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blackfemmecharacterdependency · 4 years ago

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2. The Stars Are Only the Beginning

Everything was beautiful! She saw things that she hadn’t seen before, things that she believed to be long gone, like fruit trees and people with pets. On the bus ride to the Academy, she counted 57 people with pets! They had little animals in their bag, or bigger ones, on a leash. The air smelled cleaner and there were fountains lining the school grounds. She was reminded of an old book where a boy goes to magic school for the first time. This. Was. Like. Magic.

The world that Nana had known wasn’t dead. She was just not able to be a part of it anymore… And now, Shani would be! She would be able to live out her Nana’s dreams. That’s what she thought. The childlike wonder burning bright inside of her for the first time in real life.

One of the first things that happened upon leaving the bus was decontamination. The students went into a chamber that served as a huge shower, placing their bags on a conveyor belt to be scanned, searched, and disinfected. After the showers, they were given uniforms to put on and handed the rest of their uniforms. They were taken to treatment, where they were tested for diseases, lice, etc.

“You’ll have to get rid of your hair,” the lady told Shani.

“Oh no! Do I have lice?” She panicked. She had heard about lice before, but never had it, as far as she knew.

“It’s too much,” the woman said.

“I can handle it,” Shani promised her. She had never cut her hair before, ever. The woman informed her that she had to get on that right away because photos for IDs were next and her hair was against protocol. Shani tried to recall being informed of what protocol for hair was. She didn’t remember seeing that in any manual, but she had not yet accessed the Student Handbook, as it was an online handbook, and she wasn’t inside of the school yet to have access to online resources. She looked around. Other kids had either straight hair or tamed their curls into flat styles that only betrayed their texture in certain areas and with certain eyes.

She watched a boy with pretty well done locs cry silently as his head was shaven. There was no way! Most of Nanefua’s stories happened during the lengthy process of maintaining Shani’s hair, to the point where Shani tended to style her hair as she read a book, reminiscing of that feeling.

For the moment, she got her bags back and rushed as quickly as she could to put her hair into two french braids. It was puffy at the edges, but the lady shrugged her shoulders and simply reminded her that if she looked like she wasn’t at her best, they would respect her less every time they looked at her files. Panicked she looked at the clippers, considering it - though years later she would never admit so. One of the other girls tapped her on the shoulder and handed her something. Shani read the container: edge control. The girl mouthed to her, with only a muffled sound coming out of her lips, “This will help in a pinch, but you really should get someone to put it into a protective style for the semester.”

Shani spent the next few minutes smoothing her edges and touching them up with the toothbrush she packed for her hair, then gave it back to the girl, signing “Thank you,” to her.

The girl seemed surprised, but signed back “You’re welcome.”

They parted ways as Shani headed for the ID section. Her photo was taken and uploaded. Her stats were programmed into a brass plated electronic cuff, which was then placed around her arm and secured. She looked down at it and several lights were flickering, a few whirring sounds were made and finally it tightened around her arm and announced, “System activated.”

The woman explained to her the meanings of the lights and sounds, “Whenever everything is paid up, all of the lights are gold. Whenever you need to pay, the segment that needs payment will light up green until it's paid. If you get behind a payment, it will light up red, and your academic experience may be interrupted.” She wore a stern face as she said, “And failure to pay, even upon removal from the program could result in sentencing.” The woman’s smile returned and she tacked on, “Between you and me, sometimes, you can pay through extra credit work and extracurricular interests that lead to revenue.” She winked. Shani nodded. “Perfect attendance also helps, and is one of the biggest determining factors in being in the Gold League.”

“What’s the Gold League?” Shani asked, already determined that whatever it was, she was going to do it. But, the woman had other students to prep and she was sure that it was in the Handbook.

Meanwhile, the deaf girl wasn’t getting an arm cuff. Instead she held her wrist forward and they scanned a chip inside of her forearm. “Welcome back, Miss Charming. How was your trip?” The person asked, but Miss Charming wasn't looking at her and didn’t immediately answer. However, a holographic interpreter appeared from her bracelet and signed the words.

“Wonderful, thank you,” the girl finally answered.

Shani noticed, only then, that though the girl had on the same royal blue color as the rest of the students, she wasn’t wearing one of the uniforms that they had been given. As they headed for orientation, Shani wondered where she got her outfit and if it was within regulations for the uniforms. It was a blazer and a pleated skirt, with a necktie and a red ribbon on her left lapel. On the right were a slew of pins, and ribbons, and she wore a gold badge on her coat.

She awkwardly smiled and signed to Shani, “I’m in the elite program.”

“I didn’t know that they let people into the elite program with…” Shani froze, unsure of what the correct word to use here was and feared she had already said too much to backtrack.

