comeback.
“But let’s go in my tent. Much like everything else about me, it’s
bigger.”
Despite Alex’s lame innuendo, it makes me laugh. “My dad was
right. Maybe I don’t think through my decisions well enough.”
And with that, I drag my sleeping bag into Alex’s tent.

Now that we’re both in the tent, it feels a lot more like actual
camping. It’s also a little warmer, which I suspect has to do with
Alex’s body heat. The guy just doesn’t seem to get cold, which must
be why he’s just laying on top of his sleeping bag.
“Want me to shut off the lantern?” he asks.
“Just turn it down. I’m not sure I’m ready for it to be completely
dark,” I admit.
“I hope you know by now that I won’t let anything happen to
you, Alex.” It’s the first time he’s said my name like that.
I smile and shake my head in disbelief because I know he’s
telling the truth. I feel the way he cares.
We lie in silence for a little while as I try to quiet my mind, but
it’s nearly impossible to succumb to sleep while sharing a tent with a
guy like this. What if I snore? Or worse yet… what if I fart in my
sleep? I would be so mortified.
Beyond analyzing all the potential ways my body could betray
me, I’m also shaking with excitement. All my senses are heightened
like I’ve suddenly turned into one of the vampires in the paranormal
romance books my sister left behind when she went to college.
“Whatcha thinking about?” he asks. I notice a faint accent on
that last word. Maybe he’s Canadian? That would explain the “up
north” comment.
“Not much.”
“Come on, baby, I know that’s not true. Your thoughts are so
loud over there, they’re keeping me up.”
“If they’re so loud, then you tell me. What am I thinking about?”
He laughs at that and puts his hands beneath his head as he
stares up at the top of the tent. “I’m not sure you’re ready to hear
it.”
“That just means you don’t actually have a clue.”
He turns over to face and me, and this time he’s the one to prop
up on an elbow. It’s a very good look on him and I think he knows
it. “Maybe your mind hasn’t caught up with your body.”
I’m not sure I’ve ever met anyone who is as self-assured as this
guy. Now I really want to know what he thinks. I turn onto my side
and mimic his elbow prop. “Do tell, Alex.”
“Baby, your body is”—he runs a hand over my hip—“begging me
to unzip this sleeping bag and take off your pajamas piece by piece,
just after I strip out of my clothes.”
“Wow.” I’m genuinely shocked at his boldness. “You sure are
cocky.”
“Now you’re using the right kind of vocabulary.”
I should be offended. Hell, I should smack him, right?
But the way he said it in that playfully husky voice of his, along
with that naughty way he’s biting on the corner of his lip, is clogging
all of my judgment. My eyes meet his, and they tell me all I really
need to know: he’s hopeful.
If he wants to play, I’ll play. “Well, I’ve heard that bodies don’t
lie.”
He brushes some hair back from my face and places it behind my
ear. “No, they most certainly do not.”
“So maybe you should start by slipping out of that shirt, if you
can call it that,” I suggest.
Alex’s mouth drops open a little bit and he smiles. “Is this like a
dare?”
“You can call it that if you want.”
“Mmm,” he hums and sits up in the tent. I do the same. He
reaches behind his head and pulls the flimsy bit of material over his
head, giving me a view of every muscle from his shoulders to his
lower abdomen. The man is cut, a trace amount of fair-colored chest
hair and an eight-pack of abs on full display.
I involuntarily blink a few times. Crap. I do my best to regain my
composure, trying to keep this going. “Go on,” I challenge him.
“It’s your turn now,” he challenges right back.
“That’s not what my body was saying, remember? You said that
you’d first strip out of your clothes. Go on, prove how right you are.”
I hold back the laugh I desperately want to let spill. This might be
wrong, but I don’t care. I’m trapped in a fucking Kit’s, sleeping in a
tent with someone who walks around like he’s Zeus.
He shakes his head with a little laugh. “Okay, I see your game
now, Al. You really don’t know what you’re doing.”
“I know exactly what I’m doing.” It’s a complete farce. I am
absolutely making this up as I go along. “Do it.”
Alex shrugs. “Okay then. Let’s play this game.”
 He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his basketball shorts.
As they start to come off, everything slows way, way down as if I’m
watching the playback of a slow-motion video. I feel outside my
body, watching myself react to what I’m seeing: Alex in his full glory.
The underwear I expected to see, missing. Instead, I see all of it.
All. Of. It.
Dear Higher Power—or at least the manager of Kit’s—forgive me
for what I’ve done.
He flicks off the shorts, and we’re back in real time as he leans
across the tent, lifting my chin with two fingers to close my mouth,
which must have been hanging open.
Play it cool, Al.
Damn, now I’m calling myself that.
What’s worse than being in a situation where I’ve just ordered
this incredibly hot guy to strip off all his clothes is what will come
next. Two words that will be my downfall. I will lose this game.
“Your turn,” he says, assuring my destruction.
“Funny thing,” I blurt out and pull my sleeping bag up over my
shoulders.
“Nuh-uh. It’s your turn.”
“See, here’s the thing. You, um, look like that, and well, I eat
powdered sugar donuts for breakfast and Lucky Charms for lunch
most days.”
He growls. “Good.” Then he leans forward in a way that makes
me question if I’m even flexible at all. I should ask him for a
recommendation of where he does yoga, because wow.
He fiddles with the zipper of my sleeping bag like he’s going to
pull it straight down and then ravish me to pieces. But I’ve noticed
that with Alex, there’s an undercurrent of playfulness that assures
me I’m the one actually in control. I think back to his words about
not doing anything me to me that I wouldn’t want him to do. Boy did
he have me pegged.
His eyes are on mine, posing his question for him. Will I let him
do this? Will I give him permission?
I take a huge breath and attempt to tap into the critical thinking
part of my brain, but I am, of course, unsuccessful. Instead, I’m
stuck in the very basic lizard part of my brain. Sex! Sex! Sex! flashes
through that lobe like there’s nothing else that matters now that I’m
safe and warm and full.
“I think you’re right…Bodies don’t lie,” I tease. “Show me what
you had in mind.” And that gives him all the permission he needs to
do his whole unzip-the-tent-then-strip-my-pajamas move.
He takes my cue and opens the sleeping bag hastily, which isn’t
how I pictured it going down. I thought he’d do it all seductive and
slow, but his urgency actually delights me more.
Out of instinct, I rise up to my knees and he follows. We move
closer to one another as he gently grasps the bottom hem of my
pajama top. He stares down at it for a beat or two before he
leisurely slides his gaze up my body until it reaches my eyes. I nod
ever so slightly and raise my arms above my head, pressing my
palms to the top of the tent.
He moves in even closer so that his very naked body is nearly
touching mine. I’m trembling, flat-out trembling. His warm breath
caresses my neck as he raises my top up, up, up. Unlike him, I’ve
got undergarments beneath my clothes, so he’s currently being
treated to my purple lace bralette.
Alex tosses my top aside and leans back on his heels. He makes
a funny sound that’s a cross between a whistle and an exaggerated
exhale, while I do my very best not to look where the tip of him is
now bouncing off his solid abdomen. The moment doesn’t last long
before his fingers are back on my body, edging around the bralette.
He hesitates long enough for me to know that he’s checking in to
make sure it’s okay. I lift my arms for him again, silently giving him
the go-ahead, and he goes to work removing the thin piece of fabric
and throwing it in a pile with my top. He leans back again and takes
in the sight of me. Then he places his hands on my shoulders. I’m
not the only one that’s trembling anymore.
“Your nipples are pierced.” It’s a breathless statement, not a
question.
“I got them on a dare one night back in art school.”
He gulps and then leans in toward my ear. “I really want to kiss
you right now.”
 “Kiss me,” I whisper in return.
The color of his eyes is impossible to tell in this light, but they
speak volumes about his desire for me. It’s so fucking hot. Our
noses lightly rub against each other as his lips linger a hair’s breadth
from mine.
All my inhibitions fall away as my desire for Alex builds toward a
tipping point. I want him to kiss me. I need him to kiss me. I’m
eager to experience how this admittedly reckless choice to go out in
a storm will play out in my favor.
“Alex,” he murmurs against my lips.
“Yes, Alex?” I reply, amazed I have the breath to form complete
words.
“I’m going to kiss you now.”
Before he can make the move, I press my lips to his. He
momentarily freezes in place, but before I can panic that I’ve gotten
this all horribly wrong, his lips melt into mine. When my hands make
their way into the gentle curls at the back of his head, he pulls me
tightly against his hard body. The upper hand I had with kissing him
first collapses like a tent in a bomb cyclone.
His teeth graze against my bottom lip and a spike of pleasure
courses through me. I’m dizzy from the dopamine and lost to the
sensation of his mouth on mine in a series of kisses that are soft but
somehow urgent at the same time. He’s a pro. A real pro at this.
That shakes me back to the present. Who is this guy? I kiss him
one more time because I can’t resist, and then I pull back. Stopping
is almost painful, but it must be done. My curiosity must be satisfied
too.
“I don’t even know your last name,” I point out.
“Hawkins,” he says and leans in to restart. I put my fingers on his
lips and his eyes get bigger.
“Alex Hawkins. Why does that sound familiar?” I ask while trying
to dig out of this lust blizzard to access my memory.
He shrugs his shoulders and moves around to my neck where he
does something with his tongue that absolutely melts my core. My
body goes weak in his arms as his onslaught of kisses, licks, and
nips continue along my shoulder, up my neck, and land on my ear.
Needless to say, my memory is too far out of reach.
“What’s your astrological sign?” I ask, somehow breaking through
my haze to get more information.
“I don’t know.”
“When’s your birthday?”
“June 5th,” he whispers into my ear before pulling my earlobe
into his mouth. My eyelids slowly fall until they’re almost closed. I
