Truth and Reconciliation Ch. 01

"I'm just not sure what else I can do here, Mr. Cartwright," said the middle-aged woman with sad and tired eyes.

"We've exhausted every avenue of delay. Either the funds appear in your account by four o'clock this afternoon, or the system will automatically terminate your current course load."

Her look of genuine remorse caused Jason to feel bad for her, even as he stared on blankly. It wasn't her fault that this had happened...again. Even so, it was taking every ounce of his considerable willpower not to direct his anger at the innocent bystander seated in front of him.

"On the bright side," she offered a hopeful tone in her voice—even if the look on her face didn't match, "it's effectively a 'late drop,' and it won't impact your GPA."

Jason offered a weak smile, "Thanks...uh..." His eyes quickly scanned her desk looking for the inevitable woodgrain nameplate resting in a faux brass holder, "...June. I'm sorry to have wasted your time."

With that, he stood from where he was seated, noticing the slight pain in his lower back. 'They really need to get better chairs' he thought to himself absently.

As Jason slung his backpack over one shoulder and began toward the office door, June, the administrator, called after him, "Mr. Cartwright...I truly am sorry I can't help. Good luck, Jason."

Once again, Jason offered a pittance of a smile, then nodded his head in acknowledgment and stepped into the hallway.

-----

During the bus ride home from campus, Jason was stewing. Surprisingly his anger wasn't directed at the singular individual solely responsible for this mess. Instead, he was angry with himself.

He was mad because he had allowed himself to believe this time would be different. He had let his guard down, and that bitch had fucked him over...again.

He should have known better.

He should have seen it coming.

The "bitch" in question was Jason's mother. And the "mess" was his unpaid university tuition.

At twenty-three years-old, Jason wasn't the oldest college sophomore. But he was probably the oldest sophomore who had graduated high school at seventeen. Who had done so with a 4.0 GPA. And who everyone had assumed, back then, would be a tech startup millionaire by now.

His mother hadn't always been a bitch, but she changed a decade ago.

It started Jason's freshman year in high school. His mother transformed from a kind, loving, even doting figure to something more akin to a wicked stepmother out of some fairytale.

Suddenly it was chores, chores, and more chores. And all the while, the woman belittled and berated him.

At first, it was easy to excuse. Jason's father, her husband, had died not long before. A carefree and adventurous sort, Jason's dad perished in a rock-climbing accident.

Naturally, the loss had devastated the entire family. But, eventually, Jason and his two sisters—twenty-five-year-old Bethany and eighteen-year-old Evelin—began to heal.

Weirdly, even Jason's mother, forty-three-year-old Janice, seemed like she too was healing and moving on with life. At least she did in every regard except for her relationship with Jason.

Between his unreasonable and unfair household workload and the never-ending punishments, Jason's life ground to a halt.

It was only him, though. While Jason didn't even have time for friends, his sisters enjoyed a full social and extracurricular life.

Thankfully Jason was smart, probably not true genius level, but certainly smart enough that he never had to study to get straight A's in school.

He was also smart enough that university would also be a breeze. It had been when he was actually able to take classes. But his mother seemed intent on sabotaging his academic career.

This wasn't the first time she somehow forgot to pay his tuition.

It wasn't a money thing either. Jason actually had a healthy nest egg left to him by his father. It was more than enough to pay for a good education. However, due to some insane stipulation—which probably made sense at the time—the money was held in trust. It could only be used to pay for school until Jason graduated from college.

Which meant that only Jason's mother had access to the money. And it wasn't like she was stealing it or anything. It just sat there, untouched.

In the past, Janice's argument had been that Jason just had too many responsibilities. She worked full-time, so it fell to Jason to run the household.

Jason did the shopping, the cooking, the cleaning, the laundry (for all four family members), the yard work, etc.

She promised Jason that once his sisters moved out that there would be time for classes.

That almost sounded reasonable until you realize that Janice encouraged Bethany NOT to move out. Further, Evelin would be home for at least four and a half more years. As she still had to finish high school and then SHE would get to go to university.

