Dragon's Curvy Dilemma

by Mychal Daniels

  “As usual, you’re my secret weapon. Thanks. After I get Brock settled and on a routine, I’ll take him with me to meet the Mayor. We’ll do a little sightseeing too. Now,” he looked at his watch to see it was past time to leave. He’d be stuck in heavy traffic but was glad Monique had him set and ready to go. “I’m out of here. Leaving through the back-door stairwell.”

  “Good idea. Jim and Stacy already picked up Brock and are at home with him. Stacy said he’s so excited he didn’t want to eat his afternoon snack.”

  “Wow, that little guy never turns down food.”

  “I know. Get home. Everything has been packed and loaded into the Range Rover. All you have to do is drive up. And, don’t forget the kid.”

  “Haha, always with the jokes. I’ve got this. I only forgot him once. He was two. It’s been three years, let that die, please.”

  “Never,” she said, continuing to move around. “Okay, off you go. I’m right behind you. And Ash, relax and enjoy yourself. You deserve some personal time. Stretch your wings, regroup and take it easy.” As if reading his mind, she added. “Your home office up there is online, and you’re good to go. I never shut off any of the utilities or wireless connectivity. The maid service will start back up next week for the summer. And Brock’s day camp will be from June seventh through the twentieth. I signed him up for two weeks as a start. If he likes it, let the head camp counselor know, and he can go through July. Now breathe. I’ll see you two in July.”

  “I’m breathing—barely. It’s like you’re pushing me out of the nest.”

  “Hell, I am! It’s time for you to get off my tit!”

  “Fine! But, I still expect you to answer my calls. We’re still working. I’m just taking the time to—you know.”

  “Yep, still working. Now bye!”

  Asher blinked when the intercom went silent. There was no way he’d call her back. She’d never let him live that down. He snorted with a laugh thinking of one of her classic responses. “Ash, get off my tit and go home!”

  Looking around his massive office for any last items, he grabbed his case and headed out the low-profile back door. On the highway headed north from downtown Atlanta, he had to let the smile out. He’d gotten out of the office without incident and was on his way home and then up to the mountains with his boy for some bonding time. This would be the first time in over a year that he’d be able to release his dragon and fly. Monique was right. This is what he needed. Instead of waiting until the morning, he’d pick up Brock and drive up tonight. They’d get there in time for him to have a late-night flight to stretch his wings.

  The thought of being free like that with no one around set his mood to happy. Even though he rarely used that mountain home, it had been placed there for the greatest amount of privacy, safety, and security. He hadn’t been there since the first year it was built right after Brock was born. Now, he’d re-christen it with a late-night flight—tonight.

  Whistling a light tune, Asher made it through the start of the clogged holiday weekend traffic without a care or worry. This was going to be great, him and his kid, in the mountains. If what he’d noticed about Brock was true, it was time for the little guy to start learning the ways of the dragon. His little man was maturing faster than he’d expected. Not even six yet and Brock was doing things he didn’t do until seven and older. Asher allowed the pride of how fierce he saw his son becoming, as a man and dragon, to fill him. And, he’d be the one to show him the way and navigate the road ahead. He could do this. No one else was equipped to raise his dragonling but him.

  Yep, it was a great time to be alive.

  3

  Daryl Livingston—late May

  “Serious—you’re not joking?” she said into her cell, grimacing at how high-pitched her voice had become.

  The man’s voice on the other end said, “Yes, I’m serious. Got the approval for the funding back. You’re good to go. But remember, we need your completed prototype in our main offices in Atlanta by July fifteenth.”

  “Yes, of course. Send the specs and contracts to that address I sent over.”

  “We already have. It was couriered up there this morning. As for compensation, we set up a deposit account for you with the bank we use. I couldn’t get approval to send payment through the online app you requested. Also, Accounting wouldn’t approve it, and the amount is too large for the app to accept it.”

  The amount was too large?

  There was a pause. He must have heard the catch of panic in her throat. Daryl held her breath, holding the cuss word in. She couldn’t let him know how bad off she was. After her run of financial troubles, no bank had agreed to give her a bank account. Daryl had already tried, begged, and pleaded to no avail. She imagined money sitting in an account that might as well be on the moon. Without approval for access to the account, let alone a debit card, she’d be screwed. How was she going to get the money for parts, materials, and to get out of here?

  Looking around the beautiful guest house that she was illegally living in, new fear and anxiety of getting caught welled up. Deep down she knew her being here was on borrowed time. Sleep had been racked with nightmares of being taken off to jail in the middle of the night. Mustering up the courage to play it cool, she asked, “Are you sure I’ll be able to use that account? How do I even access the funds from it?”

  “Oh, that’s easy. We used your business and personal identification numbers you supplied during our vetting process to set it up. Only you have access to the accounts. We can make direct deposits, but you’re the sole owner of the accounts. Daryl, those are your bank accounts.”