The girl looked upset, but she managed a smile as she passionately let her know, “I can do anything that I set my mind to do! Nice to meet you.” She hurried off to two other girls who were in a similar attire as hers - the royal blue of the Academy, but not the exact uniform that Shani and the others had on. She announced, in that muffled tone, “I am approaching!” And one of the girls (a brunette with short hair) gasped and turned to hug her. The other (a blond with long hair in a braid like Rapunzel) was smiling. She had already noticed her come up. They were signing and the one that Shani had spoken to, the Black one… She couldn’t tell if all three were deaf or not, was talking for both her and the other girl. Shani watched them longer than she intended - until they were out of sight, then she realized that she had to rush to orientation!

Shani watched as the board addressed the students. Well, the board was seated on a panel and a spokeswoman addressed the students. She noticed one of the board members in particular, who was as dark skinned as she was, with hair as coiled, though her hair was tied up in an intricate style, much like Nana might have done, and adorned with gold embellishments.

The board was dressed in two golds. Genuine, authentic gold that Shani had only ever heard of in books, and then the gold that she knew of, but hadn’t really seen much of, now that she thought about it. But, there, she saw full outfits of it. A bright tone in super expensive seeming professional wear, accented by jewelry. The school board was the most regal thing she had ever seen in real life. She read that it was “the luxurious Spanish yellow hue (that the Academy bought rights to) which could only be purchased through the Academy, and only worn by members of the board and members of the Gold League.

“I have to get into that.” She read the requirements. All A’s. Perfect attendance. Good citizenship, as determined by the board. Superior presentation, as determined by the board… She… did not know how to make notes on her new device… yet. So, she broke open her paper notebook, and scribbled in red: Goals 1. Gold League. 2. Find paper version of handbook. 3. Research the history of this Spanish yellow hue. 4. Find out that deaf girl’s name and where she gets edge control…

After orientation, a member of faculty dismissed the kids to find their dormitories and let them know the bell schedule for the following day. “Is there a map?” Shani asked a boy seated next to her. He turned up his nose and kept going. She sighed and found staff. “Hi. Is there a map?”

“There’s GPS in your device,” she said, smiling and went on with her business, not hearing Shani say that she didn’t know how to use or find the GPS in her device.

Her chest felt… pained? Excited? Scared? Restricted. Her chest felt tight. Her breathing was difficult. She wanted to scream and insist that someone help her find the dorms. She wanted to. But, you can’t do things like that in real life. She tried not to cry, though she was very frustrated, and she reminded herself that you need to have a plan and a path before moving forward. She moved against the wall of the auditorium and sat on the floor. She scribbled: How to Use My Device at the top of the page and doodled a happy ladybug on a flower. She studied the device for hours before someone came up to her, after everything was cleared out and nobody else was supposed to be in here.

“Girl?” They said and used a scan gun to pull up the info from her arm cuff, “What are you doing?”

She looked up and realized that he was talking to her. He had on a gray uniform, so she knew that he wasn’t faculty. They wore a Midnight Blue attire. This was a gray uniform like people she knew from home. He probably lived in the Outskirts and worked in the city. She hoped that her being here wouldn’t get him into any trouble! Mama told her that Outskirters could get into trouble on a job for just about anything. “I’m sorry! I hope I don’t get you into trouble. I didn’t know how to find my dorms and there was nobody to help me, so I was just here, teaching myself how to help me…”

She looked embarrassed as she put the device away into her issued backpack. “I was taking notes of the instructions of how to use my device, and drawing a map on paper, in case I couldn’t get the device to work, even with my notes…”

The man was sympathetic. “Listen, Miss Moore…”

“That’s not my last name!” She panicked, “They must have put the wrong information into the system for me!!”

“No. They just… rebranded you. There’s… Nobody of stature with your last name, as it appears on your birth records, so they granted you a more acceptable name, for room to grow.”

“They… Took my last name away?”

“It’s in the school system. It just won’t appear on any of your achievements.”

“But…”

“As I was saying, we need to get you to your dorms! It’s your first day and we don’t want you to get in trouble for wandering the halls unauthorized. Pop out that map and lets see if it gets you where you need to go, Miss Moore.”

“I don’t like that name. Can you just call me by my first name?” She asked, looking at the map, “Or did they change that too?”

“Is it Shani?”

“That’s my middle name.”

“The middle name is listed as your first name, now.” She felt that tightness in her chest again. “Listen. When I was your age, I couldn’t DREAM of getting into school. You made it here and with hard work, you’ll probably make it to a seat at the table. When you get there, you can be whoever you say you are.”

“I am who I say I am, right now!”

“As long as you know it, nobody can take that away. Even if they’re calling you something else.”

Shani laughed to herself… That’s not REALLY how the conversation went. That’s how it would have went if she had been the adult. What really happened was he was very short with her.