pull him closer, unable to resist my desire to have every inch of his
skin touching mine. June 5th. A Gemini.
Fuck. A Gemini.
It all adds up. He’s playful and sexual and one of the biggest flirts
I’ve ever met. It also means that despite our unusual setting,
hooking up with a girl he only met a few hours ago might be his
typical Tuesday night.
I need to slow this down. And as much as I hate to say it, he’s
going to have to put his pants back on.
I’m no prude, but this Scorpio is not going to feel like she’s been
played by some ridiculously hot Gemini.
So I need to slow it down fast, because his mouth is moving its
way down to my chest, heading right for my favorite erogenous
zones. Once he kisses me there, I’ll be done for. Absolutely done for.
I will mount this beast of a man right here in this tent and ride out
the storm.
“Alex,” I start.
“Yes, baby?” he murmurs against my skin.
I cup his head with my hands and bring him back up to my
mouth because I need one more knee-buckling kiss before I force us
to cool this down.
Our mouths open on contact, our tongues colliding hard and fast.
It’s a total escalation that I should have predicted. Untangling from
this kiss is going to be nearly impossible, I simply don’t have the
willpower, and the state of my panties proves it.
Screw it. Maybe hot sex with a stranger is just the kind of self-
care I’ve been desperately needing—even if he is a Gemini.
 Right when I’m ready to give in to this once-in-a-lifetime
situation, he slows our frantic kissing and leans back on his heels
effortlessly.
“You’re beautiful, Al. Just completely gorgeous.” His sudden
appraisal of my body makes me shy and I make moves to cover
myself. He moves to the right and grabs my bra and my pajama top.
“Here you go.”
“Are we just… stopping?” I ask, taking my clothes from him. Still
reeling from our make-out session, I fumble to put my top on,
forgoing the bra all together.
He places a hand on my cheek as if to soothe me, even though
I’m not sure I need soothing. Does he think I feel rejected? I most
certainly do not. At least, I don’t think I do.
Wait, is he actually rejecting me? What the hell?
“I had to stop before we got too crazy, and well, I’m not
prepared.”
Condoms, he’s talking about condoms.
“Oh.” I nod, and then I cover for myself and lie my ass off. “I
mean, it’s not like we were going to actually have sex. We’re in a
Kit’s, and there are strangers out there listening to probably
everything we do. Not to mention, we’re just…”
“Just what, Al?” His smile is mischievous as all hell.
“Strangers, right?”
“Strangers… right.” He drags out that last word and punctuates it
with an amused grunt, then he places a firm kiss on my lips. “You’ve
got perfect lips, stranger.”
I don’t really know how to reply. It’s hard to process anything
while he’s putting his shorts back on. I’m simultaneously relieved
and frustrated at the sight. And then a thought rolls through my
head… We’re, at most, 50 yards from boxes and boxes of condoms.
Which tells me that Alex must have held back for some other reason.
I’m not sure what my face looks like right now as I consider all of
this, but when he looks back over at me, his gaze turns soft.
“Tired?” he asks.
“Yeah, I guess I am.” And sexually frustrated, but I don’t mention
that part. A shiver rolls up my back as all the warmth from before
dissipates. It’s so cold, even in the tent. I get back into my sleeping
bag and try to curl into my own body to stay warm. If I don’t warm
up soon, I’m going to have to put on all my winter gear again.
“Cold?”
He’s so damn observant. It’s like he sees everything.
“I’ll be okay.” My stubborn side is waking up to the situation.
Alex lies beside me and opens his arms for me. “Come on. I’ll
keep you warm.”
It’s tempting to hold back from him, the way he did from me, but
I’m too cold and I really miss his warmth. “Okay.”
He smiles ever so slightly and gently pulls me against his body so
that my head is resting on the soft part under his shoulder, above his
heart.
Questions start popping into my head at a crazy rate. First and
foremost, who the hell is this guy? But the way he strokes my hair in
a slow rhythm soothes me, and the warmth that radiates from his
body to mine makes all those questions fade away. I’m lulled into a
peaceful sleep for the whole night, until I’m awoken in a total fright
by the sound of a stranger’s voice giving stern instructions outside
our tent.
“What the?” I mumble as I come to and assess where the hell I
am.
Tent.
Alex.
Kit’s.
Bomb cyclone.
Alex is still sleeping beside me, totally out. I take a few seconds
—okay, maybe a full twenty or so—to admire his bare chest. He’s got
a tattoo of a hawk on the side of his torso that I didn’t notice last
night. Hawk for Hawkins, I guess.
Alex Hawkins. It still rings a bell. For some reason, it makes me
think of my dad, but I have no idea why.
I nudge Alex by pressing my fingertip against one of his biceps.
How does it bulge even in his sleep? Something else is bulging in his
shorts, but I make myself ignore that situation. His bicep feels as
good as I imagined it would. I keep tapping it as I try to coax him
awake. “Yo, dude. It’s time to wake up. Tonya needs us to do stuff.”
He rolls over onto his stomach and buries his face into his
sleeping bag. His back is just as nice as his front if I’m being honest.
The muscle definition is enough to make me want to sneak a photo
of him sleeping, but then I remember that’s totally violating his
privacy and is probably something that creeper across the way
would probably do to me if given the opportunity.
“Alex, we gotta go. We can go home now.”
Without opening his eyes, he reaches his arm out and pulls me
down to him, turning over onto his back to hug me as if we’re a
couple that’s sleeping in on a Sunday morning.
Girl, don’t get ahead of yourself.
There’s a light kiss on my neck, then my cheek, then my lips, a
butt graze, then a gentle butt squeeze. It feels incredible, but this is
the wrong time and place. “Come on. We gotta go.”
I wiggle out of his arms and grab my stuff to hightail it to the
bathroom so I can get dressed. When I return, he’s “dressed” and
ready, even donning his Colorado Storm hat—still backward, by the
way. The tents have been disassembled and all our stuff is in paper
bags. I triple check all my things, including Blue’s cat food, to
distract me from the nerves I’m feeling about what will come next.
Will Alex ask me for my number? Or is this it? A one-time escapade
with a handsome stranger.
But I should know better. Alex doesn’t beat around the bush. Not
even ten seconds later, he’s got his phone out and ready. “Give me
your number, Al.”
“Well, because you asked so nicely...” I joke.
“Don’t even act like I’m not going to text you.”
I fight back for fun. “And what if I don’t want you to text me?”
“So you want me to work for it… I got ya. What do I need to do?
I’m a very determined guy.”
“I’m sure that comes in handy when you’re lifting that giant tire
at the CrossFit gym,” I taunt.
“Tell me, Al.”
“Alex,” I correct him.
 His mouth lifts up at the corner. “Come on. Spill.”
“Fine.”
I tell him my number, and as he goes to work entering my info
into his contacts, I check out the video game he braved the bomb
cyclone to get. It’s a hockey video game with a player from the
Colorado Storm on the cover. Based on his hat, I knew he was a fan,
but it still seems extreme to chance last night’s weather for a video
game. “So, you never told me, what’s up with the video game?”
“You never asked.”
“I guess not. So now I am.”
“I didn’t have any more on hand and I’m meeting up with this
really great kid I’ve gotten to know at Colorado Children’s Hospital.
He really wants it and I didn’t want to disappoint him when I go over
there today.”
I blink a few times as I try to follow his story. I definitely need
some coffee, because it sounds like he’s not just a dude that works
at a CrossFit gym. As I’m trying to put together the pieces, I look up
to see the creepy guy walking our way. His eyes are full of intention,
clearly wanting to talk to me.
“Jesus,” I whisper. Alex tries to read my reaction and then looks
over his shoulder. I admit it, I use Alex as a buffer and step behind
him.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” the man says.
“It’s okay,” I answer on reflex. I hate how polite I am.
“It’s just that I’m a big fan of yours, Hawk,” he says and looks up
at Alex. “Can I get a photo with you?”
My mouth drops open. This dude wasn’t interested in me at all.
His leering was all about Alex. Because Alex is... Alex Hawkins. Oh
my god. The flipping goalie for the Colorado Storm, the team my
dad coaches. It all comes to me now.
I know I haven’t been paying attention to my dad’s teams the
past few years, but I’ve at least heard of his phenom goalie,
Alexander Hawkins. I don’t know who would shit a bigger brick if
they found out about this: Alex or my dad.
“Sure thing, man,” Alex answers, and the not-so-creepy-after-all
guy hands me his phone to take the photo. My cheeks are burning
from the embarrassment that I got this whole thing so wrong. Even
though I didn’t confront this Kit’s employee or anything, the way I
perceived him was just so off.
Alex smiles beautifully at me while posing with his fan, and I
wonder if he knew what was happening all along and was just using
it as a way to get into my tent and then directly out of his shorts.
I purposely take a few photos with my thumb over the lens
because… men. Am I right? But I don’t have the heart to completely
ruin it for the fan that got a bad rap.
“Can you believe it? We got to spend the night with a famous
hockey player!” I’ve never made sarcasm sound so sweet.
Alex bites on his lip to stifle a laugh.
“Thanks a bunch, Hawk,” the guy says, not even glancing in my
direction. “Good luck in Boston and New York. Although I’m not sure
you need it, Big Mac has been on fire lately.”
“Yeah, I don’t think we’ll need it,” Alex says to him and pats him
on the back.
This entire situation is unbelievably ridiculous. How could I have
not figured this out last night? I mean, look at him. CrossFit gym…
Psh. I’ve seen a fair share of professional hockey players in my life.
He’s got the body for it.
And yet this famous hockey player made me think that some
dude had an unwanted boner for me, when in reality, it was a
hockey boner for him. Alex had to have known the guy was a fan.
I start the bundling process, putting on layer after layer—
admittedly in a dramatic fashion—as Alex comes up to me and helps
me wind my scarf around and around and around. “How ya doin’,
Al?”
I can’t even string three words together for him, but I can
manage two. “Fuck you!”
 4

