The Road to Amistad

by Ken Dickson

  “Hey, everybody, I’m Erin Young. When I was in high school, I was at the top of my class, a cheerleader, popular—the whole bit. That all changed when I woke up in a psych ward. The diagnosis: bipolar disorder. I was told that I’d be medicated for the rest of my life. I spent the next decade popping pills to combat the depression, mania and side effects. Thank goodness I had a psychiatrist who’d answer the phone at all hours of the night, and a loving family who supported me, or I probably wouldn’t be here now.

  “A few months ago, I awoke feeling stellar. I took my meds as usual, but vomited them up. I called my psychiatrist, and we adjusted dosages, but everything we tried made me feel miserable. It seemed that I’d developed an allergy to my prescriptions overnight. My psychiatrist cautioned me, reminding me of the disasters that ensued when I stopped taking medication previously, but I saw no alternative. I quit.

  “My life took off after that, and I’ve never felt better. Curious as to what happened, I found Dr. Merry’s challenge, and here I am. My position as manager of Facilities is my first management role to which I bring considerable experience in architectural design and landscaping. I couldn’t be happier to be here and look forward to the incredible times ahead.” Erin passed the microphone to a tall, lanky, fair-skinned man with a perpetual smile and unruly auburn hair. I couldn’t help but notice that he was the only one at the picnic wearing a tie, a very colorful one at that.

  “Hello, everyone. I’m Conner Gonzales, Engineering Manager. I don’t mean to brag, but I’m the brightest member of my family: one of a few high school graduates and the only college graduate. It was no surprise when I landed a high-paying technical job, but that wasn’t enough. I went back to school and earned a master’s degree and still couldn’t find satisfaction. Then, I changed like all of you and desired even more. It wasn’t until I attended that presentation at the Arizona Grand that I discovered my destiny: to build a better tomorrow. I believe in the infinite potential of humanity, and this change puts nothing out of our reach. I can't wait to see how far we will push the envelope. Thank you, Matt and Ken, for the opportunity of a lifetime. Whatever you need, I’ll deliver it.” Conner smiled even more broadly and passed the microphone to a full-figured dark-skinned woman.

  “Hi, people, Allysa Jackson, manager of Finance. Papa always said, ‘A penny saved is a penny earned.’ Unlike most people I knew, Mama balanced her checkbook to the cent every month. We moved often—always to a nicer neighborhood, a better home. I learned first-hand how to stretch a dollar and make money work for me. It seemed only natural that I ended up in finance. I’ve worked with Matt off and on for years. When he unveiled his plans, I was initially skeptical, but you know how things go with us—before long it became my obsession, and I was banging on Matt’s door, begging him to hire me. I don’t know where this crazy ship is headed, but I sure as hell would rather be on it than anywhere else. Thanks, Matt. I’m looking forward to being on your team.” Allysa nodded at Matt and passed the microphone to a heavyset, red-faced man who seemed at ease behind a microphone. His deep voice boomed as he spoke.

  “Wow! Those are some moving stories. When this happened to me, I cleared my calendar and spent the next few days on another planet. I sure couldn't explain what happened. When I talked to friends about it, I saw plenty of raised eyebrows. One acquaintance even made a cross with his index fingers. I piped down after that. It wasn't until an associate from Nanosys sent me Merry’s social media link that things made sense. When I met all of you for the first time, I felt like I'd returned home after an extended absence. What a rush it is to be around people with dreams and panache in spades. When I heard about BRI and Amistad, I immediately envisioned the fascinating legal issues they'd encounter. My only question was, ‘Where do I sign?’ I’m John Miller, formerly of Miller and Associates, and I’m managing the legal department. Don't hesitate to call my team if you need legal help. The road ahead is going to get bumpy, but we'll smooth it. Thank you.” He passed the microphone to a sharply dressed and much shorter Indian man.

