Bearly Gold


 
 
 
 
 
 A “Goldilocks and the Three Bears” Reimagining
 N. D. Jones
 
 
 
 
 
 Copyright © 2023 by N.D. Jones.
 
 All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the address below.
 
 Kuumba Publishing
 1325 Bedford Avenue 
 #32374
 Pikesville, MD
 kuumbapublishing.com
 
 Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is entirely incidental.
 
 Book Layout & Design ©2017 - BookDesignTemplates.com
 
 Editor: Chris at Hidden Gems
 Cover Design: Fantasia Cover Designs
 Illustrator - Jwahir and the Three Bears Coloring Pages: Ika Sirana
 
 Bearly Gold/N.D. Jones. -- 1st ed.
 ISBN-13: 979-8-9871464-5-3
 
 Content Warnings: on-page sex between consenting adults, on-page/implied child death, implied child sexual assault, talk of/threatening child physical assault, talk of suicide, talk of drug use, talk of sex slaves 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Dedication
 
 Shirley Anita Chisholm
 November 30, 1924–January 1, 2005
 Politician, Educator, Author
 
 “I want history to remember me . . . not as the first black woman to have made a bid for the presidency of the United States, but as a black woman who lived in the 20th century and who dared to be herself. I want to be remembered as a catalyst for change in America.”
 
 
 Table of Contents
 
 Content Warnings
 Chapter 1: This Won’t End Well
 Chapter 2: Brave Yet Foolish Words
 Chapter 3: I’m an Impundulu, Not a Simple Bird
 Chapter 4: All Lightning but No Bite
 Chapter 5: If We Took a Stand
 Chapter 6: Our Cub Comes Before Anyone Else’s
 Chapter 7: I’ll Take the Forty Ops
 Chapter 8: I Won’t Give You More
 Chapter 9: It Feels Just Right
 Chapter 10: Help is Coming
 Chapter 11: She Chose You
 Chapter 12: Just Once, Baby
 Chapter 13: A Long-Ass To-Do List
 Chapter 14: We Must All Do Our Part
 Chapter 15: Those Who Request a Virgin Are Charged More
 Chapter 16: You Mentioned Bait
 Chapter 17: A Victim of Circumstances
 Chapter 18: Survived to Tell Her Story
 Chapter 19: Caring Can Be Painful
 Chapter 20: Uninspired but Inspiring
 Chapter 21: Selfishness is Allowed
 Chapter 22: What Justice Would Look and Sound Like
 Chapter 23: The Fine Art of Finally Giving a Shit
 Chapter 24: Family and Friendship
 Author’s Note
 Bonus Images
 About N. D. Jones
 Other Books by N. D. Jones
 Newsletter
 A Queen’s Pride Sneak Peek
 
 1: This Won’t End Well
 2122
 The State of Namju
 Fuxing City
 
 “I’m not leaving my children here to die.” 
 Fayola watched as Dr. Teresa Pérez-Soto stomped past her and back into Peace Blossoms Orphanage. Or rather, she inwardly sighed at the doctor’s pointless theatrics as the woman reentered the two-story medical clinic. The sign on the brick building read: Peace Blossoms Clinic for Children. Someone, perhaps one of the youths Dr. Pérez-Soto claimed as her own, had used red spray paint to write Orphanage overtop of the last three words.
 Clinic or orphanage, biological or adopted children, it doesn’t matter. My mission is clear. Extract Dr. Pérez-Soto and return her to her worried brother. A straightforward mission. My last. Finally.
 Fayola scanned the area. Small, local businesses lined both sides of the abandoned street. Like the clinic, an old-fashioned sign affixed to the front of each business drew the eye to big, white letters outlined in black. One or more familiar pictorials—a bear paw, an elephant trunk, and a human hand—appeared under the name of each business. 
 The clinic’s sign has all three images. Dr. Pérez-Soto services every kind of child in this country. 
 Twisted metal gates and broken glass from storefront windows littered the sidewalk in front of many businesses with paw and hand pictorials. 
 The calm stillness of this street won’t last. I can feel the vibrations. Their marching is like a building earthquake deep in Earth Pact’s core. The regiments will converge on this part of the city in an hour. That’ll be more than enough time to complete the extraction part of my mission. Whether she wants to or not, Dr. Pérez-Soto will be leaving with me.
 Fayola tried the knob to the clinic, shaking her head when the door did not open. Did the doctor think her temper tantrum and a locked door would have her taking to the sky and failing to complete her mission? 
 Bam. Smash. Hinges snapped; the wooden door cracked in fours and crashed to the floor.
 Stepping on pieces of the ruined door, Fayola strolled inside the clinic. Shafts of light from outside lit the foyer, bouncing off candle wax stuck to the floor and the face of a frowning Dr. Pérez-Soto.
 “You broke my door.”
 With the tip of her booted foot, Fayola pushed one of the chunks of wood out of her way. “Inconsequential.”
 “It isn’t.” Light brown eyes lowered to Fayola’s glove-covered hands before settling on her black boots. “Did you do that with your hands or feet?”
 “Inconsequential. We have less than an hour. Pack a bag and say your goodbyes.”
 “I told you, I’m not going anywhere.”
 Fayola stepped farther into the clinic. The foyer led to stairs to the right and two closed doors to the left. Although she could not hear the children, she could smell blood from a recent injury in the air. 
 For the second time in less than ten minutes, the doctor turned her back