HAWK

“F uck you !” this woman I’ ve known for a little less than twelve
hours blurts right into my face.
This is not the first time someone I’ve been naked with has
expressed that sentiment to me when we put our clothes back on.
I’ve heard it in French: Va te faire foutre! I’ve heard it in Spanish:
Vete a la mierda! But my favorite language might be Alexandria.
She’s got spitfire and flair and the sweetest fucking mouth in the
entire galaxy. “Oh, baby. Don’t be mad.”
“Don’t you dare baby me, Hawk.” The added emphasis on my
nickname doesn’t go unnoticed. Like I said, spitfire.
“What’s the big deal, darlin’?”
She taps her foot so dramatically it’s like she’s wearing clown
shoes. “Now I’m darlin’?”
I gently press my foot onto hers. “Baby, darlin’, Al, Alex,
Alexandria. There are so many possibilities.”
She slides her foot from beneath mine and puts on her big fluffy
mittens. She’s trying to disappear in wool. Little does she know that
as long as I can see those playful eyes that are more purple than
they are blue, she’ll be the most vibrant person in the room.
“Hey, what’s your last name?”
Her eyes enlarge to the point of bulging. “Why does it even
matter?” she asks.
“Better question, why wouldn’t it matter?”
 She thinks on her response a little too long. “Because you’ll
forget it five minutes from now.”
That sounds like a dare, and what she should probably know is
that I always win at Truth or Dare. I mean, look at me. Do I look like
a guy that would lose at Truth or Dare? Need I even say it out loud?
But if she wants to play games, I’ll play right along.
“Yeah, you’re right, never mind.”
Her lips, which may be the single best thing I’ve chewed on since
I moved to Colorado, turn down a little. That little grump face of
hers tears me in two. One half hates to see her unhappy, but the
other, more competitive half, is delighted that I’m already winning.
She looks over her shoulder at the guy who I genuinely thought
was leering at her. Being overly protective is not one of my schticks
to get a girl into bed. It’s not even a side of me that I have. How can
someone be overprotective and jealous for a woman he has no
intention of actually getting serious with?
I’ve been on the receiving end of that Man Drama countless
times, though. Like with our team captain, Christopher, and his
fiancée, Summer. God, once I realized he was going all caveman, I
couldn’t help myself. I had to mess with him. Dude could seriously
learn to lighten up when it comes to his girl.
Then again, there was nothing light about how I felt when I
thought that guy was looking at Alex the wrong way. There was this
unusual hot, itchy sensation that ran up my spine, tightening all my
muscles, like I could pounce on him at the slightest provocation. Is
that what it’s like when you find your woman? Did I become the
hunter to her gatherer? The knight to her damsel? The goalie to her
net?
Bullshit.
Alexandria Whatever-Her-Last-Name-Is doesn’t need any of that.
She probably just played along with me because she wanted me to
be the cock to her hen house. I was all game until I realized I didn’t
have any condoms and—this part is hard to admit to myself—I didn’t
want to go all the way with her.
I mean, I did. I do. But if I’m trying to change my relationships
with women and find something more meaningful than another one-
night stand, I have to implement some self-control. A one-night
stand with Alex would leave me with that nagging feeling that I’ve
lost another opportunity at something real.
All that being said, I may not ever see her again because she
seems really pissed about figuring out my identity. I have no idea
why. When she didn’t know who I was, I just figured she didn’t
follow hockey. I’ve got to get this back on track. “Come on, Al. Let’s
get out of this place.”
“I’m leaving, but not because you suggested it.” She starts
making her way toward the door, bundled up once again like the
little kid in A Christmas Story. It’s so fucking adorable that I bite on
my knuckle to suppress my smile.
I follow her out into the snow and per usual, this Colorado
snowstorm is weaksauce. The snow is basically in drifts and not
even ankle-deep. The sun is already peeking out and it’s probably
like -2, Celsius. Whatever that converts to in Fahrenheit. Like 28?
Ain’t no thing.
Of all the cars that I could pick out for Al, the last one on the list
would be an old white pickup truck. I’d have guessed a green VW
bug, or one of those blue FJ Cruisers that look like they’re made for
Barbie dolls.
Maybe my car doesn’t fit me either, or maybe it fits me perfectly
if you think I’m an actual douchebag. I like to think higher of myself
than that, but yeah, it’s a red Porsche Cayenne with all the bells and
whistles. The license plate reads HAWWWK. Grade-A douche, I
know. I did it on a whim because the guy at the DMV was being a
real dick about the car, so I just went the whole nine yards with it.
It’s usually not possible to change someone’s perception, so why not
dive right into the role?
With Alexandria, I think I’ll give it a try though. Right now she
thinks I’m a lot of things. Professional Hockey Player, true.
Extraordinary Love Maker, guilty. Game Player, only if she’s game.
Liar, what’s a lie? Is an omission a lie? I mean, she’s the one who
made an assumption about me—based on my body, no less—since
she thought I worked at a CrossFit gym. I’ve spent a good chunk of
my life in a gym, so that’s not really a lie at all.
 How does she know so much about CrossFit gyms anyway? Does
she go to one? An image of Alex in spandex climbing a rope comes
to mind and it makes my dick spring to life. Why is she climbing a
rope in this fantasy? My mind is whack.
She unlocks her truck and opens the door with an ear-grating
squeak.
“It’s called WD-40, baby. I’ve got some back at my place if you
want to come over.”
“In your dreams,” she mumbles and tosses her bags across the
bench seat. She grabs a giant snow brush that is nearly as tall as
she is and leans it against the truck. I’d say I need one of those, but
my wingspan is 196 centimeters. She leans over the seat in her
truck, and man, even in all those layers, I’m tempted to grab her by
the hips and do all the things I wanted to do last night. She
attempts to start her truck but all it does is click.
“Shit,” she whispers and flops the front of her body across the
seat. Why is everything she does so cute?
“Come on, Al. I’ll give you a ride.” I step behind her and lift her
back up by her middle. She plays ragdoll real well until she ends up
laughing at my poking. I file away the fact that she’s ticklish for use
at a later date.
“I don’t need a ride. I just need jumper cables. I’ll call roadside
assistance.”
“And you think they’re going to make it out here the morning
after a storm? I’ve got some back at my place. Let’s grab some
breakfast and swing by to get them.”
“I’m sure someone else has some,” she says and starts looking
around. I don’t really understand why she’s so resistant to the idea
of spending more time with me. I guess she really was offended by
my lie of omission.
Just my luck, my fan that works at Kit’s comes out to the parking
lot. He waves at us—well, at me—and I groan.
Alex doesn’t think I catch her eye roll, but of course I do. Then
she perks up. “Hey, do you have any jumper cables?” she shouts
across the parking lot at him.
“Yeah! I can give you a jump.”
 “Great, thank you.” She turns her gaze back to me. “Don’t you
have somewhere to be?”
“I’m good,” I tell her. The truth is, I’m still not into the idea of her
being alone with this guy.
“Well, I’m good too. Completely. Thank you for the… experience,”
she says and reaches her mittened hand out toward mine.
She thinks this is it, which is so funny it takes everything in me
not to burst out laughing. This will not be where we part ways. I
need more of her, and I think if she were honest with herself, she’d
admit that she wants more of me too.
Nevertheless, I play along and shake her hand. “You’re welcome,
Al.”
There’s no way I’m going to give up. It’s not who I am. And for
once, I’ve got a bit of a challenge on my hands.