  “Greetings, everyone. I’m Raj Malik, and I’ll be managing Information Systems. I always believed that nirvana was a place of emotional peace. Seeking that peace, I meditated every day, experiencing it only briefly. Now, I don’t meditate at all, and I’m at peace regularly. I thought that I’d be content beyond my wildest dreams when I found my nirvana. Instead, I felt alone and without purpose. That’s when I realized that nirvana is more than just an end to personal suffering. To be truly content, you must also connect with others and make a difference: ultimate fulfillment can only be reached through peace, harmony and goodwill. I’d already found peace. When I met all of you, I found harmony, and when I learned of Amistad, goodwill. It fulfills me to be here. Thank you.” He bowed his head respectfully and then handed me the microphone.

  “Thank you, Raj. I couldn’t have said it better myself. This crazy ship, as Allysa put it, can’t set sail without its captain. Please welcome a good friend and someone I deeply admire, the president of BRI, Matt Bently.” Matt stepped forward and joined the rest of the team, towering a good six inches over everyone but Steve and Conner.

  “Hi, everyone. Ken and I go back a ways, and we’ve butted heads frequently through the years as I reined him in with my conservative investment rules. A few months back, he approached me with an outrageous investment scheme. I wanted to toss that idea into the trash, but I’ll be darned if it didn’t lure me in. That scheme yielded better than any investment I’ve ever made. I can honestly say that without his preposterous idea, I wouldn’t be running my own company now. He deserves not only my gratitude, but my full support. For that reason, Primera and Amistad will be top priorities. The future health and growth of BRI depends on these projects and what we will learn from them. I’m all in, and I hope that every one of you is, as well. Welcome to BRI, and here’s to a brighter, more prosperous future for all of us.” He handed the microphone to me.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, the management staff of BRI!” We joined hands and thrust them into the air in unison, and the crowd went wild. When the applause died, I continued. “Today, we party, but Monday, we start down the road to Amistad, beginning with Primera. We are officially a team from here forward, and we are going to experience things that we never dreamed possible. That’s all I have. I’m going to speak with the management staff, and the rest of you are free to leave, or stick around for a while and enjoy each other’s company. Thanks for coming, and thanks especially for joining BRI.” I switched off the microphone and joined Matt and the managers. “Are you ready for some fun?”

  “Hell, yeah!” Steve shouted.

  Chapter 16

  TROUBLE IN PARADISE

  Just over seven weeks after the company picnic, the dream of Primera was well on the way to becoming reality. Working with resilients was exhilarating. I’d never seen a more adaptive, cooperative and dynamic group. Even outside contractors brought in to address city code and eventually operate heavy equipment fit right in. Things couldn’t be better. As I thought this, feeling pride, I received a call.

  “Hi, Ken. It’s Conner.”

  “What’s up?”

  “We’ve got a problem. I don’t know how to candy coat this, so I’m just going to give it to you straight. A good portion of my crew is screwing around.”

  “You mean goofing off?”

  “No, maybe you call it ‘doing the horizontal bop?’”

  I laughed. “I’m not that old. How is that a big deal?”

  “A few of them were caught doing it on the clock. If I’d caught them myself, I would have fired them on the spot.”

  “Hmm.”

  “I didn’t spend years getting a master’s degree to become a babysitter, and I’ll tell you what the big deal is: we’re missing deadlines. I’ve spoken to other managers, and they’re seeing the same thing. It’s as if the change short circuited people’s moral compasses.”

  “Calm down, Conner. We’ll sort this out.�
��

  “I’m so busy I don’t have time for a girlfriend. It was like that for all of us in the beginning. For a while, we were unstoppable.”

  “I knew it was too good to last.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Let me think on this and get back to you.”

  “Okay, but don’t think too long.”

