The Inheritance Ch. 01

Sitting in an old office, books adoring every wall, save for the one spot where a Harvard Law school diploma hung proudly. The man sitting in front of me bore all the signs of wealth, power and masculinity, everything that I struggled my entire life to achieve, Mr Perez ozed from his entire being. His tall, fit figure, bushy salt and pepper bushy mustache, paired with short matching hair swept over against his tan skin. My first time meeting the man who would read my aunt's will.

She got married young in life to a significantly older man, when he passed he left her with an obscene amount of money and no children. She had plans of living what was left of her life to the fullest. That was going swimmingly until she got sick. My mom dragged me along to the hospital and then hospice care. The cancer hit her hard and fast, the type of cancer that no matter how soon it was caught, it was going to end her life quickly. Although to me spending all that time with the acrid scents of death and antiseptic filling the air, time seemed to drag on forever.

Mr Perez began to read in his powerful voice. "Dear Michael," - I always hated when she used my full name - "if you are reading this letter or more likely having it read to you then the cancer has subsumed my life. I don't expect you care much but outside of your parents you are my only family left. I have given your parents enough money to pay off their mortgage and a big retirement fund. The rest of what I have; my downtown condo, beach house, cars and 5 million in cash are all yours. Under one condition. You must live as a woman for a period of one year. You're a misogynist, let's not be coy about it. If you can show that you are able to understand and empathize with the fairer sex by living as one of us for a year, the rest of your life is to live however you choose. Should you choose not to live life for a year all of the money will go to a women in need charity."

Burning hot anger rose inside of me like a campfire with each passing word as its kindling. Misogynist, really auntie? That's what you think of me! I don't hate women, on the contrary, I have the highest degree of respect for them. I just happen to think that the last 100 years of women's liberation was a mistake. Women and society were better off back before they were forced out into the workforce. No fault divorce? Definitely a mistake. Bank accounts? Nah they got the one right, no one should be forced into a situation where they can't open up an account on their own... however if they got married then yeah the husband should probably control the finances. Voting? Well that depends on the year and how the last election went, I go back and forth on it. They certainly shouldn't be in charge of any major country, the one US female president and all of her huge mistakes proved that point for me.

I just thought there was no use denying that there are certain things that men were better at and things that women were better at. Women are kind and compassionate if they do have jobs it should be in areas where those are useful like a grade school teacher or a nurse. I'm not sure why but women are certainly better home cooks. Everything else though? Sports? Don't make me laugh. A high school men's team or individual could dominate the so called women's Olympic team in all but the most niche sports. Society seemed to be coming around to my ideas but all these wars, men just kept dying in larger and larger numbers. The rising indignation with each passing word built as the lawyer read out her words out to me.

Mr Perez put down the letter and let out a loud chuckle. "Well that's definitely top 10 for strangest inheritance requirements I've ever read. Although your aunt was a strong willed woman, I can't say I'm that surprised."

I looked at him, the color completely drained from my face, practically shaking in anger, I felt like I was in a nightmare. "She can't do this can she? Like legally?"

He shrugged. "She's not asking you to do anything illegal and you have the option to not do it. Nothing illegal about it. Inheritance requirements are quite common." He let out a sigh. "You can sit on this for a while but I would recommend making a decision sooner rather than later. Go out, have a drink tonight, give this a lot of consideration and come see me tomorrow. I will pencil you in for a 1 PM appointment. Should give you enough time to recover from any hangover brought on tonight." He stood up offering a hand to shake.

I shook his much larger hand, practically crushing my own, as I looked up at him to meet his gaze. I hated being shorter than the average man, most of the time it wasn't a big deal but when I was staring up at a tall, strong man like this it was so emasculating. Did my stature and the way some women treated me because of it play into my attitude towards them? Maybe. Hard to say it was something that I would rather not investigate. I was still young there would be plenty of time throughout the rest of my life to figure things like that out.

I pressed my temple bringing up a screen in front of my eyes, I blink clicked Jordan's name. The phone rang and rang but eventually he picked up.

"Hey man, what's up!?" He asked curiously his face shone through, the background of his office sat behind him.

"Any chance you're down for a drink after work? I've got some big news and I could really use my best friend to bounce some ideas off of."

"Hell yeah brother, I will be there. The usual spot?"

"You know it! I'm heading there now. I will have a bit of a head start but I promise not to get too far ahead so that you can't catch up." I laughed.

"Alright buddy, see you there!"

The line went dead as I pulled up the app to book a robo taxi, sitting on the curb outside of the lawyer's office. Closest one was 10 minutes away. I booked it, turning my deck to important notifications only, as I closed my eyes, feeling the concrete barrier under my hands. I let out a deep sigh. I could really use this money, since I finished high school I've been adrift from one job to another trying to find somewhere I belong. I did each job well enough but at the end of every day I couldn't help but feel like there was something missing. Never able to find satisfaction that my work actually mattered. Like Mr Perez and being a lawyer, he was providing a valuable service that no AI program could compete with. I needed to find something where real human thought and interaction still mattered.

The little black taxi pulled up as I hoped into the back seat. With robo taxis you could sit anywhere you wanted but there was something disconcerting about sitting up front, especially where the old driver's seat was, but there was nothing to control. I loved my dad's old car, one of the few left with an honest to god oil and gas burning engine with no AI driving module, just you and the steering wheel, although these days gas is getting harder and harder to find. Maybe the Western coalition will win the war and we will get the last of it but that war has been going on since I was a young child. The taxi pulled up to the pub, notifying me on my deck with a gentle buzz to my head that we had arrived.

