Smartystan

With a few strokes of a digital pen, Mala and Sheltham became millionaires.

“We did it! We passed our final tests. I’m just thinking of making millions of dollars at the office assistant desk,” she mentioned.

“And I’m going to be making millions behind the wheel of a truck. Only in Smartystan.”

Then, Mala darkened. “But at what cost?”

“What?” he asked.

“I mean the classes. What will millions of dollars really do in this economy? There are folks with tens of millions, hundreds of millions, billions, tens of billions, and hundreds of billions. Carson Waddell is set to become the first trillionaire in world history. What does it really mean to be a millionaire?”

Sheltham sighed. “I think we just have to see where the dollar stretches,” he responded.

“I want to become better acquainted with these new found riches that will be in my account soon, but I want to tread lightly….” Mala remarked.

“To be cautious would be ideal.”

The two of them sat in the bedroom while the boys slept. Their hushed tones spelled for a union of words that befit a meeting of a cabal.

“I just don’t know. I’m glad. I’m ecstatic. I just don’t want it to seem like being a millionaire is all that it’s supposed to be when other classes above us are living much better lives,” she said.

“I know. I wonder if it is for us to be broke out there in the rest of the states and live under the misery of tyranny, or live comfy in the confines of this country-state,” Sheltham replied.

She turned over to him and looked him in his eyes. There was ice in her glance and a bit of bitterness.

“Please just say things will be alright. By you saying it, just mouthing the words, it will make me feel better,” Mala intoned.

“Everything’s going to be alright,” Sheltham assured.

Mala sat up. “But what if it isn’t? What if we get married and the boys become brothers and we have this big house and we jumpstart a family? What would it be like then?”

Sheltham laughed. “You’re jumping way ahead, wouldn’t you say?”

“I’ve got to…there’s a message in what I’m saying. Our future together….”

“Together?”

“Yes. Together. We can raise these boys as a team.”

“I think we can see each other and I can still raise my boys and you can raise yours. What’s this about marriage?”

“Like I’ve said, ‘those boys need a mama.’”

“I’ve been a single dad for years. I had to fight for my way in this life and I’ve never forsook my boys. I never betrayed them. It would be like treason to do something against them.”

“Is that something marrying me?”

“I didn’t say that. I’m just saying, there’s few black men who are raising young black boys in this place. I had to battle for my license and position as a driver. I don’t want you….”

“You don’t want me, what?”

“I don’t want you to think that I don’t want you and your boys. It’s beautiful the time we share together. I think the idea of them being brothers is wonderful. But I’ve got to be careful.”

“La, la, la, careful. What we can do with this little nucleus that might be forming is transcend the stereotypes as you have so eloquently pointed out and deliver a mixed family of blacks that actually don’t care about stereotypes but want to see their stations become greater,” Mala retorted.

“I hear you talking….”

“Know that I am talking. Know that what we can do is make a dynasty. We can start a brand new family. Our former spouses never could pass the exams so we don’t have to worry about them. They’re completely in the rear-view mirror. We can focus on the road ahead.” That same iciness stayed in her eyes as the bitterness increased. Just to talk about her ex- made her become agitated.

“I understand. You want a stable, two-parent household. You want to have the rolling lawn and the German Shepherd and the inground swimming pool in the back of the house. Once we figure out the value of having millions, we just might be able to better understand our position in this world.”

Mala shifted under the sheets. The light reflecting off of the moon struck her brown skin just right. “I want you to say something to me.”

“What is it?”

“Promise me….”

“I don’t make promises, I make commitments,” he replied.

“Well, commit to this…you will be there for all of us. You talked about the black man and the household. Well you should be able to add two more sons and a wife to this equation.”

“You keep this up and we’ll have a son between the both of us….” Sheltham rejoined.

“I’m serious. We’re too old for another kid. What I’m talking about is the merger of our existing families and how we can be able to send all of them to college. It would be something that we may have not had the chance to do before.”

“We’ve got to figure out what these earningings will entail. We’ve got to see what it means to generate this much money and where it can go….”

“That’s what we do when we can finally say we’re millionaires….” Whatever the hell that means,” now the bitterness infected Sheltham.

Mala spoke with cold sentences still, but they remained pointed and about the facts.

“We’ll know. And when we finally get to that great place where we say we’re more than comfy in this country-state, where our boys can play, learn, think, and grow, that will be the moment where we’ll be able to comprehend the economy.”

“Yeah, home economics.”

She slapped his face. It wasn’t a hard smack, just a quick tap on the cheek, open-handed and deliberate.

“I want you to remember that this is for me. It should also be for you, too. It should be for all of us.”

Sheltham looked at her with a comprehension and a sense of compassion that he had not expressed previously. He kissed her forehead and placed the tablet on the night table and rolled over to go to sleep.