Escaping my Life Ch. 03

Chapter 3

Senate Hearings

Senator Blackburn: (47:26 Transcript)

"Got it. Now staying with this concern of underage children, since this hearing is all about kids and about on-line privacy. I want you to tell me how MyLife is able to do Market Research on these children that are under age 13. Because Ms. Davis, she didn't deny this last week. So how are they doing this? Do they bring kids into focus groups with their parents? How do they get that permission? She said, Ms. Davis, they got permission from parents? Is there a permission slip or form that gets signed? And then how do they know which kids to target?"

Secret Whistleblower: 48:20 Transcript

"There is a bunch to unpack here. We'll start with maybe how they recruited children for focus groups, or recruit teenagers. Most tech companies have systems where they can analyze the data that is on their servers. So, most of the focus groups I read or that I saw analysis of, were around the 'MyLife Kids' programs, which has children on it. And those program groups seem to appear to have children interacting in person."

Senator Blackburn: 49:37 Transcript

"Thank you so much for shedding light on how MyLife time and time again has put profit over people. Their own research found that more than 13% of teen girls say that their subprograms made their thoughts of suicide worse. What did MyLife do? They started a modified version of the subprogram for pre-teen children." Slight pause.

"When they found out their algorithms are fostering polarization, misinformation, and hate, that they allowed 99 percent of their violent contact to remain unchecked on their platform. What did they do?" another slight pause.

"Charles their owner and founder ups and disappears on some type of extended secret vacation!"

***

And so, we continue.

"Do we have a deal, Chuck? My silence for the ride of a lifetime? It's my gamble. Maybe they will never find you. You can live out your life here in SLO paradise, with that attractive woman I saw leaving the trailer this morning? Your boss, right?" Brian continued to comment.

"My silence for the potential story of the decade?" Brian asked, hand still outstretched.

"We have a deal," Chuck regretfully agreed and shook Brian's hand.

Brian sort of raised himself up looking for the waitress and waived her over.

"Now I have an appetite." Brian commented.

"I'll go beat the bush over the next couple of days to see what ghosts are lurking. If I see something coming, I will try and give you a heads up. I would hate to see my Christmas goose swept up by the thugs of the MyLife Board."

Brain paused and looked out across the street at the train station, "Chuck, they are bad people. Ex-Russian and East block soldiers that do not have the same ethics as us. They would have you stuffed in some East European 'safe house' while you are 'persuaded' to sign over your rights as CEO and being a major stockholder."

Brian's feral smile was back. "Awfully hard for me to ride your coattails if you just vanish, never to be seen again."

*

3 months

*

Chuck had just slid under the pier at Avila Beach, following Jeanne's exit just moments before. They were now bracketed by the pier to the rear and the cliffs in front. They made the lazy turn to the left and headed for the flat rock.

The paddle was glassy and the wind almost non-existent. It felt so good just to dip a paddle and glide along wordlessly next to someone he knew he was falling in love with. He had not runaway to change himself or grow as a person, but Chuck knew deep inside that is what was happening.

All those years of being the hard-ass executive. All those years of waging war against...well against pretty much everything and everybody. He was trying to come to terms with the man he was, and the man he was now becoming.

None of it made any sense.

They silently slid past the huge white mini-island and came to the back. It was the nesting place of the local pelicans. They chirped and peeped amongst themselves becoming agitated, bobbing heads, and shuffling until they saw the invaders slide past and head for the small beach. The flock settled down and watched the humans gain distance.

Jeanne was the first to beach and he watched floating from 10 yards out as she crawled off the sit-on-top kayak. He got a great shot of her ass as she bent over to grab the bow handle in her effort to drag the kayak up the beach.

She spun and caught him just staring at her. "You going to beach your boat? Or do you want to just keep looking at my ass?" she questioned as she spun part way, bent over, pulled up her oversized hoody, and shook her butt at him.

"I could look at you all day long, Beautiful." Chuck replied. And he knew he was being honest. He could just watch her getting dressed and be entranced.

"Well get in here, I want to do something I have always fantasied about." Jeanne commented and did a squint smile she used when she felt she was being naughty.