“Look. Your name is Shani Moore and you need to get to the dorm, so hurry up, before both of us lose this!” She shuffled, trying to keep up with his long strides and consult her map and see through tears burning in her eyes and the smears they made on her recently drawn map. When she got to the dorms, it was spacious, but seemed cramped, because all of the space was being used. There were rows of loft beds with work spaces beneath them, and a wardrobe beneath the stairs. All of the other girls were comfortably in their issued pajamas and staring at her in disbelief.

“You missed showers,” one girl said and everybody started laughing. Why? That shit wasn’t even funny, even by her 10 year old standards. She sat at the desk and unloaded her device. She would learn this stupid thing if it took her the rest of the night! And since there was no physical book about it, it nearly did. That was her first day of school.

But, that wasn’t the version that she gave to incoming kids. She gave the story that felt good. She gave the story that inspired hope.

Luna Charming passed by her, SO PRETTY in her royal blue pantsuit with a half pony and a red bow. She signed to her friend, “Working for free AGAIN?”

Shani shrugged her shoulders and signed back, “SOMEBODY’S got to help these kids!”

Shani usually went to the auditorium for orientation, seeing if she saw lost looking kids to assist and guide to where they needed to go. Most of them, she never saw again, but she felt better than she did that first day and she hoped that they entered their academic careers feeling better than SHE had. She fell in step with Luna and the two signed to each other as they walked, then parted ways whenever they got to Shani’s dormitory. Luna’s quarters were in the “alter ability” wing.

Luna, being deaf, although she was in the elite program, did not share chambers with other students in the program. She shared chambers with other students who lived with various conditions, but were smart enough or rich enough to gain their way into this school. Luna was both.

She had been purchased as a dependent when she was a toddler through an agency that paid poor parents for their children and sold them to rich people. It wasn’t considered an adoption, because the process was far less formal and not at all scrutinizing. But, Luna had been purchased by a wealthy couple that was into adoption for their charity phase, but didn’t feel like the hassle of the process. She was 2. She ONLY knew the Charmings as her parents and wouldn’t have never known about the way she came to be theirs if mean rich people didn’t have kids her age. She found out when she was 5. In their guilt over her upset, the Charmings spoiled Luna, a little more than their other children (who they collected in the same manner). They were also “into” disability awareness those years. They bought Luna and two of her sisters, one who didn’t talk (Taraleigh) and the other blind (Lorilei), and to this very day, there is a baby photo of the three of them, from a set in which they were See No Evil, Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil…

The older Luna got, the more she hated that thing. It was massive, and hanging in the parlor of her parents’ mansion. Yet, despite being less than civil people in certain aspects of humanity, they were decent parents.

Of course, Luna knew that she thought this perhaps because she was the favorite of the three. They were only at the academy because she was, and they weren’t in the elite program, so even though Luna was, she bunked with them, instead. A waste. That was what Luna had told Shani the headmaster said of her intelligence whenever she thought that she wasn’t paying attention enough to read his lips. “A waste of intelligence when she’s like this.”

“I have other attributes,” Luna had said, surprising him. He even had her tested again to see if she could hear and was for whatever reason lying. When he was satisfied that her records were in order, he told her that her parents had given her leeway to put herself on record with a first name of her choice. (They had the money for it, you see, and the successful last name to boot.) “Luna,” the 6 year old said, “I’m going to be an astronaut.” She knew that face. You poor child. He must have been thinking. She ignored it and pressed forward, officially in the Academy records as Luna Charming.

“Of course you are!” He cheered. Even not being able to hear his patronizing, she knew it was there. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but she could tell something was off. It was probably his insincere smile, or the thing that she had seen him mumble before. “All of the payments for your entry into the elite program on an astronaut’s trajectory is in the system and your personal interpreter will be arriving with all of your special needs materials.” She nodded. She didn’t necessarily need an interpreter, but she knew that the state of the art materials she would bring along would be very useful. Years later, Luna was above and beyond her… well… it would be ridiculous to call them peers.

Nobody was in her league. She had worked with the intent to be the first 14 year old deaf astronaut. She had gotten the credits to receive credentials. On. Record. She met her goal. But, she was informed that she would definitely have to finish several other certifications, and was recommended another trajectory… to TEACH others. A teacher? Sure… privatized schooling was lucrative and her field of study would be booming… but that wasn’t what she wanted and she felt that if she was only a little closer to their normal, they wouldn’t have even suggested it.

Both of her sisters were back in a special needs school by the time she was 14. They not only didn’t cut it at the Academy, but even being rich kids, they always felt like everyone was trying to make it harder on them there. Sure they were. Luna had peeped that by the time she was 8. Their parents were willing to pay whatever it took to make sure that their children were the best. Teachers could say that Lorilei needed a new device that was patent pending to access computer systems in a way that blind children never have before! And the Charmings were going to pay for it. They had paid for numerous surgeries to help Taraleigh to be able to speak, even experimental transplants, until the moment where she forgoed the desire and settled uponed a first edition customized speech box that allegedly would give her the voice she would have had, had she had one.

