Smartystan

At the skateboard shop, Go continued to tool and retool his hardware. The decks had to be polished and the trucks had to be affixed to them. Hardly anyone treated him like he was a billionaire Founder. Instead, they saw him as someone who could be on whatever level of income as the next man. He didn’t deny his money, but he most certainly did in no way display that he earned a fortune.

“Did you get those kingpins?” he asked Chanda.

“Yeah, they should be coming in by tomorrow,” she said as she polished the wheels.

“What are the odds?” Go asked.

“What?”

“What are the odds that we form a whole new nation and still be in a beautiful skateshop?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it. We’ve been so busy.”

“I mean, we get guests into here, some use the half-pipe, others are just curious. They may have read my name in some Webzine or something. They put two and two together and finalized their suspicion that I was actually what the article read.”

“And they just want to use the decks,” she said.

“Precisely. All they want are boards. You wanted the bearings, too, right?”

“Yes, my dear.”

“So, among your billionaire and millionaire friends, who can shred the most?”

“I’d say Keija. She actually skateboarded in a previous life. Not professionally. Just little stuff around town. Grand prizes in the hundreds of dollars, that sort of thing.”

“I’m really impressed. I never thought that about Dr. Frampton.”

“Exactly. No one expects the unexpected until they're ready to expect it.”

“Right.”

Chanda looked out the window. The sky was a soupy gray that mixed with the sun’s glaring light and made the day feel like better things would come out of the gloominess.

“One thing I’ve always said,” she intoned, “was that whatever your station in life, you can rise to elevations you never expected.”

“I agree with that, too.” Just listen to the music. This is Phyllis Deaver. She overcame meningitis, a dilapidated school system, and slight hearing loss in her right ear to become one of the most preeminent classical and blues performers. Her songs stretched from Delaware to all over the world.”

“I thought that was Phyllis singing. She’s got the pipes.”

“And it’s not just that. It’s her philosophizing on Blues records that make her so special. She truly wanted to exhibit the human condition with her words.”

Chanda nodded. “Her Classical music is timeless.”

“Absolutely. She had reach if a Japanese guy and an Indian girl could appreciate her beautiful musical stylings,” Go observed. “ I think it’s amazing to even consider a black woman having full symphonies and then transitioning to the twelve-bar structure. That’s impressive.”

Chanda sighed. “If only we could have met her. You know? Just be able to preserve human life for centuries, millenia.”

“Trust and know, Keija is working on just that, but don’t tell anyone I’m saying this.” Chanda looked intrigued. She leaned in a bit.

“Keija and Belinda are working on some kind of synth human hybrid that will change the course of what we know as modern science.”

“Wow,” Chanda said, a childlike grin curled around her mouth.

“So, like I said, don’t breathe what I just told you to a living soul.” All the while, there was a customer sitting between a case of magazines and clothes with his smartphone recording everything that the couple had just said. The doorbell pealed and another customer walked to the counter. In this transition, this shady guest left when the other person walked through the door. Chanda journeyed to the back of the store.

“Howdy, what can I do for you?” Go asked.

“I’m having trouble with my deck. It seems wobbly,” Josh Creighton explained.

The man handed the deck over to Go.

“Yes, it seems like it needs to be reinforced. I would say just get another deck because the repair would probably be too expensive and you’re going to have to keep bringing it back each time.”

“Alright.”

“We have a wide selection behind me….”

“Wait a minute, you’re Vestin Go. You’re a billionaire.”

There was always at least one. Usually, this never took place, though.

“You’re a Founder. Cool!”

“Yes, now if you would just follow me to the rest of the merchandise….”

“Can I get a video?”

Go never hesitated. He posed for the flick.

“Now, if you want me to get a new board, I can certainly do that for you.”

“Of course, sorry, man. I’m just overwhelmed that I’m talking to the Vestin Go,” Creighton emphasized.

“I thank you. So what designs are you interested in purchasing?” Vestin had not grown angry, just a bit peeved at the overzealousness of this guest.

“Anything with a spider on it. That will complete my collection.”

Go wondered. “Collection?” he asked.

“Yes, I’ve got all kinds of spider memorabilia, I even have spiders living with me.”

“That's actually pretty cool. I can make a deck for you in about a week.”

“Thanks, er––”

“Just call me Vestin.”

“Yes, Vestin. I will not forget this nor be unappreciative.”

“Like I said, it should take us about seven days to make sure it’s perfect for you.”

“Salute to you,” Creighton said. He soon left the store.

Chanda returned from the back. “Who was that?”

“A supporter. I’m going to put work in and see if we can retain him as a returning guest.”

“Okay. Hey, we’ve still got to get those orders together. What are we going to do about inventory?”

“We’ll do what is right in these situations…nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“That’s right. We just have to spend a bit of time on addressing all of the items on the list and then do absolutely squat about them. I know this to be true because we’ve done this before. It’s weird to say and do, but it’s what is best for us given this current climate.”

Chanda exhaled. “Okay, I’ll at least put on the labels.”

“You do that.”