Page 47 of The Session

A rock score from a movie Mark couldn’t place played in the background.

The gigantic video wall that wrapped the interior looped footage of Mark’s rescue, interspersed with headlines and social media posts calling him a hero. A text banner scrolled across the displays: Welcome Home, Mark!!!

Mark was still overwhelmed—but he didn’t feel small.

A line of people waited to shake his hand.

He turned to Tru. “So this is how they treat family?”

Tru leaned in as he shook the first hand. “They’re meeting a hero, Mark. Being family around here only takes you so far. Trust me.”

“I hope if I’m ever in a situation like that, I have one percent of your courage,” a young man with a crew cut told him, pumping his hand.

“I’ve watched the clip twenty times since yesterday. It made me cry,” an older woman admitted, tears still in her eyes.

“Well done!” a man with a gray beard called out, patting Mark on the back.

“It runs in the family,” a woman whispered in his ear as he accepted a hug from another.

What struck Mark were the tears.

“Why are so many people crying?” he asked Tru as they made their way to the elevators.

“Heroes are in short supply right now,” she explained.

“But they’re everywhere. They’re racing into burning buildings and putting their lives on the line protecting us,” Mark argued.

“You’re here now, and you’re real. Let them enjoy it,” Tru insisted, leading him to a line of interns waiting to meet him.

They finally passed the gauntlet and reached the elevator, where Mark caught his breath. “That was something else,” he muttered.

The doors closed, but Tru didn’t press a button.

“Cult experts call it love-bombing,” she explained. “It’s when you saturate someone with so much positive emotion that they feel bonded to the group. The problem is, it gets hollow after a while, and once you’ve seen the thousandth person get the treatment, it doesn’t feel special anymore.

“That’s why we’re more strategic about it. It has to be for something everyone agrees is a genuine achievement, and the people applauding have to really be impressed. Also, it has to happen irregularly or it loses its effectiveness.”

“So I won’t have to deal with that every time I show up at work. That’s a relief. More importantly, why are you telling me all this?” Mark asked.

“That it’s a cult tactic? Apple does it for the people lined up when they launch a new iPhone. Most of corporate America has some version of it. I call it what it is so you’re aware. I also want you to know those people are sincere.” Tru held up her phone, showing his name on Google Trends. “Millions more people outside this building feel the same way right now.”

“They’ll get over it real fast,” Mark replied.

“Normally, yes. But not if we have something to say about it—and if you let us . . .”

“Let you what?”

“We’re still figuring that part out. In the meantime, we’ve got a presentation lined up where some department heads will tell you about the different sports and youth programs we have. You can see if there’s something that interests you. We also have a special project that came up last night we could use you for,” Tru added.

“Special project?”

“You’ll see. It involves a little travel. It’ll be a chance to see more of what we do,” she explained and pressed the button for a higher floor. “Just one more stop. It’ll be quick. Try not to get too annoyed.”

When Mark stepped out, a smaller group waited, including a middle-aged man in round glasses and a vest, with two assistants flanking him.

“Perfect!” he exclaimed in a British accent the moment he saw Mark. “Matthew McConaughey Middle America with a dash of 1990s Matt Damon.”

He gestured, and the assistants began taking Mark’s measurements and snapping photographs from different angles.