4/28/98
I actually wrote this story almost a year ago, but in honor of Black
History Month I thought I would post it now. This is probably the first and
probably the last TG story to ever mention Harriet Tubman. As always,
enjoy.  

Spell R' Us: The Medallion Of Racial Equality By Cabinessence

      John Robinson was getting restless. He couldn't stay at home any
longer, alone with just his thoughts and personal demons.  The company that
he had worked for the past ten years, U.S. Crane Manufacturing, had just
been acquired by Rothwell Industries. There were rumors of layoffs and
massive restructuring going around as similar business units were to be
combined. He had worked long and hard to get to the position he was in
today and he didn't want to lose it.  As a young black male growing up in
the ghetto, he was ridiculed by his friends when he said he preferred math
to basketball, logarithms to rap rhythms. Yet he stuck to his guns while
many of his friends died sticking to theirs, as he rose to be a member of
the senior accounting staff at U.S. Crane. 
    He had good cause to worry this time however, the manager that was
brought over from Rothwell to oversee the transition in his department was
well known for his racial bias. He was accused two years ago in promoting a
less qualified white man over a black man who had seniority.  But there
never was enough evidence to prove that there was any racist intent on his
part in the decision. The black man was soon persuaded to take an offer
with another firm and the case was dropped.  The manager's name was Mr.
White, very fitting John thought.
    John wandered around the mall just window shopping, looking at all the
things he probably would no longer be able to afford to buy.  Right near
the J.C. Penny's he noticed a store called Spells R' Us. He had heard some
of the guys at work talking about the store, how it was a great place to
spot bimbos,  but he had never known where it was. Curious, he decided to
step inside. An old man in a robe behind the counter greeted him.

   "Hello John"  
  
   "How did you know my name?"

   "You heard about the little breeze that whispers Louise. Well there is
one that whispers John."

   Suddenly a gust of wind blew through the store whispering "John".

   "Wow."

   "So how can I help you?"

   "I don't know if you can help me. The guys at work say you deal mostly
with bimbos."

   "That is my specialty, and I have done rather well with it. You have
ever heard of the Spice Girls?"

   "That was you?"

   "Well you haven't heard of New Kids On The Block recently have you? They
came to me a while back for a new image. Of course the concept isn't that
new. Girl power can be traced all the way back to Circe in ancient Greece. 
In my mind she could be called the original Scary Spice. She coined the
phrase "All Men Are Pigs" and had it made into a bumper sticker on her
chariot.  "

   "You've been around a long time."

   "But not in this one location.  I'll can tell you this, the Babylonian
Chamber Of Commerce does a horrible job in supporting new businesses. So
what can I do for you?"

   "I work at U.S. Crane and we just got taken over. The man who is going
to be my boss, well the talk is that he is a racist and I am sure that he
will lay me off just because I am black. I just bought a new house and I
need this job."

   "Well I am sure your track record will speak for itself. Or you could
try to get on his good side. Flatter him. Of course don't do what Monica
Lewinsky did, she took sucking up to the boss too literally."

   "I don't think anything I did would change his mind."

   "Remember justice isn't blind it's just that most lawyers have studied
under Helen Keller. Well maybe I have something that will help you right
here in the shop."

   The old man reached down under the counter and pulled out a silver
medallion. It seemed to be very old. On one side was the portrait of a
black woman who looked like Harriet Tubman. On the other side was the face
of a stern middle aged white man who looked a lot like Robert E. Lee.

   "What is that?"

   "This is the Medal Of Racial Equality. It comes from the days of
slavery. It was worn by slaves to help them pave their way to freedom on
the Underground Railway."

   "What does it do?"

   "It changes the heart of any racist within a hundred yards of the
wearer. Just put it around your neck and it will make any white man with
racism in his heart learn to love and respect black men."

   "You are saying that by just wearing this, it would change Mr. White's
attitude towards me?"

  "Completely, he will feel nothing in his heart but love for the black
man, especially this black man."

  "It won't make him a bimbo or anything?"

  "Far from it, he will still retain all his managerial prowess." 