  “Bank accounts?” she asked, stressing the fact that he’d used the plural. “But I tried using that bank before and they—”

  “Look, Daryl, I worked with your father for a few years before he, you know, passed. This is between us, but I made sure the company vouched for you to have an account with the bank. It’s all good. You have full access to both business and personal checking and savings accounts. My contact in accounting even set up a small business line of credit that will be secured by five hundred dollars of your first draft. And, your welcome.” He laughed. She liked how light he was making of the fact that she was a financial wreck.

  Humility overcame her. “Thank you so much, Mr. Sonders. I can’t thank you enough for being my champion at the company.”

  “No need to thank me. If your project works as well as your specs appear to suggest, trust me, you’ll need to have a business account to handle the funds and not get in trouble with the IRS. I’m doing my part to make sure we can have a long-lasting business relationship. I kept tabs on you here and there. You remind me a lot of your father. I guess genius is an inherited trait. Welcome aboard. In the signed contract, you’ll see who your project liaison will be, project production schedule for components of the prototype, and a few other things.”

  “Thank you again.” She had to say it one more time. “But, I need to make sure you all understand that I’m the manager of this project and that I work for me—not you. As long as that’s clear and your liaison doesn’t get it twisted about how this will work, I’m good to go.”

  “Don’t worry. There’s nothing in there we didn’t already discuss. Do what I know you can, bring the project in on time, and you’ll do well.”

  “I will. I appreciate your help.”

  “I’m glad you reached out to me. It looks like this will be a win-win for both of us. It was easy going to bat for you. You did great work for those Austin startups. It’s time you work with a larger, more established company who can showcase your talent. This could be the start of a lot more business for you as well.”

  Daryl could hear the smile in his voice. Mr. Sonders had always been nice when he came to meet with her dad at his home lab. She found herself daring to take in more than a few shallow breaths here and there.

  He continued, “Now, don’t forget to sign the contract and send it back in that express mail envelope you’ll find in there
. We’ve already deposited a project sign on bonus as a goodwill gesture of our intent into your new bank account. I have faith you’ll more than live up to your proposal. It was a no-brainer for me to do that. But, note that the sign on bonus must be returned if you don’t get the contract back to us by the date listed. Your signed contract must be back here a little over a week from today. And yes, I know this is Memorial Day Weekend coming up. So, don’t wait.”

  Emotion rose, but she couldn’t give into it, yet. Daryl had to make it through this call before shedding the tears that threatened to flow. Her dad’s face came into view. She wanted to imagine him smiling at her in approval. She’d done it. A major corporation in the alternative energy sector had given her funding to work on her latest project. They finished the call, and he sent over information on how to contact her new bank account representative.

  After ending the call, she exhaled and let the tears flow.

  “I’m doing it, daddy,” she said through loud, ugly sobs. “I’m going to make you proud and make sure everyone knows how great you are. This one’s for you. I remembered what we worked on. Now that I’ve sold the idea, I need you to help me bring the idea on home.”

  The idea to use compact space to generate alternate clean energy had started as one she’d worked with her father on during her summer vacations. Being up here in his country had reignited her creative and inventive flow. Plus, this place was so calm, serene and private, she’d been able to think and figure out her next move. Taking a huge leap of faith and a precious three hundred dollars of her cash reserve, Daryl had produced a proposal and initial prototype that could help get high-altitude floating wind turbines in the air above the height where birds flew. Her initial focus for the units would be over bodies of water where there was a constant flow of wind. Floating in a sweet spot above where most birds flew and lower than most traveling drones and aircraft, the design would be compact, lightweight, low maintenance and durable.

  She walked out the double French doors of the guest house and looked up in the direction of her test prototype. Up only a tenth of a mile or around five hundred and thirty feet, her floating wind turbine was wirelessly powering her laptop, phone and portable chargers for her toothbrush, and the lights she used in the guest house. The prototype for the contract would float at around double the height up or a fifth of a mile high.

  Daryl had burst into tears when she’d figured out how to make the initial concept work. She’d cobbled together gadgets from a local junkyard and dollar store to create the machine. It was ugly as sin but worked. When it stayed up in the air for three days straight and produced enough energy to power the lights in two of the rooms and her personal electronics, that’s when the idea to contact Mr. Sonders had blossomed. Seeing the speck up in the air now brought a huge smile of pride. This was the perfect place to work on it. No one was around, and she could focus. Had she attempted to work on this back in her apartment in Austin, it would have been stolen, hacked, compromised or worse in a matter of days. Corporate espionage was alive, thriving and cut-throat.

  Remembering the healthy paranoia of distrust she’d learned from her dad, Daryl had only sent in part of a proposal, leaving out key components that would make the concept work. If Mr. Sonders hadn’t bitten, she would have branched out until she found interest. This project was in part a tribute to her father who’d started her down this path. He’d been the one to teach her how to approach a problem, change her thinking in a flash and become innovative enough to survive and find other ways to accomplish anything.

  As a black man in an industry with few others like him, he’d learned how to stay relevant but not too much so—more attention meant more problems. His inventions were foundational appearing as a necessary part of many of the energy technologies today. The sad part was that he never took an interest in learning the business side. That would have prevented him from being raped of his ideas.

