Mission: Macronutrients (N-P-K) Quayshaun Bailey The motto of the United States Army and the god of its members is to “be all you can be.” However, as a soldier in the war being waged on black people in America my goal is to make my country all that it should be. A place where freedom, justice, and liberty for all is more than just a slogan and is an actual reality. Unfortunately, in the current state that we’re in we have a long way to go. Especially with what our great nation has in store for us next. Oh, and just in case you forgot who I am allow me to reintroduce myself. My name is Alaka and this is the mission: Macronutrients (N-P-K). There’s been a lot going on since my last mission. For instance, next year the U.S. government will be restricting countless people from government assistance; specifically, link card benefits. The worse part is that many of the people that will be affected are elderly and unemployed. It seems that things are being designed for my people to struggle and starve. However, every action has an equal but opposite reaction and what I have up my sleeves is going to rock the world. The boom heard in ghettos everywhere. I don’t think the world is ready for this. “Damn, its hot,” I say to myself as another sweat bead rolls down my face. An urge to wipe it away comes over me, but I know any attempt would be futile. I look up to see my reflection in the glass of a nearby window. I look like a mad scientist wearing the white hazmat suit, gasmask, rubber gloves and boots. The large sprayer on the table before me just adds on to the sinister appearance. Its fitting considering the circumstances, though, because after the government implements this new law I’m about to strike back. I take a bottle filled with a chemical formula and I pour the solution into the sprayer’s tank. The solution consists of seventeen different elements. The most important three being nitrogen (N), phosphorous (P), and potassium (K). All of which can be deadly if ingested and very harmful in other cases. After sealing the tank I grab it and head into the next room. As soon as I cross the threshold the room temperature raises another ten degrees, high powered lights hanging all throughout the room. Beneath them are rows of large plastic clothing bins. Each one is filled with perlite (volcanic ash), peat moss, and dirt. Although you may not be familiar with this mixture you will soon come to see its relevance. Lending no time to procrastination I instantly start zig-zagging from bin to bin saturating the contents with my sprayer. To the naked eye it appears to just be moist dirt, but on a molecular level it has undergone several chemical changes. All of which are necessary to accomplish the overall goal but are separately caused by the individual components. I know all of this might sound complex, so let me break it down for you. After I sprayed the mix of all of the elements in the solution was absorbed into and will await the moment they can be put to use. The nitrogen will lie dormant until it is utilized to create proteins and enzymes. This will occur when the nitrate binds to sugar fragments to form amino acids. The phosphorous will remain fixed until it is used to form ATP, which is the primary molecule for the transfer of biological energy. (That’s right, its not just chemical anymore. We’ve advanced to biological warfare). As for the potassium, it will await the moment it will be used to stimulate cell expansion. Without it the bioorganism, or this mission would never grow. After several minutes of work, I finally make it to the last bin. However, as I approach it I suddenly hear a hissing sound coming from the sprayer. When I remove the strap from my shoulder, I sense that something is terribly wrong. I toss the sprayer and take cover. BOWWW!!! A few moments pass and I approach the scene again. My sprayer is ruined; the entire tank is busted rendering it useless. Nevertheless, I would much rather it be the sprayer than me. I’ve come too far in this struggle to go out like that. After cleaning up the mess I start to wrap up for the day. As I step out of my hazmat suit an awkward feeling comes over me. The close call I had with the explosion has my mind flooded with thoughts of mortality. I know that there’s a chance that this mission might go terribly wrong; many of my predecessors have been assassinated for attempting to do less than what I’ve set out to do. Yet, despite the butterflies in my stomach nothing is going to stop me from going through with this. They’re just going to have to do what they have to do with me, but before I go I guarantee they bear witness to my power. On my way out of the facility I approach the light switch. I take a moment to look back at my creation as I hold it in my hand. Then right before I send the room into darkness, I utter two prophetic words. “Watch this.” Three months later Peoria, IL - Public Affairs Office - January Crowds of people line the street in protest. Picket signs are being waved, people are shouting at the top of their lungs, and there is a small shoving match between them and the police. As usual the officers are trying to restrict the protest to a certain area. In this case, away from the public aide building. Tension rises as a young boy is knocked to the ground by mistake. The boy’s mother helps him to his feet and then gets in the officer’s face that is responsible. She calls him every slur imaginable, spit particles inadvertently flying all over his face and for a moment I thought he might hit her. A part of me wishes I was beside her just in case, but I’m not even a part of the protest. Not this time. As I observe everything from my car, which is parked a block away, I can’t help but to think about how frivolous their actions seem. I understand that people are upset but asking for their Link back is like begging a robber to give them their money back. It’s not going to happen. That’s why I’m not wasting my breath. I turn around and pat my hand on the large boxes stacked on my back seat. They can plead all they want, but I’m going to do something about it. I’ve got something for them. Beep! Beep! Pulled from my thoughts I look up to see a car idling beside mines. My sister, Alnisha, locks eyes with me from the driver’s seat and nods her head. I return the gesture in confirmation and three men simultaneously exit her car. They remove the boxes from my back seat as Alnisha pulls away to park. I pull down my sun visor and examine myself in the mirror as I wrap my mind around the moment. Mustering up all the strength I have I pull my skull cap down low and once again it’s on. I open the box and remove the contents and people start scrambling. Everyone is moving so fast the police are unsure what to do. I take what’s in my hand and I toss it. Time seems to stand still as I watch it soar through the air. It lands in the hands of a smiling elderly woman with a small grey afro. A light flickers in her eyes as she peers into the bag of fresh fruit and vegetables. Within moments the boxes that say free produce are wiped clean and that same light can be seen in eyes all around . Yeah, yeah, I already know what you’re thinking - here I go with this again. When I said biological warfare, you were probably expecting me to infect everyone with ebola. Well, that's what you get for thinking so negatively of me. I told you I’m just trying to make my country everything that it should be, and I don’t need to hurt people to do it. Now, let me break down what was really happening in that facility. The perlite, peat moss, and dirt come together to form soil media. A mixture that will allow for aeration, water retention, and the storage of nutrients to be made possible in the soil. Basically, this is the perfect environment to grow a plant. As for the nitrogen (N), phosphorous (P), and potassium (K) - they’re the three main elements (macronutrients) needed to produce a plant life and that’s what all of their functions I mentioned relate to. So, in case you haven’t figured it out by now the solution I was spraying was just fertilizer and it helped me feed all of those people. I know it’s not much, but this is only the beginning. As I stated before, the marathon continues. In memory of Nipsey Hustle. .