“You’re different, Beth. You’re gonna reach those stars” the voice had said to her when she hugged her sisters goodbye.

“The stars are only the beginning,” she told them. That became her mantra.

Now, she was opening her video mail to see Shani excited to finally get her Gold League badge. Luna sent her a congratulatory gift basket with some of her needs in it - edge control, plantation credits, and a few Spanish yellow accessories to start off the freshman year.

With her sisters gone, Luna didn’t even leave the old quarters. She didn’t feel like having to get used to new neighbors and stuff and at least she had some memories here. But, she had ALWAYS had sisters, and now she was on her own in a wholly different way than whenever she had to go to class. They weren’t there when she got back.

She looked at a notification blinking on her screen. A message from Mom. “Annabeth, are you going to need us to pay for the elite quarters? We have to know by the end of the day.”

“No Mommy,” she said and the message was sent. At least she still had Shani.

A/N: I kinda hate how I jumped around in this one and might wind up tweaking it later on. It didn’t seem to transition seamlessly for me. Anyways, as much as i have ideas, I’ll go ahead and put them out there. Thanks for reading!

#Story Concept 01: No Saviors in the Wild #No Saviors Story #BFCD Story Concepts by Nesha #stories #original content #Nesha Writes

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skirtrubbersuppliers-blog · 6 years ago

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yeahnews · 3 years ago

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Rock, Paper, Shotgun · October 24, 2021

The Sunday Papers

The Sunday Papers is our weekly roundup of great writing about (mostly) videogames from across the web. Sundays are for nearly having a heart attack when the toaster pops. Before you jolt awake, let's read this week's best writing about games. The folks over at ChaoyangTrap wrote about the popularity of Steam in China and how it's the only platform which hasn't been hit by Chinese censors.Chen Guanpeng’s game Booth is a perfect example of the kind of fascinating and idiosyncratic games that have been able to emerge in this market.

Set in a dystopian world grappling with dire food scarcity, the game casts the player as a food inspector stuck in an isolated booth, checking food products being imported along a conveyor belt into their country. Your only escape from the daily grind of work is the relationships you can form with the three different girls who deliver meals to you, but you later discover that even your personal interactions with them are being used as a method of control and surveillance by your government. It’s not a perfect game, but it’s a truly interesting one with a compelling story invested with player choice.For Fanbyte, Jocelyn Monahan wrote about the growth of Final Fantasy XIV roleplaying venues.To Chihaya, who runs a tavern called the Inkwell, regulars are the part that’s “worth the effort to keep going.” Like the Gin Ironic, the Inkwell is a comfy spot with its own set of quirks: they regularly host a fight night and have a bartender with an unfortunate tendency to set things on fire. Talon feels similarly; regulars are what keep them open every single evening. While both players acutely feel the stress of running a venue &NoBreak;— as Talon says, it’s “mentally taxing”&NoBreak; — it’s the persistent communities they’ve built that keep them going.For Real Life Mag, Tony Tulathimutte wrote about how Clash Rules Everything Around Them.

So the most interesting thing about Clash isn’t how it’s an allegory for late capitalism. (Isn’t everything? Isn’t that the point?) It’s that Clash makes especially clear how everything is interchangeable under such a system. Time is life is work is death is money is property is time. Technology fuzzes the distinction between real and virtual. Like almost every game with a death mechanic, the true currency of Clash isn’t virtual gold but actual time. Dying in a game forces you to waste your time trying again, “spending” part of your limited lifespan on a failed effort. Money can help you enjoy your time in the game more, but there’s no changing that every session brings you five minutes, a hundred thousand coins, and dozens of deaths closer to your death.

For The Art Newspaper, José da Silva wrote about how museums are stepping up exhibition design.Will Guthrie, the lead architect for the show, explains that each gallery for the exhibition was designed to be a different size—”we had points of compression and decompression”—and offer a distinctive environment to reflect the shifts in Lange’s body of work and the narrative of her life. For example, the first room reflected Lange’s early life and was painted a dark green, with domestic details like skirting boards, and a cut-out into the next gallery mimicking a window on the outside world.

The latter was inspired by a story Lange told—her “epiphany”, Guthrie calls it—when she was running a photography studio in San Francisco. Looking out of the window, she saw an unemployed man as the Great Depression began to show on the streets of the city. She grabbed her camera and took to the street to photograph him, thus beginning her remarkable career.To round things off, People Make Games spoke to those who worked on the Mass Effect 3 endings which drew huge backlash at the time.Music this week is Major Happy by Fred V & Grafix. Here's the YouTube link and Spotify link. Psyching myself up for Forza Horizon 5's Hospital Records radio station with this DnB delight. I dare you to read the YouTube comments while it's playing and not shed a tear, good luck.That's me. Have a solid Sunday everyone!