"And what would that be beautiful?" Chuck asked as he dug his paddle in to propel the boat towards the small beach below the lighthouse.

As he felt the first bite of the beach sand on his bow, Jeanne walked up and straddled the front of his boat. He could see the cleft of her sex mirrored in the lycra shorts she wore that morning. He had a flashing thought that if the boat would magically slide up further, he could plant his lips on her mound.

It took him a second to lift his eyes from her sex to her eyes. She still held her 'naughty' smile. She bent over and placed her hands on the still floating boat. He was now enraptured by her pendulous breasts showing lots of cleavage. She slowly gave him a soft but long kiss and then whispered in his ear.

"I want you to fuck me on this beach. I want to scream out my orgasm and scare every bird off the stupid flat rock." She paused for a second to look up at all the birds staring at her, bobbing their heads, like some Disney movie.

"I want you to fill up my pussy with your warm cum. Then I am going to suck you hard again and you are going to take my ass and cum again. All out here in the open. All out here, where we may be seen. You know it's one of my fantasies and I want you now!"

Chuck almost rolled the boat trying to get out in a hurry.

Jeanne had already turned and was walking up the small sandy beach. She looked over her shoulder as she peeled off her hoody and dropped it on top of her boat.

Chuck dragged his kayak up, but kept his eye on her as she pulled off her lycra sports bra and let her breasts bounce free...and bounce they did. Her huge thick oversized nipples were hard as rock. Her areola crinkled with excitement and probably a little from the cold.

Chuck peeled off his own hoodie and watched as she shoved her hand down the front of her shorts.

Jeanne moaned and whispered, "I am so damn wet."

They had the first round standing up with her hands braced against the shaded cliff walls of the little cove. She knew he hated sand and the last thing she needed was sand shoved deep inside her. So, she had turned and bent over after discarding her lycra shorts. He was so keyed up he knew he was only going to last, at best, minutes. She felt him swell inside her and then heard his moan and then a gush of warmth deep inside her.

What she heard him moan was "I Love you."

What he moaned shocked her but brought on her own orgasm. She moaned and started to vibrate on his still hard cock. Her knees buckled and she kneeled into the sand below.

True to her word, she knee-walked around and took his still wet cock in her willing mouth. She never had liked the taste of cum, but this time she was enraptured with their combined juices. Just the taste of both, brought on either a continuation of the previous huge orgasm or a mini one of its own nature.

His hands went to her hair. He gripped her head. It was more to steady him and his wobbly knees than to force more cock in her mouth. But he heard her moan with his touch. He felt her hands on the back of his legs pulling him deeper.

After minutes of keeping him rock hard and most of their combination consumed, she stood with a smile.

"You Asshole," she commented to him, and she walked away, naked, back her kayak and grabbed her hoodie.

He was confused at first but could see she was still smiling. About that time the tone of what she said caught up with his brain. While 'asshole' was used, it was said in a lighthearted tone and manner.

Normally this interaction would have brought a lessening and softening of his appendage. But, having her bending over at her kayak and the sight of her naked, with cum dripping down her thigh, kept him rock hard.

"And what did I do to deserve being called an asshole," asked Chuck with the same playful tone.

She stood up, shoulders back bring her large breasts seemingly higher and fuller.

"Telling me that, when I am bent over getting pumped full of your cum," She just stared at him and at his confused face. She blew out a puff of frustration.

"Not during a candle lit dinner, holding hands as we look into each other eyes...dumb ass," she ended smiling but with a tinge of exasperation.

"And yes, I love you too." She paused looking at the jetty.

"Come make me say it again, over in the sun by the rocks of the jetty, as you fuck my ass." She said as she pulled a tube of lube from her hoodie and shook it at him.

*

Chuck had just finished dropping the two kayaks behind his trailer. 'What a great buy off craigs list' he thought, 'endless fun for $200 bucks.' He then chuckled, 'I am changing. The old me would have scoffed at the cost or the effort of looking on Craigs List.'