  That would have also gotten him out of the dump he lived in. Daryl pressed herself to get past all the money her dad should have been paid for his inventions. Instead, the companies had stolen them saying he’d produced them as part of his contractual working status at the company. One after another, she’d watched in horror as he tried in vain with little money to fight for the rights and patents to his work. The bastards hadn’t even been willing to pay him extra compensation for the inventions, claiming his work was their intellectual property as per his employee agreement. It made sense why she could never fully embrace the employee role. Call her secretive, diabolical even, but there was no way Daryl would fall into the same trap as her father. With strong Wi-Fi, she’d managed to hack into here at the house, YouTube had taught her a lot about how to protect her intellectual property from would-be corporate thieves.

  It was a shame though. The same folks who’d stolen her father’s work without proper attribution or compensation were the same ones she found herself having to court. With the right funding and innovative team behind it, her idea could be used for both commercial and private sector purposes. Using them over bodies of water as small as creeks and rivers would help to get clean, renewable energy to remote locations.

  She flinched at a muted sound in the distance. That was her norm every time an unknown sign pierced the normally quiet of her refuge. It had been a sound that led her here and the same sound that had kept her from being discovered the next time the crew of workers had come to maintenance the grounds. Thankfully, the landscapers had only come each month on the same day. After that first close call, she’d remembered to be out of the guest house the next time they came, which was like clockwork the next month. If everything worked out, she’d be out of here before they came again next month. A tiny seed of hope germinated in her soul that this was the break she’d been after to get steady income flowing.

  For a little over two months, she’d been holed up in this guest house, praying each day for enough time to get on her feet. Daryl eyed the old bike she’d found at the nearby junkyard. It had only cost her fifteen bucks but did the job of helping her get around. Checking her phone to see it was already mid-afternoon, she hurried to get to the business mailbox store she’d set up as an address. The bike was faster but not that fast. As she peddled onto the smooth road from the mansion’s driveway, thoughts of how she’d ended up here floated to the front of her mind.

  It was funny how walking six miles from town to here those first few days had felt like an eternity. Learning it had only been six miles had solidified her determination to get into better shape—after she got enough money to find her own place. For now, she used the bike and only left when she absolutely had too—usually in the early morning to avoid being spotted by nosy locals who might take an interest in her leaving this place.

  Looking at her phone, the bank representative’s information stared back at her. Too scared to mess anything up, Daryl decided she’d call the person on Tuesday. She didn’t want to be tempted with the hope of a bank account with a little money in it before she’d signed the contract. She might be down to her last three hundred dollars, but her ability to stretch money had grown. She’d be okay until Tuesday. Adjusting her trusty backpack on her back to hold the few groceries she’d grab while in town, Daryl set out to handle business and the best piece of news she’d had in a long time.

  When she’d been let go from yet another coveted Austin tech job back in March, that had been the final straw. Daryl wasn’t cut out for working for others. She didn’t like the structure or neediness of managers to know every single thing she did in a given day. It had never been her work that got her fired. No, it was her inability to shut the hell up and not give the manager the necessary fuel to fire her for “extreme insubordination” as a few of them had stated on her exit documents.

  Her latest attempt at working for a company had been the worst. The manager had been a guy her age, but he had it confused that he wasn’t her damn daddy! A twenty-four-year-old guy from one of the best suburban communities in Texas, he’d proved to
be the spit to her vinegar with his smug disdain for all things her. When he made a big show of firing her in front of the entire company, the revelation came with clarity. She wasn’t cut out to work for anyone, even as a twenty-four-year-old with little corporate experience under her belt. Packing up her little box at her desk, Daryl made the decision right there to return to the area where her father had spent his last days working and inventing. Surprisingly, the small north Georgia town was as small and quiet as she’d remembered.

  Her trip to the mailbox store, and to get grocery for the long weekend had been uneventful—thank God. She made it back as the late afternoon sun was lowering. The large envelopes with the company’s logo and another with the major bank’s logo on it sat in her backpack calling and taunting her to open them. After a quick dinner using the hot plate she’d gotten from the dollar store, Daryl settled down on the comfortable couch to open the contract envelope. She took in the setting again. It was so beautiful.

  She’d done what she could to keep it as pristine as she’d found it, even buying cheap plastic shower curtains to drape on the countertops where she worked and cooked her food. There was no way she’d use or mess up anything that wasn’t a necessity in here. When she cooked, it was on her own hot plate, using her own plate, bowl, and utensils. Daryl might be breaking the law, but she wasn’t a freeloader who took complete advantage by ruining the place.

  Enjoying her cup of herbal tea, another great buy from that amazing dollar store in town, she opened the contract envelope. Everything she expected to see was in there. When she got to the part about her compensation and terms of a working agreement, Daryl almost burned herself with the hot tea. The amount of money they proposed was more than she’d ever imagined. Plus, there were the laid-out rights she’d discussed that she would independently keep her patents and ownership, they would lease the technology. When she got to the part about an exclusivity use period, she agreed. The amount they proposed made sense considering this request. But, it was when she got to the part where they wanted her to work exclusively with them and agree to a two-year non-compete clause that her stomach lurched in disagreement.