  ***

  It was just past 9:15 p.m., a little early for me to go to bed. Beth, on the other hand, typically called it a day just after nine and then read in bed for an hour before going to sleep. Sometimes, particularly when I needed her advice, I’d join her. This night, I was lying fully dressed, minus my shoes, on top of the comforter, my head on my pillow and my arms crossed over my chest, obviously deep in thought. Beth, tucked in next to me, read a book under the incandescent glow of a pull-chain reading lamp that stood next to the bed.

  “You’re pretty quiet tonight,” she said, peering over her reading glasses at me.

  “I’m trying to solve a problem.”

  Beth sighed and set her book face down on the comforter. “And?”

  “Conner informed me that some of the employees are getting intimately involved during work hours. It’s distracting and causing missed deadlines. Any ideas?”

  “Tell them that it’s unacceptable. Sex and the workplace don’t mix. But I’d leave it at that. What they do on their own time is their business. That’s my take. Mind if I read now?”

  “Okay.” Beth liked me next to her, but didn’t care for me interrupting her reading—which I did frequently. It was a logical suggestion, but this situation seemed to have broader implications. Minutes passed, and I became increasingly restless. Finally, I swung my legs off the bed and stood.

  “What’s up?”

  “I need to get some air. I think I’ll go for a drive and try to sort this out.”

  “Okay. Don’t be too late.”

  I kissed Beth goodnight before leaving. A short time later, I was in my car heading east on Chandler Boulevard when an idea struck me. I reached for my cell phone and dialed a number.

  “Jessie? Hi, it’s Ken. I know it’s late, but would it be possible to come over and talk to you about a problem? Great! You’re a life-saver. Can you give me directions?”

  ***

  Jessie lived a few miles north of the YC’s where we’d eaten lunch. Just shy of a half-hour later, I pulled into her complex and entered the security gate code she’d given me. I parked the car and proceeded toward her condo: number 2005 on the second floor of the westernmost unit. The complex looked modern with rock facades, faux columns and fresh landscaping, but huge trees on the grounds hinted that it was older than it appeared. As I climbed the stairs, I couldn’t help but notice the Cannondale mountain bike secured with a U-lock to a five-foot steel railing leading from the top of the stairs to her door. I looked for a doorbell but found only a brass knocker. I rapped twice with it, and moments later the door opened.

  “It’s nice to see you again. Come on in.”

  She was bare-footed, wearing a dark gray cotton tank top and thin black sweat pants. I wasn’t sure if they were workout clothes or pajamas. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail. It was hard to imagine her ever looking frumpy, and even in that getup, she was quite alluring, in a tomboy sort of way.

  “Nice bike.”

  “Yeah, I haven’t taken it on any trails yet, but I put a lot of miles on it on the Scottsdale Greenway, which is only a block away. Can I get you something to drink?”

  “Some ice water would be great.”

  As she walked toward the nearby kitchen, I sized up her place. It was tidy and cozy. The paint and carpet were fresh. The nearby kitchen where she filled my glass sported brand new black granite countertops, stainless steel appliances and elegant cherry cabinets.

  “Your place is beautiful.”

  “Thank you. They remodeled it just before I moved in.”

  A black-painted steel fireplace fit flush in the wall across from me. Photos of people filled the expanse above it.

  “I love your photos. The frames are gorgeous.”

  “They’re my family and friends. I found most of the frames at Goodwill and refinished them.” Jesse returned from the kitchen with my drink, directed me toward a cream leather sofa next to the door and placed the glass on a coaster on the black lacquer coffee table in front of it. “Have a seat.”

  I assumed she would sit on the matching love seat at a right angle to the sofa, but instead, she curled up catlike on the opposite end of the sofa and studied me intently as I got comfortable. “What was it you wanted to talk about?”

  The photos above the fireplace struck a chord in me. Except for a few paintings, the walls of my own home were likewise filled with photos of people who were important to Beth and me. I suddenly felt awkward. I hadn’t really considered being in another woman’s personal space.

  “Ken? Are you all right?”

