After nine enlightening, yet exhausting months of pregnancy for the second time, I have successfully returned to my platforms of social media. I am thankful to have made it through and I birthed an extremely beautiful son by scheduled c-section that I’ve fallen in love with at first sight. We gave him his father’s name of Corey Alan Thompson Jr. and continue to be proud and mesmerized at his arrival and his perfect health. He’s a great baby that rarely cries, isn’t unnecessarily fussy, and gazes into my eyes constantly with his beautiful dark browns. To make this short…I am sickeningly happy and the blessings of having a new addition to our family is joyfully overwhelming. I reflect on being ridiculously nervous, and it wasn’t because I’d be going through the dreaded pregnancy process (which I don’t enjoy); nor was it because I’d be birthing a son into a world where Black boys are looked at as a threat. Those thoughts were merely the tips of my icebergs. I remember asking my mother the question how did she really share her love between my brother and I. We’re almost four years apart and she often describes me as “the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen”. She also said she had the same thoughts after discovering she was pregnant again, but that it just all…happened. It’s been Harmony Grace and me for what seems like the longest four years. Everything has been about her finally making me a mother and an overall more responsible individual following years of “going with the flow”. I have reached into the depths of my love for her, dedicating and naming my nonprofit after her and even having a children’s book about her in the making. She has received every ounce of my attention and my affection and I considered her my world for so long that I seriously had thoughts in the back of my head.
How in the world could I love another child as much as I love HER??
My mother me gave the response many mothers would provide and described it as something naturally maternal, but the thing is that I’ve never considered myself maternal at all. When I discovered Harmony was coming at the age of twenty-nine, there was the anxiety of wondering exactly what type of mother I would be to her. Would I be any good at it? What if I hate it? I really don’t even like children to be honest. They were all true questions and statements, and I was known as that single person at gatherings who held babies out at arms length whenever I was handed one. They felt my vibe so much (or lack thereof) that they instantly started wailing on me. I never got along with a baby or child. So imagine my amazement years later, the fact that I would be a mother of not just one…but TWO beautiful children. It seemed like I was just getting used to having just one and finally getting into the groove of motherhood. Now I’m getting into the swing of having a tiny two week old baby boy that needs constant attention juggled with the demands, attitude, and bratty independence of a four year old girl heading to preschool this August. It all brings me to tears with the realization that I’m not even that same selfish and careless twenty-something year old any longer. I really sat here contemplating how to equally distribute my love between two children from my womb, not to mention mentally preparing for “the baby blues” or postpartum depression. What if I don’t automatically take to him at first sight? What if I’m so stuck on Harmony I don’t seem to want to hold him or interact with him as much? My worst mistake was reading about other pregnant mom’s woes and situations on an app called What to Expect, which effectively tracks your baby’s growth and allows you to interact with expecting moms due around the same time. Several moms that went into labor a week or two before I did expressed being “unemotional” toward their babies and “not feeling anything” for them during first week or so. It was a frightening experience reading about them not even wanting to hold their baby or barely look at them because they had no exciting feelings about it. This is a typical situation for numerous moms, but I could never imagine not welcoming my son into the world because he didn’t give me any emotion after carrying him for nine months. I could never imagine him becoming more attached to his father because I want nothing to do with feeding him, giving him baths, or even playing with him. Yet, those same moms and their posts provided me with an awareness causing me to pray about it…A LOT.
It’s like I felt as if I might birth a complete stranger…
Strangers make me uncomfortable, but what happened was exactly what I was told would occur…it became so natural for me and I’m not only comfortable with being a second time mom, I’m much better for it. My heart literally overflows when I look at them both and I couldn’t imagine life without either of them. Seeing them interact together is something that I could sit and watch all day. The length of their time with me on this earth isn’t a factor, neither is their gender, or how they were conceived/birthed, nor by whom. I love them both to death and would do anything and everything for them. This makes me realize the true meaning of motherhood and raising children only the best way that I can. Fear and nervousness for them has been the most obvious sign of giving a shit for someone like me. I’d rather have some type of emotion than to have none at all. I may not be considered the greatest or even a traditional mom, but what can we truly consider “traditional”? What defines a “good mom”? I may be the tattooed, dark liquor drinking, party loving, piercings everywhere, marijuana supporting mom that most would look down upon when it comes to raising children. We as moms make mistake DAILY, and a good mom to me is one whose children consistently have smiles plastered on their faces. A good mom puts her children above all of her selfish desires first while still being happy enough to make time for herself, because she knows self care is also necessary for their happiness. This journey has been a wild ride and one of self wisdom, because I now know who I am and the type of mom I strive to be, one that loves both of her kids with all of her heart and soul.