Rock, Paper, Shotgun · October 24, 2021

#today news #news updates #news today #gamesnews

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thejoaustralia · 2 years ago

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Conveyor Manufacturers Australia

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jakstimber · 4 years ago

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Engineered timber flooring, also known as engineered wood, synthetic wood, mass timber, man-made timber, or engineered board, contains a whole range of composite wood products that are made by bonding or attaching the individual strands together. In other words, engineered timber flooring is simply timber boards that have been "fixed" together. This provides added strength and durability to a floor, as well as a smooth surface. Engineered timber flooring is very cost-effective compared with other types of engineered flooring products.

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Installing engineered timber flooring is not only a professional job, but it can be a very detailed and involved process. The layers of product you will receive will be put on a conveyor belt system, where they will be slid down into place one after another. After the top layer of floors has been installed, the remainder will be installed one layer at a time. At no point are layers of flooring installed concurrently. The top layer and bottom layer of floors must be laid first, followed by any layer of padding, then the main panel and deck, then any sidings, and finally the finished floor.

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The engineered timber flooring planks are laid on top of the original floorboards. A skirting board will then be installed to each plank to help them adhere to the floor. Skirting boards can be glued directly onto the floor or pre-applied with a special epoxy glue. Once the boards are in place, the remaining layer of the wood flooring is installed. It is important to use strong wood glue for the epoxy glue and skirting boards.

The engineered timber flooring planks are set on top of a concrete subfloor. This costs less than installing a wooden subfloor because the concrete is a better quality than wood. An additional advantage of the concrete subflooring is that it requires less maintenance and can be installed in less time than some other types of flooring. Installing this type of flooring is a great way to improve the look and the function of any room in your home.

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duratufproducts1 · 7 months ago

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rainbowsend-jm · 4 years ago

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Chapter 1

The first time I got on a plane was the last time I saw my mother. I was a bundle of confusion and nerves as a man I had never met before held my hand and guided me down a balmy, seemingly endless hallway leading into a flying metal bird. My heart hammered against my ribcage as I set foot inside. A young woman with skin the color of bone and platinum blonde hair greeted us in a language I couldn’t understand. After looking at the tickets in the man’s hand, she pointed to our seats. The man nodded at her and told me to walk ahead.

Once we sat down, he showed me how to fasten my seatbelt and asked me if I wanted anything from the bag before he stored it over our heads. I shook my head. Even with my coat on, my skin prickled from the air conditioner. While I was normally a very outspoken seven-year-old, being in such an unfamiliar place stifled my words. Suddenly overwhelmed with nerves, I looked up at the man and asked for my María cookies just before he stored my bag. He opened my pink and blue backpack, the one I had covered with yellow and orange star stickers on the outside to patch the holes and pulled out a small golden cylinder. I took it from his hands, whispering a thank you before I carefully peeled the top of the packaging. After I took a bite, I looked out the window at the people loading the bags outside, counting each bag as it was thrown on the conveyor belt. I didn’t know the numbers beyond 30, so whenever I reached it, I started again.

When I left my house hours earlier, my mother hadn’t said anything about where I was going or why she wasn’t coming with us. Mami didn’t like questions, especially from me. She got angry when I asked too many and when mami got mad, she didn’t look at me or make any food. She told me I didn’t deserve anything from her because I had upset her. She acted differently when I washed the dishes, especially when I scrubbed the pots clean of all the concón that had stuck to the bottom; she always stroked my hair when I took out the trash or when I brought home a good report card from school.

I figured she would join us later at the church because she had told me to wear my prettiest dress; the one I wore to the Christmas service a few months before. It was the most beautiful thing I owned, and I loved it almost as much as I loved my storybooks. I didn’t care that Glenda, Doña Margarita’s mean daughter, had owned it first or that mami had told me I was going to burn in hell because I couldn't stop smiling at my reflection in the mirror, twirling over and over so I could see the bubble effect the skirt created. Every other dress I had was itchy and didn’t fit well. But this one, this one was red velvet and it felt soft against my hands. I had on white tights and shiny black shoes. Who cares if it made me so hot, I thought I would faint? Every time I put that dress on, I felt beautiful.

Mami had tied the bow in the back then turned me around by the shoulders, gripping me tight. She had worn her favorite dress, white and tight on her body, and had put on make-up that made her copper skin glow. Her brown hair was loose instead of being in tightly wrapped around her head in a tubi. I wondered if I would ever grow up to be as pretty as she was, though I believed I had a fair chance since our hair and skin were the same color. She brushed my hair back. Her amber eyes looked strange, like she had been crying all day again.