Colorado Children’s Hospital is one of the finest in the nation,

especially for treating kids with Osteosarcoma, better known as bone
cancer. While treatment options haven’t changed much since I had
my scare back in seventh grade, the hospital does great work in
support of the kids and families. The lucky ones don’t always have to
lose their limbs.
Brendan wasn’t one of the lucky ones. He lost his right leg about
two weeks ago.
Every time I visit him, the scar on my left leg tingles. This
afternoon is no exception.
Brendan is in a reclining chair, playing a video game. He lights up
when he sees me and immediately presses pause on his game. “Hey,
Hawk. You came back!”
“Brendan, my man.” I offer him a fist bump and he goes for it
stronger and harder than most kids do that come to the arena for
games. “I told you I would. And look what I brought.” I whip out the
copy of Center Ice that led me to Kit’s last night and into
Alexandria’s tent.
 Brendan grabs for it and checks it out. “This is so cool, you even
signed it. What’s it like being on the cover of a video game? That’s
like my dream.”
“It’s pretty awesome, but not as awesome as getting to play it
with you. You’re like an all-star video game player.”
“That’s cause it’s all I ever do,” he says as he continues to check
out the artwork on the game. It’s not meant to be sad for me to
hear, but it’s sad, nonetheless. Being a kid is all about freedom.
Freedom like what I had growing up in Alberta. Even after I had
surgery to remove the benign tumor from my tibia, I was able to
bounce back after a couple of months and get back on the ice,
better than ever. I never take for granted how I lucky I was. “Can
we play it?”
“Of course. That’s why I’m here. But you’ll have to show me how,
is that okay? I’m really good at listening to a coach. You’ll be my
coach, eh?”
Brendan smiles wide enough for me to see he’s lost another
tooth since I was here just a week ago. “Yeah, sure!”
While I’m opening the game, Brendan’s parents Glenn and
Darlene come in, each holding a coffee from the hospital cafe. Their
eyes are a little less red and puffy around the edges than the last
time I was here, and I’m hopeful they’ve gotten some good news.
Brendan’s dad smiles, and it’s the first time I’ve seen either of them
do that.
“Hey guys,” I say, happy to see them like this.
“Hey, Hawk. Thanks for coming back,” Darlene says.
“You brought the game,” Glenn points out and smiles even more
when he sees how happy his son is.
“Yep. I got caught up in that bomb cyclone to get it. I actually
got trapped at Kit’s Superstore for the night.”
“Oh no,” Darlene says and covers her mouth. “I’m so sorry you
went out of your way like that.”
“No! I’m not complaining. Not at all. It’s my pleasure to get to
hang out with this guy and have him show me how to play it so I
don’t get schooled by my teammates.”
 “Well, you’re on the cover of the game,” Brendan reminds me.
“They’re the ones who got schooled.”
“I like where your head’s at, kid,” I reply.
“We’ll let you guys hang out,” Glenn says. “Thanks again.”
“I’ll come grab you when Brendan has finished wiping the floor
with me.”
And that is exactly what he does. The boy is really, really good.
Granted, I’m also supremely distracted. For as hard as I try to focus
on the game, my mind wanders time and again to Alex. Everything
passes through my head. The softness of her lips on mine, how
good it felt to hold her hips in my hands, the way her hair smelled
like lavender and sage and some sort of solvent that I’m guessing
painters use.
An hour passes just like that, and Brendan has beat me in a few
games already. When he yawns, I can tell it’s time for me to go so
he can rest.
“When are you getting out of here?” I ask him.
“Don’t know yet. Well, at least I don’t know. Mom and Dad don’t
always tell me stuff, you know.”
“Yeah, I know.” My parents were the same way. Before I had my
surgery, they didn’t even tell me it was a tumor. They were so
scared, and I couldn’t understand why. It was just beyond me to
connect the dots. “Well, when you get out of here, how would you
feel about coming to one of my games? It’s not as cool as this game,
but it’s got nachos.”
That makes him perk up. “Oh yeah? That would be so cool! Will
you ask my parents?”
“Yep, that’s what I’m going to go do. But hey, listen, if it doesn’t
happen for a while, that’s okay. You’ve got to take care of yourself.
And I’ll be around, all right? I ain’t going anywhere.”
“Yeah, I get it,” he says, but I can already tell he’s a little
disappointed. I probably should have talked to his parents first to
understand what’s actually going on with him.
“Okay. Until next time, my dude,” I tell him, and we fist bump
again.
 Glenn and Darlene are sitting in the nearby family waiting room,
watching an episode of a home improvement show on the TV that’s
perched in the corner of the room.
“Hi guys,” I say, leaning against the doorframe.
“Hey, Hawk,” Glenn says. “Did Brendan cream you?”
“Sure did.”
That makes both of them smile.
“How’s he doing?” I ask and cross my arms tightly over my chest.
My stomach tightens up like I’ve just done a hundred sit-ups.
Darlene perks up with tears in her eyes. “Good. It didn’t
metastasize.”
My stomach eases up and I feel my own tears creeping up.
“That’s great news.” This makes Brendan’s prognosis significantly
better.
“Yeah,” Glenn agrees and swallows hard. “But you know, it’s
hard. His life will be so different now without his leg.”
I nod, unsure of what to say. Reassuring them that prosthetic
technology is improving every year doesn’t do much when they’ve
been through what they’ve been through. “Well, I know that
Brendan still has some rounds of chemo to go through, and he’ll
need physical therapy too, but I’d love to have you all come to a
game as my guests.”
“Oh, he’ll love that!” Darlene squeaks.
“Yeah, he will,” Glenn says and squeezes her hand.
“Great, I’ll be back next week. Unless he gets to go home
sooner?” I say with a spark of hope.
“Doctor Cisneros says we’ll be here through the rest of the
month, so come on back as much as you’d like.”
“Okay, I will, and maybe I’ll bring along a teammate or two.”
Glenn stands up to shake my hand. I pull him into a hug, and
then Darlene too.
As I hold them, I think about how they could have been my
parents. Drinking stale hospital coffee, watching boring TV, terrified
for every single second of everyday that they may outlive their only
son. I thank my lucky stars every day that they weren’t.
On the short drive home, I call my mom.
 “Hey, pie, how are you?” she says in greeting. In the
background, I can hear the garbage disposal and the dog barking
and the TV blaring. It’s another crazy day at Casa de Hawkins way
up north.
“Good. We got some weather.”
“Are you wearing a coat?”
Oof. Busted. “You know me too well.”
“Of course I do. You’re my little guy,” she says.
“Mom, I’m six-three.”
“Alex, you’ll always be my little guy. Where ya headed?”
“Home from the hospital. I was visiting Brendan again. It’s not
metastatic.”
“That’s great news. I’ve been meaning to ask, how’s the charity
coming along? Brooke hasn’t told me much about it lately. She
mostly just talks about her dog,” she says about my older sister and
manager of my charity that funds research into Osteosarcoma.
“Yeah, that’s all she talks about to me too. To be fair, Donut is a
great dog.”
“What kind of name is Donut?” she asks me.
“You’re too hard on her,” I tell my mom. “You should be as nice
to her as you are to me, you know that, right?”
“I am plenty nice to her. You’re just my little guy.”
I burst out a good old-fashioned ughhhhh. “Mom, stop calling me
that. I’m an adult.”
“You’re still in your twenties.”
“Like I said, an adult.”
“Have you been doing your laundry? If not, I bet Brooke will. I’ll
call and tell her.”
“Christ, don’t do that. She didn’t move down here to do my
laundry. She moved down here to run the charity, okay? And she’s
doing a great job at it too. She’s already planning our next big event
for after the season ends.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear she’s not just riding on your coattails,
honey.”
Normally, my mom is the sweetest person in the world. Well, she
is to me at least. I’ve always been my mom’s unabashed favorite.
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
 A német diplomatáknak az az állítása, hogy a kis államoknak el
kell tünniök a nagyok javára, oly fölfogásból ered, amely egykor
szabatos volt, de a világ mostani gazdasági fejlődésére már nem
alkalmazható. A maguk függetlenségét megőrző kis államok
szövetsége ma lehetséges, míg annexiójukat csak nagyon költséges
katonai elnyomással lehetne fenntartani.
A tények megfigyelésén alapuló s fejlődő eszmék világításában
az idegen területek leigázása, a mostani háború főcélja, csakhamar
olyan műveletnek fog mutatkozni, amely romlást hoz a jelenben és
semmi hasznot a jövőben.
Az angol miniszterelnök mondta a parlamentben, hogy a népek
jövője attól a résztől függ, amelyet a háború tanulságaiból kivesznek.
A világ valóban a művelődésnek abba a korszakába lépett, amidőn a
délibábok époly vészthozók volnának, mint a legrombolóbb
betörések.