I breathed in the cool air as I looked on towards the horizon. Fisherman with tight dark skin and strong muscular arms tossed their nets and pole lines into Yawri Bay and talked back and forth to each other in Krio. Their skin glistened beneath the bright sun and I sat not too far away in dark shades and a black wide brimmed hat, adorning a simple sundress like I was a tourist with no specific purpose or destination. My brown hair lay in soft natural curls that I often twirled through my fingers when thinking. At this moment a lot of things were on my mind. I admired the fisherman and their strong physiques, remembering I had not had sex in more than five years or less. Memories of Will flooded my mind and I could feel every emotion now that I was in a calm location and able to sit down and think about all that had transpired in just the last 48 hours.
I sat up and looked straight ahead when a random Black guy came and sat down on the bench facing the other direction. I could see him through my peripheral and that he was wearing a dark suit, dark shades and had jet black hair cut into a fade. He was out of place in this location and in this weather and I wondered how many buckets of sweat he’d created just walking over here. One thing was for certain, he smelled good as hell!
He cleared his throat and continued to look ahead.
“Should I call you Doctor Hartley or Justice Young? I’m sure it’s changed once again…”
I froze and never said a word, maintaining my composure as I let him continue in his low baritone voice.
“You are quite to hard find when no one is really looking for you…but for a billion dollars…I certainly found you…again.”
“Well that’s because you know me by now…and how much I love water.”
Vince Cray had to be the only guy that could track me down and always came with the bullshit as if I cared that I was wanted and my head was worth a fortune…alive. He didn’t know whether he wanted to turn me in or remain fascinated by my skill and talented ability to stay out of sight and out of range for years at a time, because the crazy part was that for some reason he was the world’s top assassin and he had not killed me yet, nor had he told anyone where I was for the reward.
“It wasn’t that easy this time, you know. You’re getting better at hiding your scent.”
“Is there something in particular that you wanted to talk to me about?” I asked through gritted teeth while still smiling like everything was all good. This is always the worst part about being on the run, never knowing just how long you could be at some type of peace before someone came and crashed the entire foundation down. The one that I ever think is strong enough to completely shut everyone out. There was too much technology, too many cameras, and nerdy ass experts bored enough (some even rich enough) to hunt me down.
Then there was this guy! I can’t even put a label on him and he’s just really an absolute pain in my ass.. I couldn’t just kill him in the open and blow my cover and he never came around to kill me. It’s was as if he honestly just shows up to let me know that he’s watching me and that he had the authority to do whatever he saw fit with the most wanted target on the planet. A big ass cat toying with a mouse someone pumped with steroids. I knew at this point, he adored our little game and it’s what he lived for! So, therefore…how could he ever live without me? So trust I was never afraid, just irritated.
“Aren’t you just going to do it this time?” I glared at him, turning my full attention toward his solid physique. I found myself licking my lips when my gaze moved down the glisten of his strong dark neck. I watched the vessels move in and out, up and down as he breathed slowly and contemplated his response to my statement. His heart rate was heightening sitting near me and I wondered if he knew that he often did the same to me.
“I could have killed you an hour ago.” He stated it with no emotion, continuing to look on toward the water beyond the horizon.
“And yet…HERE I AM!” I practically shouted loud enough for the fisherman to look up and avert their attention our way. This was on purpose and I could see the perplexed look in his face at the risk I’d just taken. Something in me was amused and I could feel the goosebumps on my skin from being so anxious about what he would do about it…
With a shake of his head and a chuckle he tossed an index card and small envelope my way, rose from the bench, and walked away in the opposite direction that he’d come without another word. I waited at least five minutes before picking it up from the bench beside me and unfolding it’s contents. My face twisted into fear and shock as I read the words and eyed the photos that dropped into my lap, but I kept my composure and folded all of the documents before pulling a lighter from my pocket, setting it all on fire, and dropping it into the waste bin nearby, I could barely catch my breath and hyperventilated as I took a brisk walk around the bay before boarding the nearby luxury cruise liner I’d been waiting for the entire time. I stumbled near the docks and clutched my chest in an attempt to steady my breathing and relax before boarding a ship to take a cruise sailing around the coast of Africa for nearly two weeks.