I walked inside the bar, sitting at our usual table by the pool tables. I watched as Janine sauntered over, her little round ass framed by the impossibly short pleated plaid skirt. She smiled gently seeing my face although I knew it was out of kindness. I had asked her out one too many times and the last time was harsh enough rejection to convince me that any future efforts were futile.

"Just the usual Mike?"

I nodded and then thought about it. "Actually I'll take a shot of whiskey with the pint."

"Celebrating or commiserating?" She smiled.

"A little bit of both. Hard to say at the moment."

She looked a little confused as she turned on her heels and I watched her ass as she carried herself to the bar to get my drinks. I downed the whisky as soon as it was brought to me and started sipping the cold beer. It was nice on a hot day like today, not that there were many cold days left, but today was especially hot. The alcohol was just what the doctor ordered. I didn't keep my promise of being slow so Jordan could keep up. By the time he sat down at the table I had already lost track of how many drinks I had. I was properly pickled.

He looked into my glassy eyes. "Everything okay man? You look like you're already three sheets to the wind."

I let out a little belch. "Never been better."

He laughed, flagging Janine down for a drink of his own. I watched as they laughed together and she flirted with him. Everyone loved Jordan and all women wanted to be with him and men wanted to be him, why he still chose to be my best friend I will never know. Maybe it's just a time thing, we've been friends since either of us was born, our parents being part of an old high school clique. He sipped his darkly colored beer.

"Have you heard the new Linkin Park song? They almost have Chester's voice down perfectly."

"Dude you know I hate all that AI slop. They've been trying to nail his voice our entire lives but it still just feels so empty and hollow."

Harrison Brown could have not been more correct when he wrote the seminal piece 'Death of the Artists." He meant it much more literally than that phrase used to mean but ironically enough it was one of the last non AI assisted books to hit the shelves. Sadly no one really cared outside of a select few that still wanted real human art, not recycled AI attempts to capture past glory. Everyone else it seemed was happy to drink down the slop provided to them by the mega corps.

I could see Jordan's eyes watching me intently preparing himself for another one of my famous rants about how they don't make art like they used to. I let out a long sigh.

"I have to go away for a year. Tonight is the last time you will be seeing me for a while." I looked down into the slowly disappearing amber of my glass.

"What? You didn't fucking get drafted did you!? You know no one survives that war. Everyone who manages to come back is completely broken."

I chuckled. "No, not going to war although given what I have to do that might be preferable."

"Well what is it then?" I shrugged without saying a word. "Come on Mike, just tell me what's up. I will find out eventually, my parents will talk to yours at game night and I will hear about where you've gone. We've been friends our entire lives, just tell me."

The look on his face spoke of genuine concern, I couldn't bear to look him in the eyes, focusing instead on my beer. "My aunt died."

*I know that was a week ago, what of it?"

"She's leaving me everything that's left after taking care of my parents. But..." my words trailed off, struggling to find the words to say.

"Come on Mike. Out with it."

I could feel the tears welling up in the corners of my eyes. It took everything to fight down the sadness, prevent it from turning into a full on meltdown. "To get all of her money and things, I have to live as a girl for a year."

He looked at my face and then started laughing uncontrollably but when he noticed I wasn't laughing with him, he stopped, clearing the tear of laughter from his eye. "Wait, you're serious?"

"Serious as a heart attack."

He chuckled. "Dude you're so fucked. Anyone else and I would say, easy enough especially with that kind of money on the line but you, you won't make it three months."

"I have to do it. What else can I do with my life? With that kind of money I could spend the rest of my life writing. Sure, it won't make much money but it wouldn't matter, I would be happy and loaded."

Jordan reached a hand out, placing his much bigger hand on mine, I looked up at him into his brilliant blue eyes. Fuck no wonder every woman wanted to be with him. The star high school athlete could have played any sport he wanted to and excelled but his body size and shape practically pushed him into football. Best QB our high school had in a decade and somehow still my best friend. This little nerdy kid who wanted to try to bring back real writing. Even if it wasn't the best work, at least it would be human, at least it would have a soul. He had recently come back from college, barely missing out on turning pro but he valued his mind and ball had already done enough damage to it, so he was happy to sit in an office at his father's investment firm.

"I'll be here for you Mike. I really don't think you're going to survive but I will do all in my power to get you through this and if you get that money, I will be here to help you invest it so you never have to worry about making an income ever again."

I let out another long sigh. "Am I really doing this? Living as a chick for a year."

"Maybe it won't be so bad. You can just coop yourself up in that nice condo of hers. Maybe go to her beach house and just spend the year on the beach."

"You're right. I've gone through enough shit in my life. If I can survive high school, I can survive this." I tried to force a smile.

"And just like high school I will be there to make sure no one fucks with you!"

We laughed finishing off our drinks. Jordan never did end up catching up to my level of drunk but he had work tomorrow and I only had a massive hangover to fight off. I was in between jobs anyways, other than the appointment with Mr Perez, I had nowhere to be. After taking a robo taxi home, I collapsed in bed, staring up at the same ceiling I had been for the last 25 years. Thankfully I was drunk enough that my thoughts of what was to come only momentarily fought off sleep.