  "How much is it?"

  "Look if it works as I say, you can pay me after you get your new
promotion."

  "Promotion?"

  "You deserve it after all of your hard work and with this restructuring
there is sure to be a lot of new slots up for grabs."

   "Thanks."

   John left the shop carrying the medallion.  He took it to the office
with him but he was too afraid of what it's power might do to wear it, so
he tucked it into his briefcase.  As he was walking by Mr. White's office
on his way to his cubicle, he noticed that his door was slightly ajar and
John could hear him talking to his secretary.

   "Let's go through the list of people in the department to see where we
can make some moves. John Robinson he's the dark er.. African American who
sits two cubicles down on the left."

    " Yes, Mr. White."

    "Let me see his employment file."

    "Yes Mr. White. I will go out and get it."

     John rushed back to his cubicle before the secretary could see him as
she walked to the filing cabinets in the outer office. John was nervous, a
feeling of upcoming doom pervaded his senses. Then he remembered the
medallion in his briefcase. He opened up the case and took it out. As he
looked at it, it seemed that Harriet Tubman was smiling at him, to
encourage him on his journey up the organization.  He put it around his
neck with the Harriet Tubman side out and a glow seemed to come from it
aiming directly for Mr. White's office.
     In his office, Mr. White waited for his secretary to get John's
employment file.  He looked down and noticed a large dark stain on his
hand. He figured a pen must have leaked on him as he was signing some
documents earlier.  He got up and picked up the pitcher of water that was
on the stand near his desk. He took his handkerchief and put some water on
it and started to wipe at the dark spot. It would not come off. Instead of
it getting lighter, it was getting even darker and was spreading.  He
caught a glance of his face in the silver tray that held the pitcher and he
saw that his nose was flatter, his lips were puffier, and his hair was
becoming black, curly, and longer.  He looked at his hand and again and the
dark spot had spread to his wrists.  His mind tried to deny what was
happening, but it was all too real. He tried to get to the door to call for
help, but never made it. His world soon went black in more ways than one. 
    The phone rang in John's office. He picked it up with dread. On the
other end was the manager's secretary saying that the manager wanted to
speak to him right now. John knew exactly what that meant. He looked back
at his cube, but just couldn't say goodbye. He slowly walked down the hall
to the manager's office resigned to his fate.

    'I believe that you have met our new manager, Miss Black?" said the
secretary as she ushered him into the manager's office.

    John looked up, his mouth wide open as he looked at Miss Black.  She
was one of the most beautiful black women, no any woman he had ever seen. 
She had the body of a stripper confined by the threads of a businesswoman
and just barely.  John tried not to stare, but what male who wasn't dead
from the waste up wouldn't.   Soon the secretary excused herself and John
was left alone with his voluptuous boss.  But something still didn't seem
right.     

     "Where is Mr. White? I thought he was in charge of this department."

     "Well you know how it is when a company is in the middle of a big
reorganization as this. Things could change at any minute."

    "Oh, so what did you want to see me about?"

    "I have been reviewing your file and I was very impressed and seeing
you now I am even more impressed." She gave a smile that had the look of
the cat about ready to eat the canary without even thinking about the
calorie count.  

   "Thank you."

   "This restructuring is going to be a lot of work and I need someone who
I can work closely with." Miss Black inched closer to John until her
mountainous breasts were almost in his face. "Do you think you can handle
it?"

    "Uh uh sure." Said John with the greatest restraint.

    "Good, now I will need you to stop by my place tonight. I have some
spreadsheets there that I will need your input on.  It will be a lot of
hard work and I need a man who can keep up his end. "

    "I can keep it up, er you can count on me." Stuttered John.

    "Alright I will see you tonight at nine. Here is the address." And she
handed John a slip of paper.

    As John left the office he still was worried, but now instead of
worrying about getting laid off, he was worrying about just getting laid.

    Back in the shop the old man smiled. He had created the first black
female executive in Rothwell history. He hoped that would satisfy the 
government inspectors when they asked him about what he had done to
support affirmative action.          

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