The ship would take many tourist stops in other locations, but the only thing that concerned me was that it would make it’s final stop in Australia. That was my next destination and what was better than being “down under”? I figured that nobody could track me there but I was wrong before I could even know what being even a little right felt like. I boarded the ship with no luggage, no life, a fake I.D. and my dignity. My large shades hid my face, along with the scarf wrapped around my head like I’d stepped out of the 60’s. I awkwardly greeted everyone who came my way with a shy smile and head nod as I finally found my way to a beautiful and spacious suite with a large balcony that overlooked the entire ocean.
I exhaled and thought out my next move to become invisible again, but one thing was certain…Vince was going to always be my problem until I found a way to fix it. I cringed as I thought about the photos of Will that Vince obviously retrieved by making his way into my home after The Survs got to him. It was disturbing how close he’d gotten to Will’s deadened facial expression and limp body. He was tied to the chair the same way I’d left him, except with his head blown wide open.
I suddenly rushed to the bathroom when I felt the chunks of vomit rise in my throat. I’d endured seeing many things at this point, but seeing the man I loved and nearly married mutilated like that was something no one could ever prepare themselves for. I was really planning to spend the rest of my life with him and now he was only a memory and had gotten caught up because of the pain he felt from me suddenly leaving him and attempting to help the wrong people find me.
I wiped my mouth in exhaustion and let my head rest on my arm over the toilet after flushing down my small lunch of mango and melon from earlier. What in the hell was I supposed to do now? It was as if so many pieces of my life were being exposed and eliminated all for this damn chip! I rinsed my mouth and splashed my face with the cool water cupped in my hands from the faucet. I wanted to cry when I looked at myself in the vanity mirror above the sink. I looked drained and like I lived the life of a person on the run from EVERYTHING. There was nothing relaxed about me and every move I made was frantic, frigid, unplanned, and life threatening at this point.
I was becoming sloppy and desperate to just be out of everyone’s way that I didn’t realize I was only putting myself in more harms way.
I needed a long hot bath, food. and sleep just to make it through the next thought in my head. I never even made it to the food I ordered and when I sat on the bed, before I knew it my body slumped over into a deep and unexpected sleep that went on through the whole night and late into the next day.
I outstretched my arms and let out a long yawn before opening my eyes and emerging from beneath the thick white comforter to invite the sun into my cabin and onto my refreshed and freckled caramel face. I felt as if I’d gotten the best sleep ever with my natural messy curls all over my head like a lion. I smiled from ear to ear before turning over and shrieking in fright when I met the face of Vince sitting up in the recliner chair across the room. His hands were clasped and legs were folded like he’d made some observational notes about my sleep process like he was some type of physician.
“How long have you been sitting there??” I asked in astonishment. I brought the white sheets up to my chest and covered my breasts although I was still wearing my bra.
“Long enough to know that your dreams are going to haunt you the rest of your life.” He never cracked a smile or took his gaze from mine and slowly rose from the chair. I scrambled backwards towards the headboard and eyed his every move as he slowly walked over to me.
His tailored gray suit never moved an inch and was ironed so crisply I wanted to inquire about his dry cleaning.
“Get out of my room.” I bravely stated before I knew it. He looked at me as if I’d lost my mind and before I knew what was happening I was grabbed up by my throat in one swift motion and thrown against the headboard like a rag doll. I winced in pain and heard a ringing in my ears, then I realized he was standing over me with my neck still in one large hand…slowly pressing down my airway bit by bit and staring into my eyes so deeply while taking large grunting breaths that I thought my soul might have been stolen by his. Desperation entered my eyes and the room began to fade. I began flailing my arms and legs in an attempt to fight for my life and I realized I had only seconds until unconsciousness. I didn’t come this far to lose my life now…on a damn cruise liner.
“You know, I do believe I am the only thing keeping you from living this little relaxing runaway life you decided to live after becoming a terrorist and a traitor to your own country. You’re wanted everywhere and there were SO MANY times I could have taken your life and gotten it over with, but if I didn’t have you to track down, what else would I do with my life?” He casually shrugged like I was the only thing keeping him from being bored with everything about his life.
