Carlos Hardy - The B Gene: If You Have It, They Will Find You

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ISBN: 9781543978070

I have always known about my vivid imagination. I would write short stories, plays and skits as a child. My siblings would be the clay and I would mold them into any character I could conceive in my mind. As a kid I used writing as an escape from the harsh streets of Flint, MI. I would find solace in the characters, the story and the possibility of where I could take them. I used my imagination to give myself a better life on the inside even if the outside looked bleak. I write because of the journey, not the destination. I hope you feel the passion on each page and the fire that burns through each characters soul. This is my take on whats to come in 2025. Some may say its farfetched or even crazy. You have to absolutely wonder whats in store for us in the future. I thank you for purchasing this book, onward and upward.

Years after Calebs encounter with the burning light, it was finally time to live the dream. Hed learned just about everything anyone could ever hope to know about HBCU Lanier Brown University. Caleb could tell you that it was built on a deserted navy base about forty miles north of the White House, that in the late 1930s, the FBI was rumored to have used it as a second home to develop cutting-edge technology.

Lanier was in the heart of Connor, Washington, a college town with a population of 100,000. While the university is small, it was growing rapidly, attracting some 20,000 students from across the globe, most of which were African-American. Every student that arrived on the doorsteps of Lanier felt a sense of pride, a sense of belonging. They were equally excited to be a part of the legacy of one of the most historic black colleges in America, though the humidity in this 88 degree day attempted to stifle their elation.

They all begin to exit their chaperoned vehicles, each smiling with excitement, heads filled with thoughts of how they would positively impact the world. Excitement came with worry; the fear of something new, the change that it brings. The universitys colorful logo was emblazoned on their backpacks and laptop cases, their shirts and hats, matching the bright turn of autumn leaves all around them, covering the streets and sidewalks.

Parents begin to exit their cars, bright-eyed and filled with pride, lugging along their teens suitcases. They could easily make out the returning class, a group of male students glaring and taunting the new meat to the school with hand gestures to the crotch.

Members of the prominent PHI Delta fraternity parade down the sidewalk in unison, stomping and chanting to the rhythm of the song on the nearby loudspeaker system.

A green sedan pulls out in from of Targart hall, where students with the most elite academic scores reside. Targart showcases lavished furnishings accompanied by every amenity known to man. Large bedrooms, bathrooms and living quarters, elegant designs along the ceilings that are nearly 100 years old.

That sedan pulls up right in front of the main entrance, and the passenger door swings wide open. A pair of orange Nikes hit the pavement, as a blaring voice lifts, echoing throughout the front hall. Were here!

Caleb stands in the path leading to the main entrance, headphones around his neck, and an athletic sling-style backpack thrown over one shoulder. In this moment, he feels nothing but pride. Caleb touches the back of his neck over a tattoo, a simple design of the numbers 1600, a gift from his father for the hard work that all led to this day. His brown eyes dart from building to building, taking in the architecture and careful construction of every aesthetic element.

Yes! Caleb says, filled with excitement. His head curiously pokes back through the opened passenger window. Dad, this is where I belong.

Mr. Prescott turns towards his son. Cal, you are the third in a line of Prescott men to attend an HBCU.

Caleb opens the door and hops back into the passenger seat, barely able to contain his elation. Dad, I know. Who would have thought, me attending an HBCU?

Its not too far-fetched, son. Its not every day one gets to decline an invite from Harvard.

With both hands, Caleb cradles his fathers anxiety-stricken face. Dad, you dont get it.

Mr. Prescott respond with a warm smile, his hand laying on his sons shoulder. Cal, you have a purpose.

I get it, Dad. Caleb could feel another one of his fathers cautionary talks approaching. I get it. I promise: no partying, only studying.

Yeah right! Jaylen Mclean shouts from the backseat, startling the two of them. Look Mr. Prescott, we fought tooth and nail to get here. Lets say we let our hair down. Mr. Prescott disappointingly yields his attention at Jaylen. What? Go with the flow. Facts.

Jaylen, get out of my car. Mr. Prescott says very matter-of-fact.

Im out, he chuckled, pulling on the door lever.

Caleb and Jaylen have been best friends for fifteen years. While they were both smart as a whip, they each had vastly different personalities. Jaylen had the stunning attributes that always seemed to make the ladies swoon: smooth dark skin, light chocolate-colored eyes, and a seemingly perfect head of hair that he always kept in check. While Caleb wanted to make his father happy, he also admired Jaylens sarcasm, even if it means always getting the last word, which would land him in trouble. Jaylen drags his suitcase from the backseat, pops his earbuds in, and slams the door shut.

Dad, Ill be okay. Caleb says calmly.

Mr. Prescott peers around Caleb, looking to Jaylen dancing on the sidewalk. Its not you Im worried about, son. Call if you need anything.

Of course Dad, you got me.

Caleb embraces his father. Mr. Prescotts eyes close, remembering the exact same moment he shared with his father twenty-five years ago.

I love you, Cal.

Dad, I know, I know. Caleb quickly releases his grip, and takes a deep breath before exiting the car. After exiting, he feels a heaviness in his lungs as he walks away. His shoulders slump, and he turns back to look at his father. Mr. Prescott cant seem to look away. Caleb holds his emotions intact, waving as the green sedan exits the parking lot.

You smell that, Cal? Jaylen says, his hand on Calebs shoulder.

Caleb puts his nostrils to the sky, searching for a scent. I dont smell anything, he replies.

Freedom bro. Complete freedom. Jaylen nudges him on the shoulder, and within seconds, Calebs phone starts to ring.

He quickly looks at the caller ID, and rolls his eyes. After a deep exhale, he picks it up. Hey Grandma. Im safe at school.

Are you watching the news? She asks rather abruptly.

No Granny, we just got to campus. Caleb motions towards Jaylen to grab the bags and approaches the entrance.

Turn on the news. Now.

Granny, why you bugging?

Because the devil is at work, she says, her voice panic-stricken and heightened. And we are all targets.

Caleb sighs, preparing to try and sound as nice as possible.

Calm down, Granny. The reception is bad. He tries to replicate a high-pitched buzzing sound with his voice. Im heading into a tunnel. Hello? Ill call you later.

Caleb Vincent Prescott, dont play with me. Caleb quickly ends the call, and shoves his phone back into his pocket.