The Ideas

The Ideas

Ideas, they can’t be bought, they can’t be stolen, and they can’t be earned but the vessel for them can be. So what happens when your ideas for revolutionary inventions are lost?

Monica had just won a major science and technology competition. The first place felt good for the 3rd year in a row, the only difference was the money. To a black girl from a third-world country, winning your first ten thousand dollars prize competition is enough to make anyone shed a tear or two.

The runner-ups gave it their best, from a robotic plant that could turn carbon dioxide into oxygen more efficiently to a robot that could assist firefighters and cops. But Monica created the first batch of nanobots that could infiltrate the body and cure diseases like cancer, AIDS, and tuberculosis. She beamed as she was handed a huge check with the five-figure reward she earned. She walked off the stage where her dad and teacher, Ms. Kira, were celebrating. She ran into the open arms of her dad who had the biggest smile on his face.

- “Felisitasyon pitit mwen!” the dad yelled in Creole, congratulating his daughter as he embraced her with his big arms.

- “Do you think Manman would have been proud?” she said with a faint frown.

- “Are you kidding me? I don’t think a single cheer would have been louder than that woman’s,” her dad shouts wanting to wipe the frown off of her daughter’s face.

Ten years ago her mom had died in a massive earthquake in their home country of Haiti. They moved to the US right after and have been trying to make a life for themselves ever since, but when you move with nothing but the passports in your hands and the clothes on your back, nothing comes easy. The first year they moved, for Monica’s birthday her dad, Jean-Robert, got her a notebook and a red pen, her favorite color, and ever since any idea the smart seven-year-old had were sketched in that book, but all the great ideas were put into a little black book. The first time she entered the competition it was her teacher who paid for the entry fee and for the material needed to make the project. The other children had lemon batteries and baking soda volcanoes. Her first ever project blew the judges away. It was a model on a new way to apply aerodynamics to make both a plane and a car faster. She won her first five thousand dollars and made a new friend, Ms. Kira. Though she didn’t always win first place, the ideas never stopped coming. And all her special projects like the nanobots went into that small black book. She never went anywhere without it. Even if she forgot her phone, or computer at home she always had that book and she planned to keep it that way.

“What are we doing with this check?” Monica asks.

“Same thing we did with the others. We’ll put in a bank account for you to go to college,” her dad answers

“I still feel like we could use it to pay off some taxes and ...,” she hinted before she is interrupted by her dad.

“Monica kalme w,” he begins, meaning to calm her down, “we are not having this discussion again. The one wish your mother had was to send you to a good school, to get the education we never had. As your father, it is my responsibility to make sure you achieve that goal.”

“Yeah but…” she tries to argue.

“Ase tifi!” Monica lets it go as she knows that she will be grounded if she continues. Just then a man walks towards them.

“Nice job today, what is this your second win in a row?” the man says.

“Third,” Monica replies.

“I’m sorry, do we know you?'' the father asks.

“Umm, no, but I know Monica. You’ve had some amazing ideas that could save countless lives. Our company wants to buy those ideas. They also wanted to give you this.” The man hands Monica an envelope with a check for twenty thousand dollars inside.

“But she hasn't even accepted yet,” Ms. Kira points out as she and Monica’s dad step in front of Monica.

“Yes, but this one is just a symbol of our gratitude for all she has done,” the man explains.

“Deal!” Monica accepts shocking both Ms. Kira and her father.

“Perfect.” They trade contact information and then the man walks away.

“We’ll be in touch,” the man adds

“Monica, are you sure?” the dad asks concerned.

“Yeah, we need the money and I would be doing this anyway after college, so…”

“Ok, let’s not kill the mood, what do you say we go for ice cream?” Ms. Kira says.

They all headed out to Joe's ice cream, Monica’s favorite ice cream place, and spent the night laughing over whose flavor tastes better.

The next morning Monica woke up with a minor stomach ache from all the caramel swirl she had and an email from the same guy she met yesterday. It read, “I hope to see you at the meeting tomorrow. So excited to learn what you come up with.”

Monica smiled as she closed the computer and went to get ready for school.

“Monica, breakfast is ready,” her father calls, putting an egg sandwich on her plate. This is the first time in a long time that they can enjoy breakfast this expensive and fresh. They had to eat microwave egg and cheese bagels last week but now that her dad has a more stable job working as a security guard, she can eat stuff like this.

The bus honks outside as she finishes the sandwich.

“Bye dad, love you!” she yells, heading out the door.

“Love you too,” the dad replies.

She gets on the bus.