I was right.
My chest tightened and I could feel my oxygen being cut off as I thrashed and scratched at his arms, drawing small streaks of blood. He never moved a muscle. He suddenly let go of my neck in one motion and pushed me back on the bed. I rolled over and violently coughed, sucking in air and desperately gaining my composure while he watched me in a strange way. I scrambled away from him until I was backed against the headboard holding my neck with both hands and fear in my eyes for the first time in a long time.
I saw concern for a brief moment before his face turned to stone again. Emotionless. Numb.
“Look I’m sorry. I just wanted you to know…”
My eyes widened at his sudden empathy and my face grew heated with anger. I felt as if my cheeks were crimson red and certainly knew my neck was.
“What the fuck?! You wanted me to know what? You’re a fucking psycho?” I practically screamed at the top of my lungs now that I could breathe and speak normally again.
“First of all…lower your voice. Second…you’re the only assignment I’ve never killed.”
I looked up at him in confusion and shook my head.
He stood at the end of the bed now, pacing back and forth.
“You’re crazy and you just almost did kill me and since you didn’t…you need to leave.” I stated sternly in a low tone while pointing at the door.
“You’re a doctor, you know good and well the point you were about to lose consciousness and die. Low and behold…you’re still here.”
He straightened his suit jacket and grunted in sarcasm but he slowly made his way to the door before suddenly stopping.
He turned around in deep thought and walked to the bed like he had something else to say but never let a word escape his lips.
I looked at him as he slowly removed his jacket and eased up on me until he was only inches away from my face. He smells so damn good. He took in my hair and the features on my face like he was observing every detail…taking mental photos of each freckle, mole, and blemish. My breathing grew hollow and more noticeable as my breasts rose up and down in a rhythmic motion that made him roughly grab one with his right hand then touch on my pussy with the other.
I didn’t fight back or tell him to go, my body grew weak and excited at the same time and a deep moan escaped my lips immediately. I came in less than two minutes when he brought his hand to my neck again, this time only gently squeezing the sides…making my blood flow. He began caressing my clitoris in circles to the ultimate climax when he stared into my eyes and demanded me to come on his fingers and “let it all out”. I was getting so turned on I was ready! I gyrated on his hand and grabbed for his hard dick, which look promisingly thick and long through his pants; but as soon as I did, he strangely stopped everything out of nowhere, grabbed his jacket and rose from the bed.
I still sat back gasping and getting the sheets wet, leaking and wondering where the hell he was going. His dark eyes lowered when he looked at me and flicked the largest tongue I’d ever seen across my juices that were dripping from his fingers before walking out.
I nearly came again in that moment as I rushed to the bathroom to take a long shower.
What the hell was that??
I was at a loss for words as I touched on my body and thought of his tongue wrapping around his large fingers. That devious and dark “fuck me look” he gave me made it no better.
This was new. This sexual game we started was unexpected and I was questioning the entire situation now. He could have planned it all along to throw me off and turn me in once he fucked me into exhaustion. I shook my head in the shower, scolding myself for being so dumb and naïve.
“Get it together woman! We have a mission to complete.”
I then began trying to tame the tingles down my spine with my fingers…masturbating until I fell back to sleep with thoughts of what transpired in my mind.
“African-Americans currently populate 60% of Montgomery, Alabama, the heart of the civil rights movement. 28.5% own their own business and more than 85% are living in poverty…something is missing.”
When riding around through the city of Montgomery I would like you to notice something. Whether it’s dining, nightlife, or shopping, take a moment to look around and to reflect on how much Black culture that you see and hear of daily, maybe even weekly. The type you don’t have to search for, hear about from another Black person, or go on a specific Facebook page to find information surrounding it. How many businesses can you think of that are easily accessible and well known if you choose to shop at a Black owned business on a whim for something as simple as groceries? If we, as African-Americans chose to go on strike and shop ONLY BLACK in our city…how effective do you believe it would be? Keeping in mind that it would mean, protesting all that is not Black owned or created, which would mean transportation, food, attire, and even down to the importance of your cell phone. We would be homeless, without a car, and without many basic necessities we depend on, but are distributed only through White businesses.
