Mr. Houston

At the age of 6, Courtney Jackson was stripped from his family and put into a secret government agenda to be trained to take on special missions as a "ghost"--as if he doesn't really exist in the system. When he becomes a teen, he rebels and leaves setting a new trend for the other kids who also find their own ways to leave after hi and use the skills they have learned throughout the years to help people in their everyday life. Everything is as "normal" as it can be when issues start arising bringing Courtney back to his past.



                He looked down at the patriotic lights. Red. White. And blue. The police didn’t deserve to flash such hues. The random people gathering to see what was going on as white lights flashed up. They were taking pictures. Idiots.

                He looked back at the man.

                “I can fix all of this.” He said to the man. “I’ll head there tonight and clear your name.”

                The man turned his face but kept his gaze forward on the ground.

                “Swear to me.” The man said voice shaking.

                The police shouting something from their speakers below.

                “—and step away from the edge!”

                “I’ve helped every other client successfully. Why would I stop now?” Courtney replied.

                The man stared at Courtney. Did he believe him? He stood up at the edge of the building. Courtney got his feet adjusted just in case he needed to jump. The man lifted his right leg. The humid air was tense and Courtney watched as another bead of sweat dropped a hundred feet down.

                He looked back at the man who immediately took a step. Backwards. His other foot joined the first onto the more stable part of the building.

                Courtney went to him.

                “You’ll really help me?” The man asked.

                “Trust me.” Courtney assured him. “Before your alarm can ring in the morning, you’ll be safe.”

                That was a promise.

                “All I ask is that you tell no one details about what happened. And if anyone asks, you don’t know me.”

                The man nodded.

                The roof handle jiggled and the police dove in yelling orders.

                The man looked around and realized that other than the police, he stood alone on the roof. He looked at the edge of the roof again as if reconsidering.


                An hour after midnight struck and Courtney was at the address that was given to him. He walked to the door and observed it for a second and realized that there was no security on the door. He welcomed himself in and walked into the dark space. He headed for the hall leading to the rooms but stopped abruptly when he noticed a small round device hanging on the right wall.

                Blink. Blink. Blink.

                The hall had a motion detector.

                It was quickly made useless along with any other technological devices with the use of a jammer Courtney had brought along.

                He walked down the hall silently despite his size-fourteen, stereotypical big black feet. He headed towards the first room and grabbed the door handle. The dried super glue at the tips of his fingers were rough and uncomfortable. He pulled the door open.

                Upon finding and entering the laptop, he began to work his magic. His firm fingertips tapping soundless on the keyboard. He finished and put the laptop back where he had found it.

                Before your alarm can ring in the morning, you’ll be safe.

                His promise was kept. 

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