  “I’m sorry. I guess I didn’t think this through. I feel like I’m invading your space. I should go.”

  “No, it’s fine. Really. Tell me what’s going on.”

  “All right.”

  Unexpectedly, thoughts poured out in a torrent. I didn’t realize how much I’d bottled up: things that were, for one reason or another, impossible to discuss with anyone else because they dealt with people like her and me. It empowered me to share them and to have a unity of spirit, a oneness with her that was impossible with others. Finally, I got around to Conner’s problem.

  “I thought everything was going well until Conner called.”

  “What did he want?”

  “To inform me that a good number of his employees are getting sexually involved. A few were even caught in the act at work.”

  “What did you expect, bringing people like us together?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Don’t you feel it—the connection between us? We’re not like everybody else.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Yes, you do. That’s why you’re here. Deep down, we’re magnets to each other.”

  I hated to admit it, but she was right. My attraction to her was undeniable. It was there even before YC’s. I’d thought of her for nearly a year. That shone new light on the problem at hand.

  “It’s worse than I thought, isn’t it?”

  “I think that if you do nothing, you’ll fail,” she said with certainty, then fell silent, driving home the gravity of the situation. After a time, she spoke again. “They could just be bored. Maybe they’re not doing what they were meant to.”

  I felt goose bumps as she said that. In that instant, it became clear to me that we made a mistake when we organized BRI, a mistake that could prove very costly.

  For the next hour, we brainstormed, arriving at a solution just after 11:00 p.m. Then, a lull in the conversation provided a convenient stopping point. “I should get going.”

  “It is a little late,” she said with a yawn.

  “Thanks for letting me come over to work this out with you.”

  “No problem. Don’t be a stranger.”

  She hugged me after that, and a part of me wanted to stay. I felt welcome and comfortable there. Then, I remembered Beth alone in bed. I said goodnight and left.

  ***

  As I lay with Beth in the dark, I pondered relationships in the new world. My few hours with Jessie showed me first-hand the appeal of a relationship with another resilient. Then, I thought of Emma and my strong attraction to her. It seemed that the capacity and capability to love was higher than ever—if you were changed. The complexity of Conner’s problem suddenly took on a whole new dimension.

  Relationships could prove a very big challenge for our new world. How would that affect families? Perhaps they might be outdated, and children would instead be conceived and raised by people who were passionate about doing such things. Children are necessary for the survival of any society, even the one we were creating. Perhap
s this was something we needed to address with Primera, or even more, Amistad. There were so many questions about this new world. I hoped that there would not be many days like this—ones that began perfectly normal and ended with a giant question mark.

  The line of thought ultimately faded, leaving me in the undeniable reality of my bed. I rolled over and kissed Beth on her cheek. A sleepy smile crossed her lips. I ran my fingers through her short, dark hair for a few minutes and admired her beautiful features in the pale light. I pulled the sheets partially aside to run my hands along her exquisite curves through her nightgown. She pulled them back again, but only after giving me long enough to get my fill. It made me desire her, but I knew that it wasn’t the time. I whispered “goodnight” into her ear and turned over to go to sleep. There was still one more problem to solve, but it wasn’t going to be solved tonight. The solution to Conner’s dilemma was going to come as a shock to the staff of BRI. How would I tell them that it meant we’d have to dismantle our fledgling company?

  Chapter 17

  LIFE ON THE STREET

  Almost fifteen years earlier, just past midnight on June 23, 1997, seventeen-year-old Frank Stone leaned impatiently against a street lamp, awaiting a delivery from the cook. Three months earlier, he’d dropped out of high school and run away from home. His father had abandoned him when he was nine, and his mother was a vicious drunk. Life on the street was a picnic compared to living at home, and it suited him just fine. As he waited, he plucked pebbles from his left hand and pitched them at a cracked and filthy plastic cup sitting upright at the edge of the pavement a few yards away. Surprising himself, he landed more in than out.