I believe it to be a redundant contradiction that we choose to live in a city where change and the freedom to be great as an African-American should be the most embraced, but appears to be practically nonexistent. The culture and the determination should be loud and saturate the streets of Montgomery, not only for it’s citizens, but for those who visit a location known for it’s deep history in the Black culture. Instead we battle the uncontrollable plight of gentrification when it comes to housing and the placement of Black businesses in the region.
The impact of revenue generated when we “Buy Black” would not only help build a city that deserves to be truly recognized for Black culture and business, but one that possesses the majority of that culture. The answers have been in front of us for decades and continue to remain apparent when it comes to supporting our own, it just isn’t being done.
The worst observation I’ve come to notice since moving to Montgomery is the abundance of complaints, sabotage, and crime against one another pitted against the lack of knowledge, support and humility we have given each other to succeed as a team. I am ready to stop the constant jealousy and hate we have toward each other that has only ruined blessings and opportunities we need to create. When one of us achieves success in owning a steady flowing business, it’s always disappointing to ask that in individual how they created that path, what steps they took, and what they plan to do with those steps to create a foundation of anything. We rarely give the real answers which could help our people become equally or more successful than we are and instead have been selfishly basking in that information without spreading it to others. This will always be our downfall.
There has been a constant struggle within us when it comes to providing genuine support. As an author, I have received questions surrounding discounts for my books and even receiving a book completely free…only from Black people…MY people. Being completely unaware of how much sweat, tears, and sleepless nights go into chasing your dreams is one thing; but to look one of your own people in the face in an attempt to low ball their ability to carryout that mission is an insult. It is what I would like to focus my attention on eliminating in 2020.
My vision is to highlight and promote each Black owned business, beginning with the city of Montgomery, and then journeying to other Civil Rights locations in Alabama; such as Selma, Tuskegee, and Huntsville. Reputable Black owned businesses have been serving our community for as many as 10-20 years, operating mainly under regular clientele and word of mouth. What if we could boost their reputations by not only spreading the word to those who may not have experienced their services before, but also ensure anyone who visits and tours the city of Montgomery has more access to them and their information?
The truth is that I discovered the longest running businesses are owned by those we would see as our grandparents, middle-aged aunts and uncles, and what I also call “social media apethists”. They have absolutely no interest in social media and barely know where to start when it comes to using it as a tool for promotion of their business to the masses. They sometimes simply don’t feel they need it, and most of the time they don’t; but what about those that do? Magazines such as Gump Town Magazine and In City Mag are great literary sources in Montgomery, AL that provide information on many Black owned business in the area, including those in Prattville, Wetumpa, and Millbrook. There are Facebook pages, websites, and flyers, but it’s 2020 and we deserve an app that truly celebrates us by highlighting the experience that was gained when visiting their establishment. Several years ago there were articles that ranked Montgomery, AL as number two for having the most Black owned businesses in the nation. If we still hold the title, why do things seem a little too silent around here?
The apps surrounding Black owned businesses and accessing their information, including finding their locations have already been released and become successful in helping “Buy Black” but I find it to a certain extent. Once a business is logged into the app, it even incorporates GPS to assist in directing you to a Black owned business, as well as giving a notification when it’s nearby. Black owned businesses are at your fingertips and categorized by their fields and specialties on several free downloadable apps, such Official Black Wall Street, WeBuyBlack.com, and Afroworld.
So, I decided to give them a try and see just how many businesses would pop up in Montgomery, Alabama; since categories such as hair, MUA, lawn and maintenance, and restaurants are included. Each search result produced “NO RESULTS” for Montgomery and in order for Black owned businesses to be included, they would have to visit the website themselves and enter their information to be featured. There is a $50 one time fee to join and enter your business, which seems fair for the upkeep and cost to run the app while helping promote businesses. The website WeBuyBlack is actually for those who would like to earn revenue in selling Black owned products. For $30 it helps you set up a vendor account and earn commission with your own online store selling specific products where 10% is earned by WeBuyBlack and 90% is given to the seller. Not bad.