“Pórtate bien.”

“Si, señora.”

She didn’t say good-bye or even look at me as I got in the car. It was a nicer car than mami’s, especially because it had air conditioner which was a welcome relief in this hot night. Through the window, I saw Doña Margarita standing in her porch across the street, her eyes on mami. She looked unhappy, disapproving like she usually did when mami came home late from work. I followed her gaze. Mami kissed the man on the mouth, holding him tightly, and he let himself be kissed. He took her hands off him shortly after and got in the car with me.

As the car lurched forward, I looked at her through the back window, seeing her already small figure get smaller and smaller as the car drove away. I grew confused as we sped past our neighborhood church but didn’t dare ask anything. I thought then that we were going to a fancy party in Casa de Campo, the resort where mami worked. I had never gone to a party before. The man didn’t say anything, and I kept quiet the entire ride.

Now the people walking into the plane were fewer and fewer and I had finished all my cookies but mami still wasn’t here.

“Is mami coming?” I asked in English, my voice small.

“No.”

I was grateful he spoke English. Since I could remember, Mami had made sure all the movies and cartoons that I saw were in English. She said it was the best way to learn the language and to get a good pronunciation so nobody would tease me.

“Where are we going?”

The man kept his eyes ahead, looking at the people that boarded as they got into their seats.

“Salzburg, though first we stop in Frankfurt.”

“Where is Salzburg?”

“In Austria.”

The only countries I knew were my own, along with Puerto Rico, Haiti, Cuba, Jamaica and the United States. I didn’t know where Austria was, but it had to be far if we were on a plane to get there. I tightened my hold on the hem of my dress, rubbing the fabric over and over with my thumb. For a second, I wish mami was here. She wasn’t a source of comfort, but her anger and La Romana were all I had ever known. Why wasn’t she here with me? Why did she let me go with this foreigner? When would I go home? Was she sending me away because I hadn’t washed the dishes this morning?

“Why isn’t mami coming?” I said.

“Because she isn’t.”

It didn’t make sense. Was it because mami did not like planes?

Another woman dressed in navy approached our seats and asked us something in the same rough, chopped language I heard when we walked inside. She smiled at me, apparently waiting for an answer. All I could do was stare at her striped scarf. It looked like candy canes. The man answered in my stead in the same language. The lady pressed her hand against her chest, looking at me with a mix of pity and amusement before walking away.

“What did she say?”

“She asked if you wanted something to drink. I told her no. I don’t want you going to the bathroom until we are flying.”

“Is that the language you speak in Austria?”

He nodded.

“Will I have to learn it?”

“Only if you want to understand what people say to you.”

I did want to learn only I didn’t know if I could. I wished then I had something to hug, a doll or plush toy, anything soft. However, mami had never bought me neither of those things. She had said then I didn’t need anything beyond clothes, food, and God.

“Didn't Zuleika tell you who I am?” the man asked me suddenly, saying mami’s name with mild annoyance.

Why would mami tell me who he is? Mami didn’t really tell me anything. She just expected me to do my chores and behave. In fact, she always got upset when I asked her too many questions. It never occurred to me to ask her who this man was. I figured he was her friend. She never let me leave the house with anyone she didn’t know. But now… now I was afraid. What would happen to me? The fear threaded itself through my chest. I tucked my feet under me, trying to feel safe. I ventured a glance of the man seated next to me. He was staring. He hadn’t smiled once since I met him, but he didn’t look like a bad guy. I hoped he wasn’t a bad guy.

I shook my head.

His brows furrowed. “My name is Simon Rizek, Mariabella. I am your father.”

For the first time since we had left my house, I looked directly at him. His blond, ashen hair was cut neatly, and the shadow of a beard was already visible. He looked pale, like he had never been to a beach in his life. I had so many questions. Where had he been all this time? Why hadn’t I ever seen him before? Why did mami yell at me to be quiet and then cry every time I asked about him? Why did it take so long for him to come get me? Searching his face for something I could recognize, I noticed his eyes then, the color of shiny olives, just like mine.

“Is that why you’re taking me to Austria?”

“Yes.”

“Am I going to live with you?”

“As long as you don’t get into any trouble and remain useful,” he said as he turned his gaze towards the front once again, “you will always have a home with me.”

Useful? I frowned. I didn’t understand what he could mean by that. Were all fathers like that? Everything I thought a father should be I had learned from watching ‘A Little Princess’ after school. All this time I had hoped my father had been lost in a war somewhere far away where he had forgotten about me and that once he remembered, he would come to save me from my Miss Minchin, my mother. He would take me away and we would live happily ever after in a big house full of dolls and books. Now here he was, flesh and blood and without any war scars that I could see.

“What should I call you?”

“Papa.”

Just like Sara, I thought.