Despite all of that, Jason had managed to complete a number of courses and was now nearly half done with his degree.

The trick had been doing everything online. Jason had been able to transfer the funds, then get into his mother's email and delete the evidence. (Resident IT guru was another of Jason's responsibilities at home.)

He then took the classes at home without his mother even knowing.

Eventually, though, he slipped up and missed a statement emailed to his mother. She saw the withdrawals and was furious.

At first, Jason thought he might have gotten away with it, though. After all, all of his responsibilities were still getting done. And the money in the trust was to be used explicitly for his education. So technically, he hadn't done anything wrong.

He didn't get away with it, however. Instead, Janice turned the "bitch factor" up to eleven and blocked electronic transfers on the account.

Jason was stuck, and his home life was more miserable than ever.

To be fair, though, his home life wasn't all bad. He actually got along okay with his sisters. They weren't unsympathetic to his plight, but they had their own lives to live. And, after so many years of this, it just kinda became "normal" to them.

From time to time, they, particularly Evelin, would give him a hand around the house, and they always thanked him for his efforts. But the occasional kind word or helping hand wasn't enough to make up for all the misery.

Things finally came to a head several months ago. After another grueling day with no end in sight and nothing but vitriol from his mother, Jason hatched a plan.

Following some online research, Jason set up profiles on various websites that allowed computer programmers to hire out their skills on a contract basis.

Jason was a mostly self-taught developer—aside from a couple of classes in high school. Coding seemed to come naturally to him, so he was actually reasonably competent despite his minimal education.

He only bid on jobs that he could do 100% from home. At first, it was slow going as he didn't have anything in the way of references or formal education.

But, once he had earned his first fifty bucks, he was able to set up a couple of websites for fake software development companies. He then padded his resume with "work experience" from those companies. That way, if anyone tried to verify his work history, he could just respond to the request with a bogus email from the company's "HR department."

To his surprise, all that effort seemed to be a waste, as no one ever verified his resume. Mostly they would just make him take online coding tests to demonstrate his skills. Upon which he usually scored relatively high.

With his new "side hustle" chugging along, Jason was finally saving money and feeling hopeful for the future.

Eventually, he had enough savings that he could pay for a couple of semesters of school or start looking for an apartment.

Despite everything, though, he still felt a little guilty for "abandoning" his family. So, he decided to sit down with his mother and see if they could come to an agreement. After all, the worst-case scenario would involve him moving out, something he was already prepared to do. There was nothing to lose.

Jason waited a couple days until his mother seemed to be in a good mood, then he asked her to talk. And, to his utter amazement, the conversation went very well.

There was a fair bit of back and forth, but the final agreement seemed mostly equitable.

Janice agreed to allow Jason the time to attend university. And, she offered to pay the cost of tuition out of his trust.

Jason agreed to use the money he'd saved to buy books and pay any non-tuition fees.

Further, Jason agreed—though reluctantly—that he would begin paying rent.

He was floored when Janice suggested it. But she argued that he was in his 20s, earning a steady income, and would no longer be helping out as much around the house. So, to her, it only seemed fair.

It didn't seem quite as fair to Jason, though. But all things considered, he decided it was acceptable if it meant he'd be going to school.

Soon thereafter, Jason was registered for classes.

When he presented the bill to Janice, she likewise presented him with a bill for rent.

The amount was much higher than they had agreed, and at first, he assumed that she had made some mistake.

However, he should have known better. Because Janice explained that since he had been earning money for several months, he owed her back rent.

Ultimately he didn't care. Every day at school was one day closer to freedom. That thought was enough to keep him focused on the prize.

Those events were weeks ago.

At present, Jason was riding the bus home, and he was furious with himself.

He had trusted that bitch, and she fucked him over royally.

Because while he had all but emptied his bank account on rent, books, and school fees( non-refundable school fees), she had never actually paid his tuition.