I’m all for sites promoting Black owned businesses, but this year what I would like to put my primary focus and energy into specifically is the promotion and awareness of Black owned business in the city of Montgomery and how we can become better in creating more revenue in our communities to help eliminate poverty and provide better support for our neighborhoods and our schools. Through my non-profit Harmonious Grace, Inc, I would like to start with creating a website and a book that is similar to a “Green Book”. A Green Book, also known as The Negro Motorist Green Book, like the movie, it was a written record of business that are Black owned or Black “friendly” during the time of Jim Crow laws and segregation. Although we are no longer battling segregation or Jim Crow, we still battle the silence of how amazing doing business with African-Americans can feel! I would like to create a website and eventually an app that provides information and locations about reputable Black owned business in Montgomery, the difference being that I will personally interview each business, enter their information and ensure that most if not all reputable Black owned businesses operating in Montgomery are featured. These businesses should be easily accessible and found on ANY website promoting Black owned business and revenue without having to do all of the work they are unaware they need to do in the first place.
We are a city who’s streets bear the struggle and the fight for us to be treated equal, vote, and even receive the right to sit and eat where we please as human beings. Black History Month is slowly approaching and I’m sure there will be the dozens of programs promoting positive Black history, parades, business expos, and future plans for African-Americans to have a better presence in Montgomery. I’d like to be one of those not only speaking of change, but making that change happen for the better. My journey will begin with touring the city of Montgomery during the next several months to interview Black owned businesses about their history, the reason they started, how long they’ve been in business and what their plans are for the future. This information will then be compiled to a website focusing on Montgomery and generating more revenue where it should be, in the Black Community. Following my project, I am will be working hard to ensure all businesses will be accessible through an app that is free to download and directs all tourist and residents to Black owned businesses throughout the city. There are entirely too many that are not included on websites or highlighted by social media.
If you know of any Black owned businesses that have provided great services or products to your life and deserve to be feature, please send them to my direct email at firstname.lastname@example.org or comment directly beneath this post. I plan to interview each business, no matter the location in Montgomery or the service! Thank you for your help and your continued support for all that I strive to do! It’s now time that we strive together.
The President of the United States stood there irritated and lost in thought as, Louis Thorington, the head of “The Survs” stood in the center of The Oval Office and reported back to him the news about Dr. Hartley that he did not expect. He stared out of the window and listened intently without response.
“She’s uh…she’s escaped and disappeared off the grid again sir. Last location was in Rome, Italy until she killed two of our officers and escaped through a hotel window. We are working hard to track her location and send more officers to bring her back…um Mr. President.” Thorington cleared his throat. He stood there in a gray expensive tailored suit, simply dressed with no watch or jewelry and appearing well put together; but his graying dirty blonde hair glistened with sweat and his pale manicured hands were moist as he hid them behind his back and firmly planted his feet. He held a mousy type of appearance that wasn’t as intimidating as it should be for the leader of a group called The Survs that hunt down potential terrorist threats, but his brawn wasn’t why he was chosen. Louis Thorington was one the main creators and programmers of The Surveill-Eye 3000, the reason this was all a success. Thorington had been a brain surgeon and heard the ideas thrown out about a small chip being inserted somewhere into the body in order to control the nation. It began as a mere idea and a dream, then changed into a reality the day Thorington walked into The White House to finally present The Surveill-Eye 3000 after tirelessly crafting it for ten years.
He stood in front of everyone at the White House during a televised press conference about his new invention and the plans to carry it out and complete everyone’s insertion that following year.
“Not only will The Surveill-Eye 3000 keep track of finances, income, and background information, but through the brain sensor, this chip will also possess the ability to detect emotions motivating rage! With this chip we will be able to better eliminate terrorist acts and school shootings by actually seeing the premeditated emotions leading to homicides. Crime rate will be practically non-existent when we involve a special team dedicated to tracking and detaining citizens with these types of issues.”
A Hispanic woman that happened to be a House Representative slowly raised her hand. Thorington pointed to her with a smirk after his statements, knowing that this would raise a lot of skepticism and even rejection, but he was fully prepared to back up and discuss all of his research.
“Isn’t this a little too far? Tapping into the emotions you assume one may have may not necessarily lead to murder or the shooting of an entire building. What if it’s…grief? Or just anger because of the loss of a job? This doesn’t always lead to greater issues and sometimes it has to do with the way someone is mentally able to handle their problem. Seems to me as if you’re saying anyone that gets too emotionally charged would be at risk of a team of strangers coming to their home and detaining them until…what? They calm down? Or a certain amount of assigned prison time? Time out?” She cocked her head as the audience around her chuckled.
