by Kipjo Ewers
“Wow.” She shook her head. “How’s he financing that operation?”
“He flat out jacks the pimps,” Sophia laughed, “all of it goes toward the victims and the upkeep of the monastery. He calls it their ‘donation’ in repentance against their wrongs. Apparently it’s set off a chain reaction of some kind. Through him a lot of the women have found the strength to take back their lives. He’s become a big brother to them, and a father to the children. I gave him a sizeable donation which he tried to refuse, and I introduced him onto Olia. With her information network, they can work together to track down these horrendous operations and put an end to them.”
“So you were the blinding light that struck him down on his road to Damascus,” Shareef chuckled. “And put him on the right path, hence the name “Brother Paul.”
“I guess so,” Sophia shrugged, “but he wasn’t the only one who learned something on that day. I learned I don’t need to break bad men to make a better world. I just need to inspire good ones.”
“Amen,” she nodded, “Amen.”
“I remember telling Charlie, when I decided to pull that stunt in Washington in 08, that I was tired of running,” Sophia confessed. “Since I came back after surviving that nuke, all I’ve been doing is running. Fighting Peace again was a revelation, the world has changed, is changing, and I played a huge part in it. I can’t turn away from my responsibilities anymore. Ten, maybe fifteen, years from now, a whole new generation of EVOs will reach maturity, if we don’t want a repeat what happen three months ago, I have to lead by example. Try to make a better world for everyone to live in.”
“Well girl,” Sister Shareef nodded with approval, “you know I got your back.”
“You really gonna suit up?” Sophia cracked a smile.
“Child I’m a pardoned ex-con, fifteen years shy of retirement age, and now a grandma.” She cut her eyes. “What else am I going to do?”
“I’m glad you’re my friend,” Sophia came out of leftfield telling her, “it’s the only good thing that came out of what I went through at Mountain View.”
Sister Shareef nodded as the mist began to form again around her eyes; she quickly wiped them flicking them away.
“You’re not my friend,” Shareef corrected her; “you are my sister.”
As the two women gazed upon one another reaffirming their friendship, a gust of wind picked up drawing their attention upward to Kimberly in her wetsuit hovering several yards up. She returned from swimming with Kyle, Akram and the other children.
“Were you two going to kiss?” She tilted her head with a perplexed look.
“No!” both women yelled back at her, while putting some extra distance between each other.
“Oh okay,” she shrugged. “Auntie Shareef, can I speak to my mom for a minute?”
“Sure, sugah, I’m about to go find me some Mr. Earl anyway.” She spun on her heel walking back to the village. “See yawl later.”
“Shareef!” Sophia yelled getting semi-serious. “Do not kill that man!”
“Not listening to you!” she responded adding a little more sashay to her walk.
Sophia shook her head watching her leave as Kimberly slowly descended back down to Earth.
“Why is Auntie Shareef going to kill Mr. Earl?” Kimberly raised an eyebrow asking.
“No honey,” Sophia blushed. “She’s not really going to kill him, she’s…”
Not prepared to have that talk with a daughter she has only had for a couple of months, she decided to change the subject.
“What would you like to talk about?” she smiled.
“School is around the corner, and I miss my friends in DC.” She looked down while using her big toe to doodle in the sand.
“You want to go home.” Sophia nodded with a smile that fell a bit.
She wanted to avoid this talk for a little while longer. The past few months, even through the rebuild of the island, saw their relationship grow exponentially. It took her a several days to get over Kimberly calling her mom without breaking into tears.
However, a small part of her knew that homesickness would kick in, her child had built a life for a second time without her, and as much as she wanted to badly keep her, it was not fair for her to keep her from it.
“I thought this was my home?” Kimberly met her mother’s gaze with a sad confused look.
This made Sophia bewildered.
“Okay I’m confused,” she vocalized. “You want to go back to Washington to live with Michelle, right?”
“No.” Kimberly shook her head. “I just want to go back to my old school. Flight time is like thirty to forty-five minutes both ways depending on how fast I go. Maybe you could take me till I’m old enough to fly on my own.”
“Yes,” she blurted out. “Yes, I will take you.”
She smiled as she cupped her daughter’s face.
“And this is your home,” Sophia reassured her.
“Uh, Mom.” Kimberly fumbled around her next question.
“Yes?” she coaxingly asked.
“When I was born, and if we never got separated, what would you have named me?”
Her eyes filled with tears as her heart felt like it would pop in her chest. It was a question mixed with both joy and sorrow.
“I wanted to name you after my Aunt Vannie on my mother’s side,” she choked up, “short for Vanessa.”