To add insult to injury, there was no rental agreement and no receipts. If Jason wanted to get his money back, he'd have to take his own mother to court, where it would be her word against his.

Once again, she had somehow managed to outmaneuver him. He was as trapped as he'd ever been.

As that thought hit him, Jason began to sink deep into himself, drowning in despair.

Tears began running down his cheeks, and his chest started convulsing as he openly wept into his hands.

'Why?' he thought to himself. 'Why does my own mother hate me so much? Why is she so bent on ruining me?'

He continued weeping, even as sobs and sub-vocal groans started attracting attention from the other passengers.

Some looked at him with pity, others with disgust. Either way, Jason was oblivious to everything but his own misery.

'I've done everything she ever asked of me,' he continued thinking to himself. 'What kind of person treats her own son as a slave?'

The bus continued on down its route, starting and stopping, passengers going about their lives, while Jason was lost within himself.

'Why? Why? WHY!?' he screamed in his mind. 'Why does she do this to me?'

Jason's stop was approaching, and something in his subconscious reminded him. So, realizing he'd be home in a few minutes, he tried pulling himself together.

He took a few deep breaths, wiped the tears from his face, and picked up his backpack.

At that moment, he was startled half to death when a hand grabbed his shoulder from behind.

Nearly in a panic, Jason spun to face his assailant but stopped abruptly when he saw the hand belonged to an old man sitting in the seat behind him.

The man's body was bowed and weak-looking, though his grip was strong, all likely resulting from a lifetime of hard work. His eyes were bright though, like twin oases of kindness hidden in the deep craggy desert of his face.

It was the light in those eyes that shown through Jason, parting the clouds of despair that enveloped his heart. So sudden was the shift within himself that it startled Jason, causing him to stare intently at the old man, desperate to hear whatever he might have to say.

"Son," began the oldtimer, "life can be a real bitch sometimes. Oh yes, she can." As he said it, the man's eyes narrowed, and his brow furrowed ever so slightly. It added an intensity to his visage, and Jason knew beyond doubt that this man had seen some shit in his day.

"But the way I see it," he continued, "you've got two choices."

Jason heard the bell indicating they'd arrived at his stop. Still staring into the old man's eyes, he unconsciously slung his backpack over his shoulder.

"You can wallow in the pain of what she's done to you..."

Jason took a step back, still unable to look away.

"Or, you can figure out what you're going to do to her. Either way, life's gonna be a bitch. Why not get to work making her your bitch," he stared back at Jason, a sly grin parting his weathered lips.

"What's it going to be, boy?" he demanded.

"Are you going to make that bitch yours?"

Something about the question resonated with Jason: it awoke something within him, and as he felt it stirring, he began nodding to the old man.

"Haha, that's right, boy!"

Jason began backing away, moving toward the door of the bus.

"Let me hear you say it," the old man called after him.

Still nodding and smiling now, Jason replied with conviction, "I'm gonna make that bitch mine!"

"Good man!" exclaimed the old man as Jason bounded off the bus. "Good man."

--

Jason decided not to mention anything to his mother. He just didn't want to give her the satisfaction.

So, he went about his routine like usual that evening.

Concerned that he might give it away, he avoided Janice. Still, he usually avoided her, so that wasn't particularly out of the ordinary.

Even so, he felt a sense of relief when he finally finished all of his household duties and sequestered himself in his room for the evening.

Lying in bed that night, Jason's mind churned, struggling to come up with ideas for getting back at Janice.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized that this wasn't going to be easy.

To Jason, Janice was pure evil. But, he had to admit, that was really only true from his perspective.

To all outwards appearances, Janice was pretty average. She seemed to be just another single mom with a modest but solid career who had friends, went to church, and even volunteered from time to time.

Even if he could get someone to listen to his plight, it would be hard to convince them that she was anything but "strict."

After all, who was going to listen to him anyway? He's a twenty-three-year-old man without a degree, only an occasional part-time job, and lives with his mother. The moment he started complaining, people would just laugh in his face.