Thorington grinned. “Great question, but I do believe you’re looking at it from the wrong point of view. This will allow us to be more safe and not look up at the news to see twenty or more people dead because of a deadly mass shooting. We will tackle the issues once we actually get to them and learn the extent of the emotion one is going through.”
She frowned her face in thought. “So how is that not an inconvenience? Or against someone’s natural rights? You’re not only invading someones brain, emotions, thoughts, and well being, but their entire life as they know it just because they became a little upset. What are we twelve? We’re being indefinitely for detained just for how we feel??”
The rest of the room began to chatter in agreement.
“Well, isn’t it better to be safe that sorry? Where has letting people have free thoughts and free range of living gotten us? Heartbroken…disappointed…devastated. You can barely even look at the news anymore without hearing about a tragedy. Aren’t we all tired of the unexpected? The unpredictable actions of these criminals are ruining lives. The first thing is that the individuals already possessing a criminal record and in the prison systems are the FIRST to get this chip with no argument about it. This will be not only their new form of probation that needs no physical officer keeping tabs, but their forced retention to never step out of line again. It’s all controlled so simply!” He raised his arms as if he’d made a grand statement.
The room’s chatter and discussions grew louder and more animated as more questions began to emerge. The head of the FBI rose to speak next.
“So this is basically eliminating jobs for those of us that had to do this type of work ourselves…isn’t that right Mr. Thorington?” He straightened his jacket in a huff.
“Not necessarily. You’ll still have a job for about three years until the switch is made and everything that you’ve already done the regular way is all controlled through a new high tech system that you will all be trained to operate once you’ve gained your new names as ‘The Survs’.” The room went up in an uproar that made Thorington walk out of the meeting with nothing more to say. Everything could not be answered in one sitting but the fact of the matter was that the president already confirmed and sealed the deal for the manufacturing and distribution of The Surveille-Eye 3000 as they spoke.
“The President shook Thorington’s hand vigorously with a smile. “This is some work you’ve done here Mr. Thorington, it’s absolutely PERFECT for my plan. America will TRULY be great again.”
Thorington beamed with pride next to his wife Nadia and two small children when he signed the 1 Billion dollar deal that changed his entire life and in less than two years the chip was inserted into citizens and running successfully in every obedient and proud American….then Dr. Hartley happened.
Louis Thorington back then was happy and carefree, feeling as if he’d done the greatest deed for his country, now he’d not slept in weeks since the manhunt for her began after she’d somehow figured out how to extract the chip without killing it’s host, freeing all Americans that now realized they no longer wanted to be controlled by the government’s heavy hand. After being known as the most smart and prestigious man in America, he now in the position of being the most hated man. He breathed deeply and faced his fate in The Oval Office as rain fell against the windows in streaks.
Finally turning to face him, the president’s face held an expression of anger as he walked toward his chair and sat down in deep thought before speaking.
“When we started this project for a greater America, I was told there would be no issues. That it is a fail safe plan and there is NO WAY it can be compromised or taken out without the person ending their own life or the lives of others and you’re telling me that this…this mere woman is outsmarting us all and removing it for money…unacceptable.” He stated through gritted teeth while bringing his tiny fist down on the desk with a thud.
Thorington cleared his throat again nervously. “With all due respect, Mr. President, she was known as one of the top surgeons in America…we can’t really underestimate her.”
He looked up in surprise, making Thorington regret his words.
“Is that right? Coming from the head of an intelligent team that I specifically picked to make this project an ultimate success?” He nodded his head in thought. Then a weird smirk came across his face.
“Alright, you’re dismissed.” He quickly stated with a wave of his hand.
Thorington shifted his weight between each leg.
“But um…I am promising you sir that we are going to find her. We will not let you down.”
He continued to write something on a pad without looking up nor responding to his words. Thorington slowly turned on his left toe anxiously and walked out of the door in silence. The president shook his head in disappointment then clicked the “TERMINATE” button on Thorington’s profile displayed on his screen. Within less than thirty seconds, a loud POP could be heard followed by shrill screaming and calls for someone to “Get help.”
With a slash of his pin he crossed out his note saying “Find replacement for position of ‘Head of Survs’ IMMEDIATELY.”