4. A termékenység szerepe.

A mikróbától az emberig a termékenység ha nem is a

fennsőbbségnek, de legalább a boldogulásnak mindig oka volt. A
germán betörések idején, amelyek a római művelődést
szétrombolták, a hódítók ernyedetlen termékenysége volt a diadaluk
főfeltétele. Mert, ha ezerszámra ölték is őket, helyükbe új ezrek
születtek.
Minden nép, amely túlságosan fejlődik, végzetszerűleg hódítóvá
és rombolóvá válik olyan népekkel szemben, amelyek
termékenysége kisebb.
Valamely ország veszélyessé válik szomszédai számára, ha a
földje nem nyujtja neki többé kielégítő mennyiségben a táplálékot. Az
éhség volt a nagy betörések forrása, amelyek egykor Európát
fölforgatták.
 Ha a germán hordák egykor nem özönlik el a földet, amely
képtelenné vált őket táplálni, a világ nem ismerte volna meg sem a
római civilizáció rombadőlését, sem a középkor ezer évét, sem a
mostani háborút.
Veszélyes csöndesen haladni olyan nép szomszédságában,
amely nagyon rohamosan nő. A világháború bebizonyította ennek az
igazságnak fontosságát.
A németek, akik a háború elején látták, hogy – azonos okokból,
mint Franciaországban – a születések arányszáma csökkenni kezd,
ennek az orvosszerét nem pénzügyi eljárásokban keresték, hanem
abban a meggondolásban, hogy népsürítés politikája elsősorban a
vidék betelepítésének politikája.
Több közgazda eszményül állítja oda a népek elé azt, hogy
versenyezzenek a termékenységben. Már pedig az élő lényeknek
története, a rovarétól az emberéig s a germán betörések korától a
mai háborúig arról tanuskodik, hogy a túlnépesedés mindig irtó és
hódító háborúkra vezetett.
Darwin ragaszkodott ehhez az általános, s szerinte, kivételt nem
tűrő törvényhez: az élő lények olyan arányban szaporodnak, hogy
bármely fajhoz tartozó egyetlen állatpár leszármazói rohamosan
elárasztanák a világot, ha szabály nem volna az, hogy minden
nemzedék egy része föltétlenül elpusztul. Ugyanennek a törvénynek
engedelmeskednek az emberi lények kényszerűen, amidőn, nagyon
megsokasodván, vagy kölcsönösen tönkreteszik egymást, vagy
rárontanak a szomszéd országokra.
A nép minősége sokkal fontosabb tényezője a haladásnak, mint
mennyisége. Ha ez máskép volna, a világ legnépesebb országai,
mint Oroszország és Kína a civilizáció élén haladnának, ahelyett,
hogy félbarbárok lennének.
Az ipari típusú társadalmakban a siker szükségszerűleg nem a
legnépesebb, hanem legdolgosabb, legfegyelmezettebb, az együttes
erőfeszítésre legképesebb népeket illeti meg, ha egyidejűleg van
elég vasuk és szenük.
 Egy szénnélküli nagy országnak nem lehet érdeke népességét
nagyon növelni. Itália, amelynek nincs szene, nem tudott igazi ipari
állammá lenni és, úgy látszik, szegénységre van kárhoztatva.
 V. RÉSZ.

A NEMZETEK HATALMÁNAK LELKI

TÉNYEZŐI.

1. Egynéhány másodrendű tulajdonság szerepe a

népek életében.

Oly tulajdonságok, amelyek nem használhatók a művelődés

bizonyos korszakaiban, előmozdíthatják a nép boldogulását, ha
megváltozott életkörülmények megengedik hasznosításukat.
Az irodalmi, művészi és értelmi fölény bizonyos civilizációkban
(pl. a régi görögöknél, a renaissance olaszainál) a nagyság főelemei
voltak. Ellenben a türelem, kitartás, a szabályoknak való
engedelmesség és egyéb sajátságok, amelyeket egykor
közepeseknek tartottak, az ipari jellegű művelődésben a siker
föltételei közé sorakoznak.
A modern kor szövevényes technikájával és
munkamegosztásával, megköveteli a türelem, éber vigyázat,
aprólékos pontosság, kitartó erőfeszítés és szolidaritás erényeit,
amelyeket az élénk eszű individualista-fajok csak nehezebben
tudnak megvalósítani.
 A folytonosság érzése a népek számára az állandóságot jelenti,
amelyet csak nagyon lassan tudnak elérni, de amely nélkül nem
tudnának sem tartósan élni, sem emelkedni.
A modern népek ereje egyre kevésbbé függ kormányzóitól,
ellenben millió és millió apró erőfeszítések összeadásából
sommázódik össze. Valamely ország növekedik, ha minden polgára
dolgozik a nagyságán. Ám hanyatlása rohamos, ha ráhagyja az
államra a kezdeményezést és felelősséget.
A népek sikereit manapság kevésbbé köszönheti kormányzói
vagy élite-je értékének, mint bizonyos másodrangú
tulajdonságoknak, amelyekkel azonban a polgárok többsége
dicsekedhetik.
Az egyéni fölényes tulajdonságokat néha teljesen helyettesíthetik
szerény kollektiv sajátságok. A németek pl. közepes egyéniségek
porszemeiből nagyon erős tömegeket tudtak megalkotni. A nép élite-
jének fölénye nem elég a nép nagyságának megalapozására.

2. Az akarat és erőfeszítés.

A Marne-i csata, amely megmentette Párist a pusztulástól és a

franciák nemzeti életének legfontosabb eseménye, emlékezetes
példája az emberi akarat uralkodó szerepének, amelyet a történelem
úgynevezett végzetszerűségei fölött gyakorol.
A modern lélektan egyik legtermékenyebb fölfedezése, hogy
tudatos cselekvőségünk csak fölszínes nyilvánulása a még sokkal
fontosabb öntudatlan cselekvőségünknek.
Az akarat lehet tudatos és öntudatlan. Az öntudatlan akaratnál az
elhatározás egészen megformálva lép a tudat mezejére. A tudatos
akaratot ellenben megelőzi az indokok megfontolása s
következéskép értékelése.
 A legmegfontoltabb akarati elhatározás majdnem mindig
magában foglal egy rész öntudatlan akaratot, amely hozzájárult, ha
nem is megszűléséhez, de legalább erősítéséhez. Amikor az
Egyesült-Államok megüzenték a háborút Németországnak,
valószínű, hogy az indokok serpenyőjében, ahol elhatározásaink
mérlegelődnek, öntudatlanul is belekerültek olyas tényezők is, mint
pl.: a hadsereg hasznossága a Mexikóval vagy Japánnal való
háború esetén, az elsőrangú szerep, amelyre az Egyesült-Államok a
világ dolgainak intézésében hivatva van stb. A motivumoknak ébből
a tömbjéből végül előugrott a háborús elhatározás.
Ha sokszor nagy eltérés van valakinek beszédei és tettei közt, ez
azért van, mert az öntudatlan akarat élesen különböztet a fölületes
befolyások teremtette tudatos akarattól. Láttuk ezt a háború
kezdetén, amidőn pacifisták és szocialisták elméletüktől annyira
eltérően cselekedtek.
Az öntudatlan akarat, amelyet bennünk őseink teremtettek s
utóbb a nevelés és a környezet befolyása erősítettek meg, irányozza
cselekedeteinket. A tudatos akarat ellenben különösen beszédeinket
irányozza.
Az ember helyét az életben nem az határozza meg, hogy mit tud,
hanem, hogy mit akar és mit bír.
Az események uralkodnak a gyenge akaratokon. Ellenben az
erős akaratok uralkodnak az eseményeken.
Hogy előrehaladjunk, nem elég cselekedni akarni, hanem
mindenekelőtt tudni kell, mily értelemben kell cselekedni.
A tisztánlátás még ritkább, mint az akarat.
A tett embere vagy alkotó vagy romboló, erőfeszítéseinek iránya
szerint.
A haladás az erőfeszítés folytonosságából születik meg; a
hanyatlás a pihenésből.
 Az erőfeszítés állandóságára csupán az által lehet szert tenni,
hogy ezt az erőfeszítést kellő neveléssel szokássá változtatjuk. Nem
lehet ezt az eredményt a könyvmagoltatástól várni.
A folytonos erőfeszítés valóban csodákat tud teremteni. Neki
köszönhette Anglia, hogy oly kevéssé militarista létére megtudott
teremteni egy négy milliós hadsereget és hogy át tudta alakítani
összes létföltételeit.
A világ legközelebbi fejlődése arra utalja a népeket, hogy
számítsanak egy keveset szövetségeseikre, de sokkal inkább
tulajdon erőfeszítéseikre. Miután tapasztalásból megtanulták, hogy a
jognak erő nélkül mily kevés az értéke, meg kell szerezniök az arra
szolgáló hatalmat, hogy sohase váljanak legyőzöttekké.
Bizonyos, mindenfajta erőfeszítés ellen lázongó emberek sötét
tétlensége nem különbözik lényegesen a sír nyugalmától. Az ilyen
élőholtak csak látszólag élnek.

3. Az alkalmazkodás.

Az alkalmazkodás törvényét uralja minden élőlény.

