Wind Crasher looked at the figures. His six foot six inch frame dwarfed Dr. Covey Strong. He had his hair braided on one side and showed tannish brown skin.

“I like it,” Wind Crasher admitted. “The Lenni Lenape Nation will love it, though. And our friends of a lighter hue.” They talked in Strong’s drawing room, Wind Crasher or Ron Stevenson as he started to call himself, lifted up his head.

“We can make at least two billion in the first three years,” Strong observed and sipped from some fine bourbon. Wind Crasher leaned over and clinked glasses with the doctor.

“If we situate it between where the Old Delaware parks sat, we can just convert the whole place to table games.”

Strong nodded. “Yes, we should do this for the individuals….”

Wind Crasher frowned. “But this is for my people.”

“Your people are individuals. They’re not and you’re not your ancestors. Instead of nomadic savages roaming the land––”

“Here we go, Covey….” Wind Crasher  interrupted.

“No, listen, once we individuate the tribes, we’ll have a shot at making all those people autonomous and controllers over their destiny.” A small crease in Wind Crasher’s forehead deepened.

“I’ve heard this before. I know what it’s like out there. You want those off the reservations in the West to come to Smartystan so you can further build your fortune. Is that right?”

“That’s right, but that’s not the only thing. The main goal is to free up the minds of those who have been beaten down by history. It is to set them on a course for liberty,” Dr. Strong explained.

Wind Crasher chuckled a bit. “Ever the capitalist, Covey….” Wind Crasher replied.

“That is also true. The system we built for this nation-state is rooted in the fundamentals of free trade. Since there is no income tax, no governmental controls or regulations, we have the opportunity to maximize wealth.”

Wind Crasher looked outside and grimaced at the afternoon sun. “So what are we calling this place?” 

Dr. Strong cleared his throat. “Yes, it’s just another name for what we plan on having in this small country.”

With a hand that waved in space, Wind Crasher the swooping curve of the building that lay on his lap. “I think we should call it the Lenape Lounge.”

“No, again, we’re breaking away from any collectivist influences. It’s gotta be something that says ‘Come play with us.’” Covey sipped.

“Okay, okay. But our history is what is important here. Our history is what makes us the people who cultivated this land before any European could ever set foot on this property.”

Dr. Strong cleared his throat again. “What do you know about the Land Bridge?”

Wind Crasher rolled his eyes so hard it seemed like they’d get stuck. “I know where you’re going here, too. The Africans and Asians first came to this land thousands of years ago. They brought with them various cultures and tribes. I know.”

“Also, they roamed over this continent and had no conception of property rights. For millennia, they spent their time fighting each other. When explorers, who some never even set foot on this ground, discovered this land, it was to open up trade routes. Individuals who had been on the course to self-destruction found from the Europeans and others that they could place value for value in peaceful exchanges,” Dr. Strong further discussed Wind Crasher’s own legacy.

“I’ve heard it all before. There’s nothing new, Covey. The country before Smartystan was devised was built on genocide, rape, pillaging, slavery…that’s your people.”

“I don’t have a ‘people.’ I have my own effort built by my own mind and recognize my ancestors as those who came before and pushed for change in this world.”

“My people did, too,” Wind Crasher retorted.

“Yes, and the white man’s fire water and rampant poverty crushed the will of the people. The former country was not constructed on genocide and slavery. It fell heir to it. The tribal nations also warred to wipe out entire generations. They also held slaves. With this proposal, we have the ability to effect change in the way we do business here,” Dr. Strong asserted.

Wind Crasher looked down at his diamond encrusted watch. It matched his cufflinks and pinstripe midnight blue suit. He swung his right leg over his left knee.

“We can talk about history all day, Cov’.  The fact remains that within three years, this place will be up and running and we’ll be making money. House always wins,” Ron “Wind Crasher” Stevenson observed.

Dr. Strong wore a gray blazer and trousers with a burgundy sweater and white shirt. He relaxed in his chair and began to look out the window at the learned machines manicuring his lawn.

“I’d say that the comfort is in knowing that there will be a day where the history will not be forgotten or forgiven in some cases. We will see a day where the men and women of this place will have somewhere to let off steam and even earn a few dollars,” Dr. Strong pointed out.

Wind Crasher sighed. “It’s all in the cards….” he winked and sipped. “You see I can put this down,” he motioned to the glass in his hand. “Some of the people I know from reservations failed to control their alcohol consumption and look where it got them.”

“That’s the reason why we have rehabilitation centers on every corner of Smartystan.”

“I know about your friend and fellow Founder Go.”

It was like a shotgun cocked in Dr. Strong’s mind. “Who doesn’t?”

“He kicked his heroin habit. That’s a definite indicator of the power of prayer and fasting.”

Dr. Strong leaned in and stated, “It’s not an offering to some mystical force. It is the power of the individual mind. That’s it. Those rehab centers have proven to work wonders related to this Earth. If people choose to pick the ones that are faith-based, that’s their business. But Vestin Go has nothing to do with God.”

Wind Crasher set his glass down and inhaled sharply. The scent of lavender and cloves rushed up his nose. “You know I dabbled in cocaine. I was hooked. And then I got saved by Jesus Christ.”

“There’s another tale of how the separation of the government and faith should be reflected in business matters as well,” Dr. Strong continued.