“Well, I’m kind of use to Kimberly being my first name, but Vanessa could be my middle name… Kimberly Vanessa… Dennison.”
Her words opened up the flood gates within Sophia who moved closer to her.
“I’d like that,” she whimpered. “I really would…”
She kissed her daughter’s forehead and grabbed her whisking and twirling her around as if she was still an infant.
“Mom!” Kimberly screamed. “I’m ten years old!”
“And you’re still my baby.” Sophia pulled her in for a hug. “You’re still my baby…”
Sophia broke down crying with joy as she held her daughter. It would not be the last time she would cry, she was sure of it. Nevertheless, that heaviness in her heart, that emptiness in her stomach was forever gone. Kimberly gave in breaking down as well, that feeling of loneliness and abandonment would never return. She was home, she was truly finally home.
“Mommy…” Kimberly groaned between her sobs.
“Yes baby?” Sophia asked through her own.
“You’re… still... stronger… than me,” she said.
Sophia erupted laughing with joy in between her cries. She loosed up her grip, but she never let go. She would never ever let go again.
CHAPTER 27
Two weeks later, Sophia sat in her powder room in a robe surrounded by her daughter, Sister Shareef, Michelle, her little sister Gemma and her mother with a none too pleased look on her face.
In front of her sat a silver case, personally delivered yesterday by Abe Rogers himself. It was her new outfit constructed by Lady Tech.
“Honestly, I don’t know why we’re making a fuss over this?” She rolled her eyes.
“Mom, it’s your coming out party,” Kimberly lectured her. “People worked really hard for this.”
“For what?” she snapped back. “I’m wearing some stupid costume, not coming out of the closet! And even if I was, I wouldn’t make this much of a fuss! And what was wrong with the original outfit I had?”
“Gal, you a supahero!” scolded her mother,. “You fi look like a supahero, not like ya ah come from dance hall!”
Her grandmother’s comment made Kimberly cackle. She quickly stopped as her mother gave her the ‘No, you are not laughing at me look.’
“Okay,” Sophia huffed, “let’s get this over with.”
She stood up flying open the latches to the case opening it up. Sophia reached in pulling out a full bodysuit with a hood attached in a different red and black color scheme minus the silver of her old suit. It appeared as if the red and black seamlessly flowed together. The new materi
al had a dull shine to it. Inside were also new boots and bracers to match the outfit.
What caught Sophia’s attention, where the emblems on both shoulders of the outfit. It was the West African symbol for Freedom designed in gold. She slowly ran her hand across it.
“Everyone in the village helped me pick it out,” Kimberly smiled, stepping in. “I contacted Lady Tech and asked her to work it into the design.”
“I… I’m not…” Sophia swallowed, understanding the responsibility of such a symbol.
“Yes, you are,” her daughter stopped her. “Everyone who I spoke to about this said the same thing. Whether it was from oppression, poverty, abuse, drugs… you gave them back their freedom, and that’s what your name should be.”
“Amen,” Mrs. Dennison’s voice crackled as her eyes became glossy. “What a powerful name! Betta den some of dem foo foo names out dere!”
Sophia saw a chain reaction of waterworks about to begin and decided to break it up before it got contagious.
“All right!” She clapped her hands. “Out! Everyone out, so I can put this thing on and come out! Everyone but Michelle, I need her to help me with something.”
As the rest of the women exited the hut, Michelle closed the door behind her. She turned perplexed to see a near-teary Sophia motion for her to come closer.
She walked up a bit hesitant to her as she held both of her hands looking down at the ground, before looking up at her.
“I never got the chance,” Sophia’s bottom lip trembled, “to properly thank you for taking care of my baby.”
Michelle broke Sophia’s grip cupping her face to wipe her eyes as her own tears fell.
“Thank you, for sharing her with us,” her voice cracked, “and for giving me back my husband.”
They hugged each other confirming a bond never to be broken, one to last for an eternity.
˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜
A half hour later, the door to hut opened. She slowly walked out onto her porch adorned in her new suit. Her heart began to swell and overflow gazing out at the reception waiting for her.
Before her stood a sea of people who were now her family. She knew each of their names and all of their stories. It did not dawn on her till she stood there seeing them all together in one place what she had truly done.
A tidal wave of emotions overtook her, as she covered her mouth failing to fight back running tears.
Her reaction brought tears to other people’s eyes. A misty-eyed Earl clapped and cheered encouraging others to do the same in order to break up the waterworks.
It gave her the courage to walk down her steps and stand before them.
“Honestly, I don’t know what type of hero I’m gonna be crying on day one.”
“An awesome one!” her mother yelled from the crowd.
Creating a sea of laughter as her father held her mother’s hand.