Alkalmazkodva átalakulni, vagy anélkül eltűnni: egyetemes
szükségszerűség.
Ahogyan az éghajlat minden változása a fauna és flóra gyökeres
átváltozását idézi elő, akképen minden gazdasági, vallásos, politikai
vagy társadalmi változás szükségszerűen követeli, hogy a hatása
alá tartozó népek lelkivilága is új alkalmazkodáson menjen keresztül.
A lelki ragály az alkalmazkodás hatalmas eszköze. Az ember
önkénytelenül is meghajol a környezetétől elfogadott módosítások
előtt. A nehézség csak azok kiválasztása, akik hivatva vannak példát
adni.
A lelki életnek két főbefolyás szab irányt: a múlt környezeté,
amelynek bélyegét az átöröklés tartja fenn, s a jelen környezeté,
amely fokról-fokra átalakítja az élőlényeket. Ettől a kétféle
befolyástól nem lehet menekülni, de a haladás lehetetlen, ha az
egyiknek hatalma megbénítja a másikat.
A néplélek állandósága, amely a rendes életben a nép
főerőforrása, akadályául szolgál oly korszakokban, amidőn a gyors
alkalmazkodásra van szükség. Ez volt az eset Angliában, amelynek
a háború megüzenésétől kezdve több mint egy évet kellett áldoznia
arra, hogy az egészen új körülményekhez alkalmazkodjék.
A gyors alkalmazkodás mindig kínos; mert ha már csak nagy
ügygyel-bajjal alakítjuk át életmódunkat, gondolkozásunk módját
még nehezebben változtatjuk meg.
Valamely nép hanyatlásnak indul, ha társadalmi meze, vértezete
túlságosan merev arra, semhogy meghajolhasson a lét új feltételei
előtt. A nagy birodalmak bukásának leggyakoribb oka az volt, hogy
képtelenek lettek az alkalmazkodásra a körülmények által váratlanul
előidézett szükségletekhez.
Minden nép a civilizációnak csupán egy bizonyos, elhatárolt
mennyiségét tudja fölszívni.
A társadalom legnagyobb veszélye, ha sok olyan egyént foglal
magában, akik alacsonyabbrendű evolució-korban maradtak meg s
ennélfogva rosszúl alkalmazkodtak a társadalom jelen állapotához.
A modern kor egyre könyörtelenebbé válik a nem-
alkalmazkodottakhoz. Az új szükségletek csakhamar ki fogják
küszöbölni a letűnt korok e túlélőit.

4. A nevelés.

Az emberek viselkedését sokkal inkább vezeti jellemük, mint

értelmük; ennélfogva a nevelés céljáúl a jellem idomítását kellene
kitűzni. A németek ismerik ezt az igazságot, de a francia Egyetem,
úgy látszik, egyáltalában nem ismeri.
 A nevelés beleolthatná a tanítvány lelkébe a testületi szellemet
azzal, hogy úgy érdekelteti az osztálya sikereivel, mintha a tulajdon
sikerei volnának. Megtanulná akkor, hogy a versenytársakkal jobb
társulni, mint velük küzdeni. Mig Franciaország nagyon nem ismeri
ezt az alapelvet, Németországban az az ipari hatalom egyik eleme.
A technikai nevelés, az iskola s utóbb a kaszárnya fegyelme, az
együttes erőfeszítés képessége könnyítik meg a németeknek az
elrendelt munka aprólékos végrehajtását. Nem is a tanító, hanem a
technikus teszi lehetővé Németország ipari terjeszkedését.
Egy tudós professzor tökéletes módon összegezte technikai
nevelésünk állapotát, ezt írván:
«A háború arra hajtott, hogy néhány hónap alatt megteremtsünk
egy félelmetes kémiai fölszerelést, amikor béke idején vonakodtunk
tökéletesíteni valamely kezdetleges anyagot, amelyért
versenytársaink lesajnáltak.»
Már akkor is fölfogjuk a technikai nevelés hasznosságát, ha
csupán a földművelési oktatást vesszük szemügyre. A szakemberek
azt állítják, hogy ha gabonaneműekben elérnők ugyanazt a
hektárhozadékot, mint a németek, – pedig az ő földjük sokkal
silányabb, mint Franciaországé – a mi nemzeti vagyonunk évente
két milliárddal növekednék.
Franciaországban a földművelés még mindig kevésbbé
tekintélyes foglalkozás, ámbár változatosabb ismereteket igényel,
mint a legtöbb egyéb szakma. «Az az ember, aki jól tud igazgatni
egy majort, képes volna kormányozni az indiai császárságot is» –
mondá az angol miniszter.
Az ipari és kereskedelmi oktatás reformja, amelyet Anglia
abszolut hasznosnak itél, még szükségesebb lenne
Franciaországban, de sokáig fog még az Egyetem ellenkezésébe
ütközni, amely azt követeli, hogy mindent ő igazgasson, holott
tusakodik minden változtatás ellen.
A vessző az iskolában, a bot a kaszárnyában teszi a németeket
képessé, hogy ellentmondás nélkül engedelmeskedjenek főnökeik
parancsainak. Ámde az energia, amelyet a háború alatt oly népek
fejtettek ki, amelyeknél az említett eljárás ismeretlen, bizonyítja,
hogy az emberi lélek fegyelmezhető kevésbbé szolgai módszerekkel
is.
Egy porosz hadügyminiszter állította a mostani viszály folyamán,
hogy az ifjúság katonai előkészítésének az iskolában ne csupán az
legyen a célja, hogy az ifjúság erősödjék, hanem az is «hogy féket
vessen a személyes függetlenségnek és kezdeményezésnek, amely
azzal fenyeget, hogy szétbomlasztó szubjektivizmussá fajul el, ami a
demokráciák végromlása.» Az ilyen elvek csak arra jók, hogy
katonákat formáljanak, akik készek magukat feláldozni egy uralkodó
nagyravágyó terveinek.
Ha a demokratikus egyenlőség megvalósítható, az csak oly
nevelési rendszerrel érhető el, amely minden egyén sajátságos
képességeit hasznosítja. Politikai intézményekkel e részt nem lehet
célt érni.
A német nevelés egyik erőforrása, hogy változatos tanítás
segítségével mindegyik tanítványból ki tudja csiholni a különböző
képességeket. A latin fajok rosszabb nevelésének egyik oka viszont
éppen az, hogy ugyanazt az oktatást alkalmazzák elütő elmebeli
képességek mellett is.
Nem volna szabad, hogy a nevelés célja kézikönyvek szajkózása
legyen, hanem csak az, hogy gondolkozási és jellembeli szokásokat
teremtsen. Egyetemeink tisztán emléző oktatása kevéssé fejleszti az
értelmet, a jellemet meg sehogysem. Ezt egyaránt kevéssé értették
még meg a tanárok, szülők és tanítványok.
Nem lehet remélni semmiféle javulását a francia nevelésnek,
amig továbbra is olyan egyetemi tanárok irányítják, akik csak
könyveiken át ismerik a világot.
A merőben értelmi nevelés hamar oka lesz a dekadenciának.
A könyvek elméletei a világegyetemnek csak elnyomorított
nézését szolgáltatják, amelynek nincs kapcsolata a tapasztalat
tanításaival.
 Az angolok joggal azt tartják, hogy bizonyos iskolai játékok
nagyon hasznosan készítenek elő az életre. Egy sportcsapat
csakugyan magában foglalja a társulást, a hierarchiát, fegyelmet,
megannyi oly tulajdonságot, amelyet egy, boldogulni akaró
társadalom sem nélkülözhet.
Egyik legszükségesebb reform lesz: minden francia ifjúba és
leányba beleoltani a fegyelem tiszteletét. Ez semmivé vált a
családban, semmivé az iskolában, semmivé az igazgatásban,
semmivé a fegyvergyárakban, – egy szó, mint száz: semmivé
mindenütt.
Aki önmagától nem tud magán uralkodni, azt kényszeríti a
törvény; de ez a rátukmált fegyelem soha sem ér föl a belső
fegyelemmel, amelyet a nevelés megadhat.
A háború után a nevelés reformja lesz a legégetőbb feladat.
Ámbár fölvilágosult szellemek hiába próbálták meg egyetemünk
módosítását, azért nem kell kétségbeesni, hogy ez nem sikerül. Arra
kell gondolni, hogy a nagy katasztrófák szülői a reformoknak, miket a
békeidők minden vitája sem tudott elérni.
Az a nevelés, amely eléri, hogy az itélőképesség és az akaraterő
növekedjék, tökéletes, akármit is tanítottak légyen. Egyedül ezekkel
a tulajdonságokkal az ember már irányítani tudja a sorsát.
Többet ér a megértés, mint a tanulás.