The two men sat in silence for a long time and then, “I think we’ve got a good chance of being the guardians to this whole plan. We can make it bigger and better with just the construction of this particular idea,” Wind Crasher sounded like a college student tossing his mortarboard in the air. His excitement seemed palpable.

“Of course, of course. With this new addition to the Smartystan grid, we’ll have ample chances to generate funds. This is about bringing great minds together to work on a plan.”

As the time peeled away from them, they looked across the room and saw Monica II. She stood in a black dress with clear heels. She peered at Wind Crasher.

“Hello, Mr. Stevenson,” she imparted. 

“Hi Monica II,” he answered. A grin stretched across his face.

“Honey,” she looked at Dr. Strong. “Do enjoy your visit with your friend. I’m going to be in the anteroom. Use your brainchip to announce when you’ll be done. Thank you.”

Monica II left their presence as quickly as she had appeared. The soft clicking of her heels dissipated with every step she took in the direction of the vestibule.

“I tried to tell you she was nice,” Dr. Strong announced, a sly smile planted on his face.

“How do you two––never mind. Let’s stick to business,” Wind Crasher mentioned.

“So, we have these plans in order for the individual. No nation is going to go for that. They are rooted in their ancestry. They are rooted to this land.”

“What you’re saying is there is some deterministic consciousness floating over all of our heads, making us function and do things?”

“Then don’t go hypothesizing about what thousands of people still want for their own lives,” Dr. Strong admonished.

“I’m just saying there’s going to be pushback from these tribes, including my own who wish to have a greater sense of their prospects in life.”

“That’s why we intend to make this a setting for adults to relax and play. We’ll have it set up so that the people will have the power. When I say ‘people,’ I mean grown up men and women only. You know, there are folks with my skin color who wished they had been granted structures like this. People with your hue continue to sit on reservations and squalid conditions. They’re ready to come to a place like Smartystan to enrich themselves in the glories of this great land.”

“You make it sound so simple, Covey….” Wind Crasher replied.

“That’s because it is. When the four of us got together, we wanted to declare the third version of the original Declaration. The second had been a novel by a remarkable woman. What we did was open up the trade routes as outlined by this author and philosopher. What you have is a nation-state bent on establishing and reinforcing individual rights. Within just a few moments time, we have achieved that. Yes, there are bumps and snags, but we accomplished a bloodless revolution.”

“No blood? What about the people outside of the gates that wanted to be at each other’s necks? What about the ones who pointed pistols and assault rifles and aired them out without regard?”

Dr. Strong sat up some more. “Those all were cases on the outside of these gates. Smartystaninans are peaceful people who value and cherish life. They wish to only meet each other as traders. There are classes, of course, but the middle class keeps shrinking because people are finding ways to make more money. There is no nanny state. No government programs or handouts exist here.”

“Why do people in my tribe struggle to fit in? Hell, to 

“That is because of our robust system of whether we allow qualified individuals into the city-state. As more and more illegals filter through the crevices, we’ve noted that they’re here to start life afresh. The system is for a more perfect State and has its lapses. But that’s why we look at the data. Scores of people, some from the Lenni Lenape, have come here illegally. But what do they do? They find jobs or make jobs for others and enjoy the fruits of this land.”

Stunned, Wind Crasher just sipped. “I gotta hand it to you, Dr. Covey Strong. You know what you’re talking about. It will be some doing to fully agree with all your words, but I think I’m coming around the notion of not being put into tribal, collectivistic boxes.”

Dr. Strong’s face grew grim. “That’s all I wanted to hear.”

“When this adult playground is finally erected, we will have a great deal of those who will become entrepreneurs.”

“We’re already entrepreneurs,” Dr. Strong responded.

“Well, yes the both of us are. I chose construction, you chose selling books and devising a completely new place to thrive.”

“No, I mean the great majority of us are entrepreneurs in our own right. It doesn’t matter if someone has a bank account with two dollars in it, it’s their account and they remain lord over all their finances.  Not over others. In the true entrepreneurial spirit, it is within us to install this setting not for the good of the people but for greed and selfishness.”

A profound understanding embedded in the processor that remained in Wind Crasher’s brain. Like a reprogramming or an update in software, he had been transfixed and transformed by Dr. Strong’s rhetoric. He stood to his feet and Dr. Strong did likewise.

“Thank you for this,” Wind Crasher mentioned and extended his hand to shake with Dr. Strong’s.

Chintan Jani

Smartystan

Summerhouse

Wind Crasher looked at the figures. His six foot six inch frame dwarfed Dr. Covey Strong. He had his hair braided on one side and showed tannish brown skin.



Smartystan

Summerhouse

This is an Exclusive Story for supporters of Skyler Saunders

About the Creator

Skyler Saunders

Comments (1)

Upgrade to see comments and join the conversation

Keep reading

Prepared: A Birthday Card to the Corps

Smartystan

Summerhouse

This is an Exclusive Story for supporters of .css-13w9qce-Text{display:inline-block;color:var(--text-accent);}Skyler Saunders

About the Creator

Skyler Saunders

Comments (1)

Upgrade to see comments and join the conversation

Keep reading

Prepared: A Birthday Card to the Corps

This is an Exclusive Story for supporters of Skyler Saunders