If he was really my father, I didn’t want him to treat me like mami did. I didn’t want him to yell at me when I didn’t take the chicken out of the freezer in the morning or yank my hair because I forgot to water the flowerpots in the front porch. Maybe, if I did my chores, he would buy me a new dress, one that wasn’t owned before by a girl who hated me. Maybe, if I didn’t make him mad, he would love me. I wanted someone to love me; I wanted to feel loved more than I wanted to eat.

“Do you love me?” I said.

He remained silent for some time before turning to look at me.

“Does Zuleika love you?”

I didn’t know. She said she did, but I didn’t believe her. I shrugged.

“Then why do you need me to love you?”

“Because you’re my papa,” I said, my heart fluttering because of what I called him.

“I am your papa, Mariabella, but that doesn’t mean I love you right away. What have you done to deserve love?” he said, his eyes on me.

I frowned, not knowing what to say. I wondered what Sara had done to make Captain Crewe love her like he did. But maybe ‘A Little Princess’ had been wrong all along. Maybe fathers don’t love their daughters just because, just like mothers don’t love their daughter just because. After all, mami said she loved me, but she didn’t come with us. Mami said she loved me, but she cried when she looked at me. Mami said she loved me, but then she didn’t when I couldn’t figure out what she wanted me to do. Why did I need love? Why did I think I was emptier without it? Was it because of the movies? Or the books? All I knew about love I had learned from mami and mami’s love didn’t feel good. It didn’t feel right, like a shoe placed on the wrong foot.

“All love does is weaken you,” he said as he closed his eyes and he settled his head against the headrest.

One of the ladies with the navy-blue dresses closed the door. The disembodied voice of a man came from above, speaking in that strange language I would have to learn. As the plane raced down the runway, tears suddenly slid down my cheeks. Panic pressed against my chest as I struggled not to make a sound. I didn’t want to wake him. I gripped the seat as we soared through the night sky, whispering a prayer to the Virgin Mary so she would spare me if the plane fell.

We kept climbing and I dared to look outside the window as I left behind all I had ever known. The tears didn’t stop as I tried in vain to figure out why mami had sent me away. Was she still angry that I had taken an extra-long nap after sweeping our backyard and had forgotten to give Doña Margarita the sazón she made? Did she notice that I took her cellphone when she was showering to play a video game? What could I do to make her forgive me and let me come back home?

The flight attendant from before returned and realized I was crying. She told me in English that her name was Annika and she told me not to cry, that the plane was perfectly safe. I couldn’t articulate the reason for my tears, so I just nodded, relieved that someone else above papa spoke English. She brought me water and vanilla ice cream with warm, buttery chocolate chip cookies from the front. I ate it all, shivering as I tried to catch my breath between the tears. After I had tired myself out, Annika took me to the bathroom so I could wash my face and pee. She then handed me my backpack from where papa had stored it, along with a blanket and a kit that contained a coloring book, colored pencils, a puzzle, lots of stickers, playing cards, and other interesting things. I thanked her and she smiled at me before walking up the long aisle. I busied myself counting stars, coloring or reading my books. I added new stickers to my backpack. I thought of mami and I wondered if she was thinking of me, too. Would she regret what she did and get on another plane to come pick me up? I must’ve fallen asleep because when I opened my eyes, the sun colored the sky pink. Annika returned with a tray with a fruit plate and a bread shaped like a crescent with butter on the side. I nibbled at the bread.

Papa didn’t wake up until we landed in Frankfurt. I cried when I waved goodbye to Annika, her kindness a balm I so desperately needed. If papa noticed, he didn’t say.

After a shorter plane ride, we finally landed in Salzburg, a land with no palm trees and thick with snow. I was numb from the cold and the terrible grief that I couldn’t articulate. Nothing looked familiar here. Not the trees, not the streets, not the shiny cars, not the people with their light-colored hair and skin, not the large mountains that wrapped around the city. Even the sky looked different, the blue not as bright.

Most of all, I was exhausted and unnerved by his silence. He only broke it to explain how far the bus stop was from his home (not very far) and how his neighbors were an elderly couple, Mr. and Mrs. Haas and that I was not to disturb them. The house wasn’t too far from the airport. It was a wooden cottage next to a large farm, surrounded by orchards and meadows. Next to the entrance, there was a tree as tall as the second floor of the cottage. Instead of leaves, its branches were covered with clumps of snow.

When he opened the car door for me, I got out and looked around me, searching for anything familiar. Snow smothered every inch of land with its mantle. I stepped forward, noticing how it swallowed my footsteps as if it was trying to devour all of me. Suddenly my red velvet dress and my thin white stockings were not warm enough. The snow soaked my legs and snuck into my bones. I looked down, taking note how my white stockings matched it and how it surrounded us, quiet and unyielding. I wanted to tell papa that I didn’t like this place, that it was too quiet, that I wanted mami, but his anger was not one I was familiar with and I didn’t want to meet it so soon. If he threw me out of the house the way mami did whenever her anger took over, I couldn’t just walk over to the colmado to wait until he calmed down.

