The High-Tech Lynching

The error prompted a red light to illuminate.

“I’m sorry. You have a forty-six point six percent melanin count. You may not enter the Wilmington, Delaware courthouse.” The checker moved onto the next patron and a green light passed. Her blond hair, cerulean eyes, and pearl-colored skin flew by in a blue light as she entered the building. The checker was black as the patron he whisked away. Paula Gander shook and raised her head. She walked back to her car. In the passenger seat, sat chemicals that would make her skin snowy white.

She brushed away a tear and fixed her hair in the mirror. She sped off.

In the bathroom she looked at her face and body. The oily black touched her skin. She then used the chemicals to make her almost olive colored. The formula changed her melanin count. None worked past that hue. She applied more to her skin and looked at the mirror. It was like looking at the colors of a setting sun as the computer system in the mirror checked again, and passed her.

“I knew it, goddamnit!” Fury mixed with relief made a combustible combination. She drove back to the checkpoint to have her melanin checked again.

Once more, the checker turned Paula away. This time, the reading showed forty-nine point eight. She was closer to her goal of being white, white, white. Upon achieving the correct count from the court, she would be emboldened to begin her business.

Until then, she worked at suing the state of Delaware for disallowing citizens from entering government run facilities. Her lawyer, Tyrus Hopper, instructed her via the InternaComp system hooked up to the base of her skull, and provided needed information and entertainment.

“Just fight with me. The government is wrong for forbidding a private citizen’s passage into such an establishment. Keep fighting,” he commanded.

Paula had dyed her hair blond first, and used the InternaComp system to change her eye color to glacier blue-gray. She then made her hair as crimson as a red delicious. It was a pity the InternaComp system did not change skin color. Her chemicals were like salves and balms to mask the scrapes and bruises of her soul. So they remained her outlet to become someone brighter, in skin tones at least.

She slathered on the cream, and drove to the court again. The checker put away his equipment. He grabbed Paula by the arm and threw her down.

“Third time's your last chance. You’re banned from attempting for another forty eight days.”

On the way to her car, a man named Ferguson Puce strolled to Paula.

“I know you don’t know me, but I can reduce your day count. Follow me.”

Paula followed the man to his car where he shoved her in the backseat. After gagging and binding Paula, he entered a code to disable her InternaComp system’s ability to call for help.

Puce gathered some rope, and threw it over a tree. He then dragged Paula out of the car with tears streaming down her face.

“You’re about to learn that only the whites can enter government places.”

Puce tied the noose so tightly around Paula’s neck, she nearly choked on the ground. He then strung her up, with her legs kicking wildly, still bound together. The kicks then slowed, and slowed and then stopped. Puce hopped in his vehicle and returned to the government building. He used his InternaComp system to type up the digital story to be published in the Daily Delaware. He used his journalistic skills to commit murder, and still no one found out about it.

Paula would never know what could have been.