“Hey Frank, how was your weekend?” she asks as she sits in the first row.

“Not that bad, the fellas and I watched the game. How was yours?”

“Oh you know, same old, same old,” she voices pulling out her black book deciding which of these inventions she was gonna present to the company buying her ideas. She glides by a few pages and she flips through plans for a fusion reactor, a rocket with a clean source of fuel, a submarine that can withstand huge amounts of pressure, and even rocket boots. She looks past them and decides they were old, not good enough, and pulls out her pen, staring out the window waiting for inspiration to strike. The bus ride was fifteen minutes and already she had two brand new ideas. The first one was a rocket car that could exceed the speed of sound and the second... well the second a trackless train. She puts the book in her bag and gets on her way to class. Today she had a field trip to a science museum with Ms. Kira.

“Hey, Monica. How are you?” smiles Ms. Kira.

“Hey Ms. Kira, I’m fine!” She relents a smile and takes a seat in the front.

The rest of the class comes in at the sound of the bell and split into their friend groups. Everyone is laughing and joking as they wait for Ms. Kira to let them know to get ready for the field trip. Everyone had a smile on their face, all, except Monica, who had her nose in her notebook, trying to pop new ideas to life.

“ You have to come out of your bubble at some point Monica,” Ms. Kira whispers, having made her way gingerly to her side.

“I… I don’t think the other kids would be interested in the same stuff as me,” Monica exhales into the book not picking up her eyes.

“ What about Natasha and her friends? They like to talk about chemistry and engineering.”

Felling subjected, Monica closes her book, gets up and makes her way to the back of the class where Natasha and her friends sat. She overhears one of Natasha’s friends, Amy, talking about a project that she wants to showcase at the next science and technology competition.

“I can’t find the right way to bond these two elements together.”

Monica sees her chance to interact.

“You're using the wrong bonding agent,” she offers, standing six feet away from the others, scared that they might bite her.

She takes an extra step back.

“ Elaborate,” the other friend, Lucy, elicits, pulling a chair out for Monica.

“All I’m saying is, hydrogen and lithium are okay and all but if you want a sustained bonding use carbon.”

The girls talk for ten minutes comparing notes and talking about some of their other ideas for their showcase. Before they know it the bus arrives and picks them up. The entire trip they talk about new ideas. Monica even shows them some of hers. She actually makes new friends. It had been so long since she had this long interaction with other people who understood what she was saying. They talk the entire trip, when Monica reaches home she is tired and goes straight to bed.

The next morning, Monica awakes, ready for the interview. Her heart was racing, her dad will finally be able to live more comfortably, her ideas are finally being recognized by big companies. She reaches into her bag with a big smile on her face. The smile slowly fades as she rummages through her bag, the little black book isn’t there. She panics, she tries to remember where she might have left it. Ms. Kira’s class? The school bus she went on the field trip in? The one she went to school in? Then it hits her. The museum! Monica breaks down. A few minutes go by and her dad realizes Monica has not come down for breakfast. He worries that she might have overslept.

“ Monica, sa wap fe la?” her dad inquires.

He finds his daughter in one of the corners of the room.

“Kika?” her nickname, “Sa w’ genyen?” the dad asks softly from the door wanting to know what was wrong. The young girl lifts her head, her eyes full of tears.

“Papa,” she vents with true sadness filling her voice, “I can’t find my book, all the things I have ever invented are in that book.”

Her dad comes into the room and sits on the bed.

“Do you remember the day you got that book? You were so happy. The first thing you drew in it was an uh...,” he snaps his fingers trying to remember what it was called “skeleton man!” he yells out.

The daughter smiles

“Exoskeleton, Papa,” she giggles

“Yeah, yeah,” he repeats. “Remind me again, the book came with this idea right?”

“No” the daughter replies puzzled.

“And the robot man or the super fast bike?”

She shakes her head.

“Kika, my point is the ideas you have don’t come from this book.” He places his index and middle finger on her head. “They come from here.”

“I know you will be creating wonderful things long after your book runs out of pages. So get up, wipe those tears and go to school. You may be sad but I am still Haitien. You will not miss a single day of school as long as I am here,” he jokes, picking a notebook from her desk and handing it to her.

The daughter smiles.

“Thank you, Papa,” Monica says.

That day the routine changes. The bus picks her up, she greets Frank and writes in her book but when she arrives at school her new friends were waiting for her. The same day the interview happened and everything went well.

“We'll be in touch,” The man exclaims, handing her another check. For twenty thousand dollars.

“I see great things in your future, Monica.”

And she smiles.