Were there even colmados in Salzburg?

Slowly, the realization that I had nowhere else to go dawned on me. I closed my eyes, wishing I could dissolve into the snow and have the wind carry me back home.

“Virgencita, please,” I whispered once more to the Virgin Mary, hoping she was still listening even if I was far away, asking her grace me with an instant miracle.

“Mariabella,” I heard papa behind me, his voice anchoring my dissipating spirit to the ground. “Come inside.”

I opened my eyes to the disappointment that I was still corporeal.

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ourb2bworld-blog · 6 years ago

Link

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toldnews-blog · 6 years ago

Photo

New Post has been published on https://toldnews.com/business/how-a-chinese-firm-fell-victim-to-intellectual-property-theft/

How a Chinese firm fell victim to intellectual property theft

Image caption Frank Liu says his company Intco was the victim of intellectual property theft

There was no break in, no hold up. No glass was smashed. But the factory on the outskirts of Shanghai was the scene of a very modern crime. Someone stole a hoard of intellectual property.

“A couple of years ago one of my IT managers copied ten thousand pages of my entire company’s profile,” Frank Liu told me. His company Intco has been around for 25 years.

He told me the stolen download included “our technology information, our customer list, our purchasing and supply information. Everything.”

Intco is a business that makes medical devices, skirting boards and photo frames. I visited its offices at a business park in Shanghai, and a factory that sits either side of a tree-lined road south of the city.

The company recycles polystyrene waste sent to China from all over the world. Then, using heat moulding and imprinting techniques, it turns it into an array of products which end up on the floors of houses in Brazil or Russia, or hanging on walls displaying photos in the US and Britain.

“We actually have the record of how he stole it,” Mr Liu told me. “He just sold it to establish another company, as his investment.”

Mr Liu feels he has no recourse. He told me he went to the police but nothing happened. He said he still intends to pursue it.

His story is increasingly common here, for both local businesses and foreign firms.

Top officials from the US and China will hold their next round of trade talks this week and protecting intellectual property (IP) is a key demand for Washington. They argue American and other foreign companies in China have endured decades of theft and infringement.

Reacting to pressure

China has taken some steps to address the problem. The country only established copyright laws in the 1980s, but things have progressed relatively quickly since then.

China now has specialist IP courts, albeit – like every aspect of the judicial system – subservient to the ruling Communist Party. They are supposed to settle cases within 12 to 18 months.

Their creation was not due solely to outside pressure from foreign firms.

Chinese business figures like Mr Liu have also called for the country’s legal system to better protect the innovators and entrepreneurs who have turned China into much more than the “copycat” economy it was once labelled.

Benjamin Qiu, an IP lawyer with US law firm Loeb & Loeb, told me that the Chinese are now just as litigious as foreign firms.

Foreign firms are just as likely to win a case – a good case, Mr Qiu added – as domestic plaintiffs. In the past few years Lego and New Balance have both won high-profile cases against copycat manufacturers.

There is no doubt that the trade war with the US has sped up the pace of reform in China.

Image copyright Getty Images

President Xi Jinping recently led lawmakers, at their annual gathering in Beijing, in approving new rules for foreign investors.

The Foreign Investment Law states that the transfer of technology from foreign investors to any domestic partner must be voluntary. China has always defended this highly contentious practice by insisting it’s part of an agreed commercial arrangement.

The new law also bars government officials from passing on details of foreign investors IP.

A new era?

Now though comes the hard part – enforcement.

Mr Qiu told me the next step is “detailed regulation coming out after this law, and we want to see actual cases in local courts and also from enforcement agencies.”

If that follows, then he thinks “potentially the foreign IP owners will have more to protect [them] in China.”

Both the EU and American Chambers of Commerce welcomed the new law, but both also criticised what they said was ambiguity in the legislation. The Americans also had concerns that it was rushed through without proper consultation.

Many foreign companies have been stung over the years in China. Most have found the lure of the massive market, or what was once rock bottom labour costs, irresistible.

Some though feel the risk is too high.

A fruit industry executive recently told me his firm wanted to buy new conveyor belts for their farms in China, but the European manufacturers said no. They feared their systems would be copied here, and they’d be wiped out.

Mr Liu can’t do that. He is Chinese and wants to stay in China. But he has taken steps to try to prevent another IP theft.

Image caption Production line used to create photo frames at an Intco factory in Shanghai

He is chief executive of the company he founded, but this year he told me he’s changing his title to include head of research and development. Because he can’t trust anyone else with the firms’ commercial secrets.

Protecting original ideas, techniques and information in China – “it’s a human right” he told me.

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