Falling

Ramon was in his hotel bed.
     His phone rang; he slowly brought it to his ear.
     "Hey Percy."
     "Are you still languishing in bed?"
     Ramon grunted and stood up.
     "No." He said while stretching.
     It had been a week since Ramon had found the Arai family and confronted them about their son being a Twister. In that time, he had done nothing more than eat and sleep. 
     Ramon had the phone on speaker while he brushed his teeth for the first time in three days.
     "The Japanese government contacted the T.T.F. today about what to do about the boy."
     "Were they sensible? Is the kid getting the surgery?" Ramon said before he began gargling some of his travel mouthwash.
     "No; the Japanese government has reached the conclusion that, as long as the boy is closely observed, there is no reason to have him undergo the surgery."
     Ramon spat out the mouthwash.
     "What?! Japan is supposed to be a reasonable country!" He slammed his fist on the counter next to the sink. 
     Percy didn't say anything as Ramon seethed. After a brief moment, the Twisthunter recollected himself and spoke again.
     "I'm done. I can't do this job anymore."
     "Do not say such things. You are more than capable of being a Twisthunter for at least another decade."
     Ramon walked back into the main area of his hotel room. His eyes drifted to his satchel.
     "You and I both know what's going to happen to that kid." His voice rang true with Percy.
     The sound of Percy tapping away at a computer stopped.
     "Ramon, has the thought ever crossed your mind that, perhaps, we've been operating with inaccurate or incomplete information. Suppose, for a moment, that Twist is not a wholly destructive force; if that were true, how would you and I operate?"
     Ramon was quiet. The old Twisthunter's eyes misted. He sat down on the edge of his bed.
     "Nova Scotia."
     "Ramon, you failed to answer my question."
     "Rio de Janeiro; Las Vegas; Oklahoma City; Kodiak; the list goes on, and those are only the jobs that I've had to do." Ramon shook his head. "The 'suppose' and the 'what-if' scenarios aren't important to me. What we have is the real world, and in the real world, I'm stuck shooting people because their parents are..." He forced himself to stop.
     "I understand your frustration." Percy sounded tired. "But we can't do anything more. Our policies and legal restrictions are frighteningly strict, so that either you must provide a warning or kill the Twister." Percy sounded perturbed. "I prefer to think about our situation in the following way: if we were non-existent, then these poor families and their children would never have anyone warning them about the danger their children were in, and rampaging Twisters would need to be dealt with by inexperienced civilians." 
     Ramon ran a hand through his hair and stared at the door to the hotel room.
     "You've done your best; a warning bell has been rung for the Arai family; whether or not they choose to listen to it is not something you control." Percy said calmly. 
     "It's my fault when the kid dies." 
     "Ramon, you were in life-or-death situations with all your previous jobs. You cannot fail to remember that crucial fact!"
     The Twisthunter remembered ice and snow. 
     "Not in Nova Scotia." His voice sounded empty.
     "What else would you have done? I suppose you would have strapped her down despite her propensity for immense strength and performed the Twist removal surgery on her yourself with a revolver in the other hand?" Percy sounded irritated.
     "Maybe I should have!" He snapped.
     "You would have perished and accomplished nothing. What you did saved the lives of her family, friends, and those present in the hospital with her."
     "She was only nineteen." He stared at the door to the hotel room. "I should have done more."
     The phone call stopped for several moments.
     "This conversation isn't progressing in a meaningful direction." Percy said harshly. "We may continue this discussion at a later date; for the moment, you need to return to T.T.F. headquarters and fill out your report. I've already texted you your plane tickets."
     Ramon looked at the tickets.
     "Thanks, Percy." He muttered. "I'll talk to you later."
     "Of course. I'll see you in person tomorrow."
     The hotel door loomed in front of Ramon.
     It reminded him of the door to his parent's house. 
     That door had been blasted off its hinges by a shotgun when his grandfather had raced into their house in the middle of the night. He remembered gunfire and shouting, but there weren't any corpses. There had been confusion and despair as his grandfather had hoisted Ramon over his shoulder and stormed out into the dark streets of Rio Bravo.
     His grandfather had died a criminal.
     Ramon rubbed his bald spot and felt his eyes mist again.
     Percy might have been right; perhaps he had done the right thing with Ms. Oliver in Nova Scotia. Ramon walked towards his satchel and fished his revolver out of it. He pulled out the mercury compass. It was pointing northwest. He gripped the compass tightly and slung the satchel over his shoulder.
     He stepped out of his hotel room and adjusted his poncho and hat. The woman in the hotel lobby bowed at him as he left, and he mirrored her gesture. 
     The streets of Tokyo stretched out in two directions before him.
     He looked towards the left. Those streets were busy and crowded, but they eventually turned and started going northwest towards where his compass was pointing. 
     To the right, he saw nearly empty streets. The path towards the airport and out of Tokyo would still take him a while to walk, but at the moment it would be faster than trekking through the busier part of Tokyo in the morning. 
     He looked down at the compass.
     If he walked away, no matter what the law said, he would be leaving the youngest child of the Arai family for dead. 
     A poncho fluttered in the slight breeze as Ramon followed the compass.