It occurred to him that he could simply keep saving his money and leave. It would only take a few months. And once he had his own place, he could put all this behind him.

Sure he'd lose access to his trust money, but he didn't care about that anyway. (At least not in the short term.) And, if he kept doing classes, he would still finish his degree eventually.

In fact, that was probably the best possible plan. But, the old man's words niggled at his brain. Jason wanted to "make that bitch his." Sure, the old man was talking about life, not Jason's mother, but that didn't matter.

Jason was going to own that bitch. He just needed to figure out how.

---

The next week, somehow both flew by and dragged on forever, all at the same time.

Because of Janice's work schedule, she really had no idea if Jason was going to class or not, so it was easy for Jason to come and go as he pleased during the day.

Over the first few days, he spent hours and hours combing through every nook and cranny of the house, looking for any sort of "incriminating" evidence he could use.

Ultimately nothing was found. And even though Jason didn't really expect he would find something, he had still held out hope. It was only after examining every possible document and probing every conceivable hiding place that he finally ended his search.

Jason wasn't done just yet, though. Because with the physical search complete, it was time to move on to the electronic search.

He hacked into every account his mother owned. (Well, "hacked" is a strong word. Mostly he just answered questions like, "What was the color of the house you grew up in?" and "What was the make of the first vehicle you owned.")

Also, and just to cover all the bases, Jason installed a keylogger on Janice's computer. He was pretty sure he wouldn't need it, but why not do it? It only took a minute.

Days later, with every email read, every bookmark followed, and the entire browser history combed through, Jason still had nothing.

There was absolutely nothing that he could use to even embarrass his mother, let alone blackmail her.

Once again, Jason felt himself starting to sink into despair.

Recognizing the signs within himself and realizing that such indulgences would only delay his plans, Jason did his best to redirect that negativity into anger and that anger into determination.

Jason had always been one of the smartest people he'd known, but even so, that didn't mean everything was easy.

For example, when he was learning to code—something he largely enjoyed—it still took time and practice.

Unlike his mother—who had long since mastered duplicity—this was Jason's first attempt at being nefarious. He told himself that given a little time and patience, he could figure this out too. He just needed to stay focused and keep working toward the goal.

With renewed dedication, Jason decided the best course of action was to step back and allow his brain to percolate on the matter.

In the meantime, he hadn't taken a contract in a couple weeks, and he needed to get back to earning money. Besides, focusing on something else often helped him to come up with good ideas.

As usual, there was no shortage of jobs available for a skilled programmer. Also, as usual, Jason found himself being underbid by the coding "sweatshops" of Asia.

That was always the challenge, finding a project which was willing to pay Western wages. Usually, that meant bidding on demanding jobs with complex requirements and tight deadlines.

Luckily for Jason, that's the type of work he preferred anyway. Even so, it was still disheartening when he was underbid on so many potential jobs.

'Ah, the global economy,' Jason thought to himself. 'Everybody loves giant disposable TVs and cheap blue jeans...until it's their job being shipped overseas.'

Eventually, Jason came across something that sounded rather interesting. It was a one-man project to develop a "Mindfulness and Holistic Healing App."

The concept was pretty straightforward. The app needed to hook into the phone's audio output and overlay a series of rhythms and tones designed to induce different brain states.

Jason was sure he could knock this out pretty quick. In fact, in his mind, the most challenging part would be designing the UX (user experience). Jason was more than happy to code it; he just didn't have a knack for visual design.

Even so, it sounded like a cool project (and a quick couple of grand in his bank account). But, before bidding, he wanted to check out some of the terms used in the posting: binaural beats and isochronic tones.

About ninety minutes later, Jason had thoroughly delved into that rabbit hole.

Supposedly these tones could be used to effectively trick the brain into adopting altered states. From focused to calm to meditative, all achieved through brain wave synchronization.

It sounded like bullshit.

But...bullshit or not, who cared? Jason could undoubtedly write the app. His contribution, the code, would work. He didn't care if the quack pseudoscience behind the product was real or not.