Finding the Path

Is there a point when a boy — 15-years-old, neglected, horrifically-abused, half-starved — is beyond saving? Jon Vornholt’s father has pimped him out on the mean streets of Detroit for a long time, and Jon has certainly come to think of himself as beyond saving — beyond saving because he’s not worth saving. Jon always feels bad and sad and gross and used, and he’s always going to feel bad and sad and gross and used. But it doesn’t really matter to Jon: he’s going to be dead soon anyway and then he doesn’t need to think or feel or care about anything..

Then, the unthinkable happens: an old couple take this stringy kid off those streets and into their home and give him a second chance at life — more like, a first. From that moment onward, everything Jon goes through in his life, tragedies and blessings, Mike and Marjorie and their ever-increasing love for this blossoming young man remain his anchor. And he needs that anchor, because, sure, the high-high blessings feel great, but the low-low tragedies rock him to his core, and Jon just doesn’t know if he has what he needs on his own to make it through those low-lows. After all, Jon doesn’t even understand what it means to be loved, not really.

Then Jon has his last decision to make, maybe the most important one of his life. But, in order to make that decision, he must first decide if it is a tragedy (is he ready to risk everything and, therefore, most likely lose it all?), or if it is a blessing (is he ready to risk everything and, maybe, just maybe, win it all and have a happy, a very happy rest of his life?). How much is Jon willing to trust that decades-long anchor to keep him grounded so he can make the right decision? And will Jon at last silence that voice he still hears from his distant childhood that tells him he’s bad and sad and gross and used? Is it little wonder the voice Jon hears in his head belongs to his father?