5. Az erkölcs.

A népek erejének okai közt elsősorban szerepel

erkölcsösségüknek foka. Amidőn Oroszország hadifölszerelés és
élelem nélkül látta magát, egész sora miatt a megvesztegetett
minisztereknek, tábornokoknak és hivatalnokoknak, világosan
tapasztalhatta az erkölcsnek szerepét a nemzetek életében.
 Valamely nép erkölcse múltjának műve. A jelen teremti meg a
jövő erényeit. Mi apáink moráljából élünk s a mi fiaink a mienkből
fognak élni.
Minden erkölcsszabály először nyűg, kényszer, amit ránk kell
tukmálni. Csupán az ismétlés csinál belőle könnyen elfogadható
szokást.
Az emelkedett kereskedői erkölcs bármely népnek felsőbbséget
biztosít vetélytársain, amelyek még nem érték el az erkölcsiségnek
ugyanazt a fokát. Ha például egy kiadó valamely régi utazási kalauz
borítékára friss évszámot nyomat, hogy megtévessze a vevőt, vagy
ha egy jónevű objektiv kereskedő ráteszi a cégjelét egy közönséges
gyártmányra, ezzel csak kedveznek az idegen versenytársaknak,
akik folyamatos sorban tartják kalauzaikat, s hitelesítik eszközeiket.
A mostani háború adalékot szolgáltat annak a bizonyítására,
hogy még a politikában is hasznos a becsületesség. Németország
ma már tudja, mibe került neki Belgium tekintetében vállalt
kötelezettségeinek megsértése. Az orosz miniszterek, akik elárulták
hazájukat és okozták a balszerencsét, amelynek viszont a
forradalom volt a következménye, bizonyosan komoly gondolatokat
gondoltak végig celláikban a becsületesség előnyeiről.
Az okokkal támogatott tisztesség bölcs dolog, de már annál a
puszta ténynél fogva, hogy okoskodik, az az irányzata, hogy ne
legyen tisztesség.
A német diplomácia egyik legbiztosabb eredménye volt, hogy az
egyetemes bizalmatlanságot idézte föl. Németország az egész
világon aláásta a beszédeiben való hitet. Soká fogja megszenvedni
ezt az ezentúl leronthatatlan bizalmatlanságot.

6. A szervezet és az illetékesség.
 A szervezet egyszerűen a minden tudomány uralta alapelvek
alkalmazása: valamely jelenség szülő elemeinek
szétkülönböztetése, külön-külön tanulmányozása, s mindegyikük
befolyásának kutatása. Az ilyen módszer magában foglalja a
munkamegosztást, az illetékességet és a fegyelmet.
Nagy Sándortól Augusztusig s Napoleonig minden
magasabbrendű szellem nagy szervező volt. Egyikük sem ismerte
félre, hogy szervezni nemcsak annyit tesz, mint szabályokat alkotni,
hanem annyit is, hogy végre is kell hajtatni azokat. Ebben a
végrehajtásban rejlik a szervezés fő-fő nehézsége.
A szervezés lehetetlen, ha minden egyén és minden dolog nincs
a maga helyén. Ennek az elemi igazságnak alkalmazása, sajnos,
olyan éleslátást igényel, amely bizonyos népeknél elég ritka.
Bármely szervezet értéke a főnöktől függ, akit élére állítanak. A
kollektivitások alkalmasak a végrehajtásra, de képtelenek az
irányításra és még kevésbbé képesek az alkotásra.
Az együttes munka megszokása és fegyelme – a szociális
előrelátás intézményeire, a biztosításra, a munkaképtelenség és
aggkor esetére való gondoskodásra, s a technikai nevelésre
alkalmazva – végtelenül jó szolgálatot tettek a németeknek. Így pl. a
tanoncügy szervezése náluk megakadályozta a kézmű válságát,
amely annyira fenyegeti Franciaországot.
A szolgálati ágak egymás mellé rendelésének hiánya nyilván a
leghelyrehozhatatlanabb hibája a latinfajú népek közigazgatásának.
Egész sorozata a minisztereknek hiába próbálta ezt orvosolni. Ez a
baj annyira dühöngött, hogy Párisban ugyanannak az utcának a
kövezetét egy hónap alatt háromszor vagy négyszer bontották föl és
burkolták be, mivel a gáz, a vízvezeték és villamosság
üzemvezetőségei nem jutottak megegyezésre, hogy az egész
műveletet csak egyszer hajtsák végre a kellő sorrendben. A háború
alatt is láttuk, hogy Amerikába két különböző miniszteriumnak
kiküldött hatósági közegei versengtek egymással, hogy ugyanazt a
lóállományt vásárolják meg s a vevő természetesen, megegyezés
hiányában, végül négyszer oly magas árt fizetett.
 Ha valamely közüzemben az ellenőrzést nagyon szaporítják, ez
annyira elaprózza a felelősséget, hogy végezetre az egészen
elsikkad. Akit túlsokan ellenőriznek, azt sohasem ellenőrzik jól.
Sok országban a nyilvános üzemek szervezetének csekély
értéke nemcsak az alkalmazottak közömbösségének és a
felelősségtől való félelmüknek tulajdonítható, hanem annak is, hogy
gyakran a protekció helyettesíti a rátermettség adta illetékességet.
Az amerikaiak nagyon a nyitjára jöttek a szervezés minden
csínjának-bínjának. Nagy mérnökük: Taylor megmutatta, hogy a
legtöbb gyári munkában – módszeresen kiküszöbölvén a
haszontalan erőfeszítéseket, – ugyanazt az eredményt sokkal
kevesebb fáradsággal lehet elérni. Most már sok német gyár is
ugyaneszerint az alapelv szerint van megszervezve.
A szükség hamarosan hatalmas tényezőjévé válik a
szervezésnek. Kétséges, hogy a németek nagyhírű rendszeressége
felsőbbrendű-e azzal a szellemmel szemben, amely lehetővé tette
az angoloknak, hogy két év alatt négymilliós sereget alakítsanak
összes tisztjeivel, municiójával, s azzal a szövevényes
anyagkészlettel, amelyet a modern háború megkövetel.
Gazdasági és kormányzati gyöngeségünk egyik oka azzal függ
össze, hogy nálunk az iparosokat a kormányok vagy nem vették
tekintetbe, vagy gyanús szemmel nézték. A háború szükségletei
azonban nélkülözhetetlenné tették közreműködésüket s megkellett
állapítani, hogy a nagyon is bonyolult problémák, hála az ő
munkájuknak, könnyen megoldódtak. És ha nem dolgoztak elég
gyorsan, ez onnan volt, hogy a hivatalok félelmetes illetéktelensége
állandóan akadályozta munkájukat.
Az amerikai élelmezési főbiztos programmszerű nyilatkozatát
nagyon üdvös volna kiragasztani bizonyos hivatalokban, amelyek
szervezete annyira hiányos volt a háború alatt: «Az élelmiszereknek
nincs szükségük diktaturára, hanem csak okos igazgatásra. Persze
én a magam részéről ezt az igazgatást nem drákói rendeletekben és
önkényes inkviziciókban látom, hanem az érdekelt három nagy
csoport: a termelők, elosztók és fogyasztók harmonikus
megegyezésében és értelmes összműködésében. Tanácsadóimat
kizárólag ebből a három csoportból fogom választani, nem pedig az
elméleti emberek és a bürokraták közül.» Mily óriás szakadék tátong
a mi kormányzóink és a nyilatkozatot tévő értelmi állapota közt!
Oroszország kisérleti úton győződhetett meg arról, hogy egy
nagy birodalomnak még csak közepes szervezését is mily hosszú
idő alatt lehet megalapozni, s hogy azt nem lehet máról-holnapra
rögtönözni. Mert ez a szervezet csak akkor értékes, ha már
megrögződött a lelkekben.
A szervezés túlsága nem mindig látszik üdvösnek a haladás
tekintetében. Khina aggályosan pontos szervezete minden
kezdeményezés megbénítására s a nyavalyás állapotnak olyan
fokára vezetett, hogy nem tud belőle fölépülni.
A szám megadhatja a tekintélyt, de nem az illetékességet, a
rátermettséget.
Az iparnak egyebek közt az biztosít nagy fölényt a közigazgatás
fölött, hogy a rátermettség ott nagyobb szerepre tesz szert, mint a
ranglétra s különösen a protekció.
A tekintély nélkül való illetékesség ép oly tehetetlen, mint az
illetékesség nélkül való tekintély.
A rátermettség hatástalan marad, ha rá nem termettség
parancsszavának kell engedelmeskednie.

