Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 73556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73556 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
“Naw, that’s not the time she was referring to, Roman.” Daddy clasped his hands. “You said, ‘You’re a bad mother, Mama. An awful mother. You don’t deserve kids.’ She asked why you’d say a thing like that, said it came out of the blue. You stood taller and told her, ‘You took forever to come get us. You didn’t want us. I hate you, Mama. You’re weak, and I hate weak people. You ain’t nothing to me. Everybody else had their mama but us. I wish I was born to someone else. I can’t trust you!’”
Roman swallowed the lump in his throat. “I don’t remember sayin’ that.” It was much worse than he’d imagined. His memory was always golden, something he bragged about. How could such a thing slip his mind?
“I think you do, Roman. I think you remember it quite well, seein’ as the teachers always said what an amazin’ memory you had, boy. You could read a passage and recite it word for word. That’s why you were always so good at those schemes you used to pull on folks. You could look at a person, place or thing, make ’em out real fast, and go into action quicker than a finger snap.” He leaned close to the glass. “Problem is, you don’t want to remember it, so you probably blocked it out. It was a turning point for you. The day trust died. Son, you can lie to the folks you charm all day, every day. You’re a big hotshot now at that impressive job. Fancy cars. Pretty women. Lavish parties and clothes. That’s just a smokescreen to hide the dirty black sheep that you believe yourself to be.
“You ain’t just greedy with money. You were greedy with your mama’s love, too, and that’s understandable. The moment you felt she didn’t love you, you died a little. Felt poor deep inside. Riches ain’t wealth. It’s love. Without love, we ain’t got shit. You can’t lie to me… I see me in you…” Daddy bit into his lower lip. “I see a bit of your grandpa, too… You got a little something he didn’t have at your age, though. Something he had to learn to pretend to possess.”
“What’s that? Since you think you know me so well even though for at least forty percent of my life, you were behind bars in either Texas, here in Louisiana, or Georgia. How can you know someone you ain’t see half the time?”
“That don’t hurt me, boy. I know you’re trying to hurt me because you don’t like what I said. You got that from me, lashin’ out when the pain gets too big and wide. You’ve got electric charm and sharp-edged charisma. That’s all smoke and mirrors. Like I said, a magic show. You cope in your own way. You ain’t no drug addict like me and your brother. You ain’t a drunk, either. You don’t eat too much when you’re depressed, like your mama would do from time to time, but you don’t trust nobody far as you can throw them… ’specially no woman. You lost faith in me a long time ago. Your mama was all you had, so when she kept me around even when those Child Protective Custody folks told her to turn me loose or risk losing y’all, and she didn’t at first, to you, that was a slap in the face. Like I said, she was all you had. Dependable. A part of you probably feels like you don’t even deserve a good woman, with all the dirt you’ve done. Wilde men are calculating and complicated… you’re my blood. My boy. You’re the most like me outta my children. I know you, ’cause now, I finally know me…”
Roman wanted to defend himself. He wanted to make up a story, spin a tall tale. Instead, he sat there and smiled at his father. On the inside, he was cracking. On the inside, he was burning like a flame on wood.
“I might die in here, Roman. This prison here ain’t for the faint of heart. I might have a heart attack like my mama and end up in the hospital for years, unable to talk. A vegetable. I might get into a knife fight and end up on the losing end. These motherfuckers in here know who my daddy is. That makes me a target. For better or for worse, thank God I know how to fight, or I would’ve been dead years ago. I did two things right. I taught my boys how to do magic, and I taught my boys how to fight.”
“Yes indeed, you did.” Roman ran his hand along his knee, itching to get out of there.
“One day, I’ll be too old to take on these youngins rollin’ in here with a chip on their shoulder, an axe to grind, and a point to prove. Mostly Black men are in here… and the only way for me to be completely protected is to join a white supremacist posse, which I have refused to do since I don’t believe in that. It’s the chance I’m willing to take.” Daddy shrugged and sighed.