He paused for a moment to remember all the love making and giggling that happed after his 'I love you' slipped out. It was a short pause, but made him smile, a true deep loving smile.

He removed the racks from the used BMW I3 he had bought off a local retired guy. 'Another good buy' he thought. While he thought the styling was a bit dorky, its interior was efficient, and the car drove like a dream. It was not the car he ever expected to drive but then he never expected to be where he was, or for the reasons he was on his 'vacation'.

He walked around the trailer and noticed one of his landscape rocks was sitting on his patio tabletop. He could make out some type of paper being held down.

His paranoia radar went up as he slowly approached the table. He took another look around and saw no one. It was Sunday afternoon so it would not be staff. They were young and would have texted him anyway.

He pulled the folded piece of paper away from the rock and unfolded it. A second's scan showed it was from Brian.

'Don't use your phone, destroy the damn thing. They have the number they will find you through it. The Ghost of Christmas Past is near, and he/they are a nasty ghost. Meet me for a drink at 'The Rock' at 4."

'B'

Chuck just shook his head.

'How fucked up is this?' he thought as he sat down on the patio chair and flung the rock at his garden.

'I just declare my love for the woman I have been waiting for all my life. Then my past comes home to fuck with me.'

"FUUUUUCK!" Chuck screamed out loud, to no one in particular. And then he dropped his phone on the ground and stomped it to death.

*

Charles walked into The Rock and ordered a cider. Gone was the longer hair. Gone was the beard and mustache. Gone was the earring in his left ear. Gone was the cheap thick -rimmed glasses. While still in jeans, the starched white button down and his shoes spoke of a different man than Chuck.

He knew he was not going to see Jeanne that night, so it was time to start the transformation. Haircut at Supercuts, a close shave and added clothes from Target.

The stare in his eyes was full of calculations. His bearing was one of precision. He knew it felt odd, but oddly comforting in a very self-protective type of way. He knew, Charles could be ruthless. That is what was needed at this moment...ruthlessness.

He took a seat in the shade and looked at the rock. A volcanic vent at some point had created it, and you could easily see the veins and striations of its formation as the softer dirt eroded. Just like at Bang-the-Drum and its older established trees, the Planning Department had made them keep it and another microbrewery had discovered a perfect spot for a pub.

Charles caught movement in his peripheral vision but did not react. Brian slid into the chair next to him without any preamble.

"Well shit, I see Charles is back. I liked Chuck. He was just a normal good guy. You going to let him come out and play every so often?" Brian questioned.

"Fuck off Brian. Skip the bullshit! Tell me what is going on!" Charles responded.

"Yup, asshole Charles is back. Barking orders and expecting obedience!' Brian softly and calmly stated. Brian finished his comment and then leaned back in his chair and sipped his beer.

"Use the Barney words," commented Brian.

"Barney words!?" responded Charles. He knew what Brian meant. It was an old professor's phrase to make the students feel like children. In some cases, because of the childish ways they were acting...he had to admit.

"Yup. Barney words. You know big purple dinosaur, PBS children's hour." and then he paused with his feral smile. He became bored after a while with Charles just staring at him.

"Please and Thank you are the magic words." Brian stated. "Asshole, I am here to warn you of what is close by. They landed in that big black corporate jet of yours at SLO Airport last night. The big black one is yours, right?" commented an exasperated Brian pointing at the airport not a half mile away.

Chuck/Charles just stared straight ahead. Not moving, not blinking, and not breathing. His mind however was going a million miles an hour.

"Thank you," Charles stated quietly looked up at Brian. He felt as though his heart was being squeezed in a vice.

"How long do I have?" Charles asked his old friend.

"I have no idea. My information came because an old friend of mine, who now works for the CIA, has a couple of friends in NSA. They all, have known where you are." Brian paused

"But because of interdepartmental bullshit, they refused to help the FBI. And no one wanted to help MI6 after that last dust up over the past orange president leaking classified information to Israel and then the British making it public." Brian ended.

"So, you know this is the end of your little slice of paradise, right?" Brian asked.

Charles did not respond but just slowly shook his head in the affirmative.

"May I ask you something, something personal?" Brian cautiously asked.

