Short Story: You think too much!

The little black girl lifted her head from the table, her mouth dry, lips cracked. She had been trying not to take a sip of the water in the paper cup that was put in front of her, but she couldn’t take it anymore. She reached a weary hand across the table, grabbed the paper cup, and sipped long and hard. The water tasted faintly of cardboard and it was lukewarm. The taste was horrible, but the refreshment was to die for. She finally looked up at the two men seated across from her. She looked at the recorder perched on the edge of the table, where it had landed after she had smacked it aside.

They had been grilling her for hours about what she thought about everything. Her views on politics, politicians, the government, and her people. She couldn’t understand what they wanted her to say or to admit to. After awhile of being asked the same questions a hundred different ways, she started to make stuff up. The more she fed them, the more they wanted to hear. She was tired of the interrogation, and they wouldn’t tell her where she was or what they wanted from her. She eventually just put her head down; she was convinced that they weren’t going to let her out.

“Have I committed a crime? Why am I here?” she asked in a last effort to get some clarity.
“We are not the police.” There was a tap on the door and one of the men went to answer it. After a brief discussion, another man entered the room.
“I’m sorry ma’am, there has been a case of mistaken identity. You are not who we are looking for, you can go now.”
“What?!” she shouted as she stood up. She knocked over her chair in the process and sent the men reaching for their guns. She quickly put her hands up in surrender, knowing how quick these kinds of people were to shoot someone like herself.
“We’ll escort you out, ma’am.” The third gentleman took her by the elbow and led her out of the room. They put her in the back of an SUV, similar to the one they had snatched her in. The third man talked to the driver, the driver nodded, locked the doors, rolled up his window and sped off with her so confused in the back seat.
“Where am I?” She asked the driver, who happened to be a black man.
“Girlie, I can’t tell you that.”
“Well where are you taking me?”
“They want me to take you to the place where they drop off all of the people they want to keep away from the general population.”
“Excuse me?”
“Honey, you think too much! I don’t know what you said, or who you said it to, but they have you listed as one of those thinkers. They are afraid of what you know, and they are trying to keep you away from everyone else. They don’t want someone like you giving everyday people ideas about what’s really going on.” The little black girl sat back in a daze. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing, she couldn’t believe what was happening to her.
“Look, I’ll drop you off right outside of the city. It’s up to you whether or not you go in. If I were you, I wouldn’t go in there just yet. Walk up the road a little, around the city. Don’t go up the obvious path. Seek The Truth, he’ll help you out. And please, KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT. These people aren’t ready for what you have going on up there.” He tapped his temple with his index finger. She looked out of the tinted window at the passing scenery. What in the hell had her big mouth gotten her into this time?

To be continued in: The Truth aka The Wandering Poet