“I told one person,” she looked directly at her mother, “the reason why I really created this island. What I did not tell her was I did not save one person standing before me today. You all… saved me.”
She turned looking at all the faces before her.
“You took away my anger,” she smiled, “and brought back my humanity. When I look into each of your eyes, you remind me that there is still goodness in this world. That no matter how dark things get, we can rise through it into the light. If evil tries to break us, we can mend becoming stronger than we were before, and no matter how lost we may feel we can find a way back. This is what I learned from all of you, my family.”
“Amen! Amen!” yelled a choked up Mr. Norton.
Zeek standing by him, threw a brotherly arm over his shoulder while wiping his own eyes. Mr. Norton did the same pulling the young man close to him.
“And now onto why I am wearing the color outfit.” She quickly posed before getting serious again. “I can’t ignore anymore that we live in an age of wonderment. An age where people now have powers and abilities to make a difference for good or evil, an age that I am responsible for. Many good people gave their lives to open my eyes to that fact. With the help of Earl and the council, things will continue to run during the times that I am away. Which hopefully won’t be for too long.”
“We’ll hold things down for you, Soph, don’t you worry!” Earl yelled.
“I know why you all chose this symbol for me.” She touched the emblem on her right shoulder. “Honestly, I don’t think I am worthy to carry it or the name, but I give you all have my word… I will become worthy, and I will make you all proud.”
As Sophia finished her speech, Akram, Kyle, along with all of the children in the village, stepped forward.
“When I get older, I will be stronger. They’ll call me Freedom. Just like a wavin’ flag,” Akram began to sing.
The children all joined in singing their rendition of K’naan’s “Wavin’ Flag.”
In the midst of the song, Sophia slowly ascended. She looked down at her blood family and her extended family cheering her on. Nadiya Romanenko and the twenty-eight, now spread apart within the crowd, able to stand on their own with their heads held high again. Alison Jefferies, the light she once lost now back in her eyes, no longer alone.
Most importantly, her little girl with tear filled eyes looking up at her with pride, because she was her mother.
“Go, Mom, Go!” Kimberly screamed.
On her command, Sophia Dennison, now Freedom, streaked off into the blue skies.
˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜ ˜
Twenty minutes later, she stood on the lawn of the White House for about an hour and a half. Fifteen minutes after her arrival a White House correspondent backed by a twelve-man Secret Service team came out to ask what she wanted. An audience with the President was her response, and she was not going to leave until she got it.
She looked around impressed that remnants of the battle from months before were gone.
Eventually Mohammad came to the mountain. With a detail of six Secret Service men, the President walked onto the lawn to meet with her.
“Ms. Dennison,” he extended his hand, “or is it… Freedom now?”
She smiled at his perception and shook his hand.
“Something my family from my island came up with,” she smiled.
“So what do I owe this visit from the woman who saved the world… again?” he asked.
“The UN General Assembly is in two weeks.” She got down to business. “I am asking you to please play this on my behalf.”
Opening up the compartment in her bracer, she pulled out a memory stick extending it out to him. Surprisingly, he took it from her without hesitation.
“May I ask what this is in regard to?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Peace was a psychopath,” she answered, “and her plans for this world would have been horrific. However, through the madness, some truth cannot be ignored anymore. Our world has changed, in the next fifteen years not only will the superhuman race have increased, many will have reached maturity. Some will have powers and abilities to rival my own. That is a fact that cannot be ignored. If we don’t want a repeat of several months ago Mr. President. It’s pretty simple… we either evolve… or we die.”
He reluctantly nodded in agreement.
“What are you proposing?” he asked.
“It’s more of an ultimatum.” She narrowed her eyes.
The President’s face switched from curiosity to concern.
“It’s said that God created the world in six days and rested in the seventh.” She looked up at the sky. “I think seven years is enough time for you and the rest of the world’s leaders to get their acts together.”
“You want us to remake the world?” He attempted to understand her weird statement.
“No, I want you to fix it.” She smiled. locking eyes with him. “Let’s face it, Mr. President. You all have not been doing a very
good job. When a bunch of geriatrics living off taxpayers’ dollars can shut down government in an attempt to fulfill their own agenda… then a good job is not being done. When the one percent’s bottom line is more important that the realistic threat of global warming, which I have seen personally, then a good job is not being done. When we are afraid of those who should be protecting us… then a good job is not being done. When we permit murderous warlords, despots, and cartels to run rampant, when we hold white slavery and the exploitation of women and children on a lesser scale to a person walking around with a nickel bag… then a good job… is not being done. And that’s just the sprinkle of the problems this world currently has. This world is long overdue for an uprising.”