Charles just shrugged.

"OK, why all this flight to the ground? Short order cook, sleeping in a room above the kitchen. Day Laborer and now grunt programmer. Why not just take that jet and fly off to some country where they can't get to you? I assume you have enough money to pay off any tin-pot dictator in the world. Why this path instead of the hundred other paths you could have chosen?"

"I just wanted to feel 'normal'." Charles responded.

"Normal" Brian just paused and look at a bird that had found something on the rock to sample. They both started to stare at the bird as it pecked at something edible from its higher, rocky perch.

"Normal, huh...you can never be normal," and Brian lifted his eyes to look at Charles.

"See that waitress? You know the one that has been by our table a half dozen times? Did you know you hardly acknowledged her?" Brian commented and then held up his hand when Charles started to respond.

"Let me finish my thoughts and then it's all yours...buddy."

"She could be a student, or a single mom, or the wage earner in some partnership. I almost guarantee you, she lives paycheck to paycheck. How about the group of young construction workers over at the far table? All driving lifted pick-up trucks. Guarantee you, they have debt up to their eyeballs and are living paycheck to paycheck because society tells them they must have that truck and a boat, and, and, and..." Brian paused to take a breath because his mind was rambling trying to bring the issue into a focus that Charles may understand.

"How about the bartender behind the counter, looks a bit older huh? I'll bet he also lives for the percentage of tips he gets from the wait-staff. Why is an older dude working a shitty job?"

"They are NORMAL,' Brian's voice popping up several octaves, causing a few nearby patrons to do side looks.

"Average Americans going about their daily lives and playing lotto on certain days praying to win the money you have."

"And that is why you can't be normal. You don't have any idea what it is like to HAVE to work. To have to work to survive. No other options. No secret offshore accounts. No way out of their situation except to work more, and harder. With them hoping something does not fuck it up." Brian could feel the flush and took a deeper drag on his cider.

"You can't fathom what it is like to look at your life and see a long hallway of endless struggles in front of you. You do not truly understand...and can't because of your situation. You can PLAY the broke grad student. You can PLAY at being poor or just getting by. But you will never truly understand." Brian was on a roll.

"How do I explain to someone like you that us 'Normal' folk are always waiting for the next door to open and the newest problem to land in their/our lap. How does a normal person make enough money to pay for a sick child? Or decide on what to buy for groceries, when you only have forty bucks left over after paying rent. Oh, and your next paycheck is a week away. Normal people struggle every day for the things you take for granted."

"They do not have choices! They just hope to survive!"

"You are not normal and will never be," Brian paused briefly, "You cannot give it away and you cannot escape the monster you created."

"You have this enormous golden parachute that you will always drag around. It's part of the monster that is chasing you. That parachute will always be with you and protect you."

"Or kill you...depending on your next move." Brian could feel the flush in his face, and he knew he was getting angry.

"You can't be normal, so get over it. Net worth in the billions does that for you. It taints your life and will taint everyone around you." Brian breathed out trying to remain in control.

"The monster you created is your first ghost, the Ghost of Christmas Past. It will kill you if you give it a chance. Like I said, those guys are professional tortures, killers, and generally not nice people. If they get you, I doubt you will live after you sign away your life. And with these guys, you will sign anything they tell you to...in the end." Brian kept taking measured breaths to calm himself.

"I'm sorry about your Ghost of Christmas Present. She seems like a lovely lady and her reputation around town is stellar." Brian looked at his hands on the table that moments before had been waiving around.

"Have you told her that you love her yet?" Brian asked.

Charles was startled by the question and his eyes shot up to match Brian's. But no words came from Charles.

"Charles, I have been taking clandestine photos of you two for a while. The way you look at her, there is no denying it. Have you told her?"

"Yes, this morning." Charles stated slowly.

"Well...isn't that just fucked up!" Brian stated a little too loudly, getting side looks from other patrons again.

"You mean after the public beach sex or during it?" Brian commented too quickly and then realized he had just admitted to seeing the mornings antics. Proving a painful smirk on his face.

"What do you know about this morning?"