7. A társadalmi cohaesio és a szolidaritás.

A fegyverek maguk nem alapíthatják meg a népek hatalmát. Az

mindenekfölött a lelki cohaesion alapszik, amelyet megteremtenek a
közös érzelmek, a közös érdekek, a közös hitel. Valamíg ezeket az
elemeket nem teszi állandókká az átöröklés, addig a nemzetlét
mulékony lesz és ki lesz szolgáltatva minden vakesetnek.
 Bár láthatatlan: a társadalmi rend befolyása roppant súllyal
nehezedik mindennapi életünkre. Sokkal erősebben irányítja
gondolatainkat és tetteinket, mint okoskodásaink.
A társadalmat tagjai érdekeinek egyensúlya tartja fenn. Ha ez az
egyensúly megbillen, a mohó vágyak és gyűlöletek, amelyeket
eladdig a lassan fölépült társadalmi gátak tartottak mederben,
szabadon kiáradnak és csaponganak. Ilyenkor a hatalom
szüntelenül kézről-kézre jár és az anarchia addig a napig tart,
valamíg a közóhajtás egy erős tekintélyt nem követel, amely képes
helyreállítani a rendet.
Valamely népnél faji közösség híjján is a közös vallásos, politikai
vagy társadalmi eszménybe vetett hit meg bírja teremteni a
gondolatok és magatartás azonosságát, amely fennmaradásához
szükséges.
A politikai pártok egyetértése elengedhetetlen kelléke annak,
hogy valamely ország ellenségeivel megküzdhessen. Ha a civódás,
amely minket a bukás szélére vezetett, a háború után újraéledne,
Franciaország gyógyíthatatlan dekadencia veszedelmében forogna.
Nem lenne hiábavaló a parlamentek falára vésett fölirattal arra
emlékeztetni, hogy a népek, amelyek – mint hajdan a görögök és
később a lengyelek – nem bírtak lemondani belső
viszálykodásaikról, végül szolgaságba sülyedtek és megszünt a
joguk a történelmi létre.
Ha egy politikai párt csakugyan arra törekednék, hogy hasznossá
tegye magát, vállalnia kellene annak a bizonyítását a tömegek előtt,
mily üdvös, ha az osztályok fuziója váltja föl versengéseiket. S ha
olyan régen hiába próbálták meg ezt a fuziót, talán lehetségessé
válik a társulás hasznának gyakorlati bemutatása révén.
A különböző társadalmi osztályok közti személytelen és hideg
viszonyt a lövészárokban eltöltött közös élet bizonyára benső
viszonnyal s merevség nélkül való fegyelemmel fogja majd
helyettesíteni. Ha az emberek megismerik egymást, hamarosan
rájönnek, hogy sok pontban megegyeznek és könyvekből eredő
nézeteltéréseiknek nincs jelentőségük.
A hosszantartó háború során fölidézett közös lelkiizgalmak
közelebb hozzák az embereket s olyan szolidaritást teremtenek meg
köztük, amely képes túlélni ezeknek az izgalmaknak eltüntét is.
A népek, amelyeknek összetartását a háború nem kovácsolja
össze végképpen, a katonai harcok után biztosan következni látják
majd a szocialis, gazdasági és még egyébfajta harcokat.
Az érdeken nyugvó szolidaritásnak szilárd az alapja. Ellenben a
testvériségre vagy kegyességre alapított épület mindenkor ingatag.
Elsősorban hasonló érdekű csoportoknak köszönheti Németország
gazdasági haladását.
Az üdvös társadalmi átalakulások nem a mostan uralkodó
szocialista elméletekből fognak eredni, hanem a dogma nélküli
szolidaritásból, amely különösen azzal fog foglalkozni, hogy
mindenki létét javítsa az új szükségletekhez jobban alkalmazkodó
nevelés s a társulás különböző szervezetei révén.
Ha ez a jelszó «szolidaritás» helyére tudna lépni a
«szocializmus»-nak, nagy haladás valósulna meg, mivelhogy a
jelszavaknak rendesen sokkal nagyobb a hatalmuk, mint az
elméleteknek.
Hiábavaló a népeknek azt szavalni, hogy testvérek, mikor
mindegyikük bölcsen tudja, hogy ez nem igaz. Még hiábavalóbb
osztályharcra buzdítani őket, mert ez kölcsönös romlás kútforrása.
Ehelyett egyszerűen azt kell bebizonyítani, hogy érdekük egymást
segíteni az erők összetevése által.

8. A forradalmak és az anarchia.

A legsúlyosabb forradalmak az erkölcsök és gondolatok

forradalmai.
 A forradalmak közt talán a legmélyebb az volt, amidőn Anglia
évszázados hagyományaival ellentétben a háború alatt hozzájárult
ahhoz, hogy minden hatalmat áttegyenek az állam kezébe s feltétlen
jogot adott neki a polgárok élete és vagyona fölött. Az egész
nemzetnek ez a felforgatása rendetlenség nélkül ment végbe, mert
minden párt közremunkált benne és nem csupán egynek műve volt,
mint az előbbiek.
Fölidézni a forradalmat mindig könnyű, de bajos tartóssá tenni.
Egy kényurat letaszítani trónjáról még korántsem annyi, mint az
önkényuralmat elnyomni. Mert valójában ezer meg ezer felelőtlen
alkényúr, akire szüksége van egy ország igazgatásának, tovább
bitorolja a hatalmat. Az uralom neve változhat, de ők maradnak a
tényleges urak.
Egy máról-holnapra való forradalom csak arra jó, hogy új önkényt
tegyen a régi helyére.
A társadalmi korlátok, amelyeket a forradalmak ledöntenek,
előbb-utóbb újra feltámadnak, – mert a népek nem tudnak fennállani
az ő elhatároló hatalmuk nélkül, – de rendesen nem ugyanazon a
helyen támadnak fel.
Sokszor egy nép könnyebben bírja elviselni bajait, mint az
orvosszereket, amelyekkel gyógyítani akarják.
Ellenkező érdekű osztályokra oszló országokban a forradalom
békésen mehet végbe, de nagy ritkán marad sokáig békés.
Ha a forradalom egyszer megindult, nem kormányozható többé
nagyobb mértékben, mint a lavina zuhanása közben.
A szellemi ragály a forradalmak terjesztésének legbiztosabb
tényezője.
A forradalmi gyülekezeteket fenyegető legnagyobb veszély nem
a reakció, amely jobbján fölüti a fejét, hanem a túllicitálás, amely
balján támad.
 A tömegek által véghezvitt forradalom csak azt az irányt veszi,
mint ennek a tömegnek izgékony és rendetlen ösztönei. Az ilyen
mozgalmaknak nagy az erejük, de nem tartanak soká és
végzetszerűen anarchiára vezetnek.
Az orosz forradalmárok elfelejtették Napoleon szavát: az
anarchia mindig az abszolut hatalomra vezet.
A kezdődő forradalmak az illuziók és túlkövetelések légkörében
mozognak, amelyek társadalmi rendetlenségből erednek és
ahonnan végül a restaurációk kelnek életre.
A forradalmak okai közt szerepel az, hogy mindenki elveszti a
hitet a hajdani eszmék értéke iránt, amelyek a társadalmi életet
azelőtt vezérelték. Az ebből eredő anarchia ilyenkor olyan új
igazságok nyugtalan keresése, amelyek képesek legyenek a népet
irányítani.
A nélkülözhetetlen szerep, amelyre a társadalomban a fegyelem
és cohæsio hivatva van, a legvilágosabban akkor tünik ki, amidőn a
forradalom diadala alatt a társadalmi kötelékek fölbomlottak és
mindenki szabadon követi ösztöneit.
A forradalmi eseményeket megitélő történetírók gyakran olyan
okoknak tudják be azokat, amelyek egészen távol esnek valódi
eredetüktől. Amikor, az orosz forradalom kezdetén, a katonák
odahagyták lövészárkaikat, ezt nem tették nekik fölfoghatatlan
eszmék nevében, hanem egyszerűen azért, hogy kivegyék részüket
a szocialistáktól beigért földosztásból.
Az orosz forradalom egyik legborzasztóbb eredménye az volt,
hogy a szocialis összetartás lerombolása által azt a sokmilliós
hadsereget, amely az előző este még egészen harcképes volt,
átalakították egy léleknélküli csordává, amely a legkisebb támadásra
is szétfutott.
A belső ellenségek a nemzetet tehetetlenné teszik a külső
ellenséggel szemben.
 Némely forradalom, mint az orosz, néhány hónap alatt lerontja a
szerveződésnek százados erőfeszítések révén megvalósított művét.
A tisztánlátás ritka a forradalmároknál. Az oroszok például első
diadalaik után három, az ország jövőjére egyaránt végzetes célt
követtek: 1. a rögtöni békét, következéskép a szövetségesek
elhagyását, akik a háborúba őérettük bocsátkoztak, 2. a földosztás
igéretét, amely területük minden pontján állandó harcot fog fölidézni,
3. Oroszország különböző nemzetiségeinek szétválasztását, ami a
roppant birodalom szétrombolását vonja majd maga után.
Miután levált Ukrajna, ez a harmincmilliós, igen termékeny és
igen gazdag, nagy tartomány, levált Litvánia: Oroszország még
mindig a legnagyobb birodalom marad, de egyszersmind a
legszegényebb, s amelyet örökösen harcoló ellenséges tartományok
fognak környezni.
Az orosz forradalom a kemény uralom helyére egyszerűen egy
még keményebbet tett. Újból megmutatta, hogy a népeknek olyan a
kormányuk, aminőt megérdemelnek.
Semmiféle analógiát nem lehet vonni a francia forradalom és az
orosz forradalom közt. Az elsőt tanult polgárok csinálták, a
másodikat tudatlan munkások és parasztok, akiknek színvonala alig
volt magasabb az ősi skythákénál.
Az orosz munkások többsége számára a forradalom ezt jelenti:
senkisem parancsol, mindenki azt teszi, amit akar.
Míg Németországban az eszmék ugyanazok maradnak, Európát
gyakori háborúk fogják fenyegetni. A németek azonban egy szép
nap maguk is rájönnek arra, mily mesterséges építmény ez a német
birodalom, amely az ipari államot megfejeli egy hűbéri állammal.
Ebből szükségképen az eszmék forradalma támad, amelyek
mindenkori szülői a mély politikai forradalmaknak.
Ámbár a nagy forradalmakat könnyen meg szokták jósolni, aligha
van példa arra, hogy legfontosabb következményeit megsejtették
volna.