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)
“Why don’t you just pretend to agree with them until you can get out of here? Fake it until you make it? You might make parole and then be able to leave this all behind you.”
“Once you hook up with somethin’ like that, it leaves a mark on you that can’t ever be erased. It’ll be in my record, too. Besides, that’s not the Wilde way. I would be lying to save my own ass. That’s what cowards do. I don’t think a man is better than another based on his skin color. I just don’t.”
“You and Mama raised us to judge folks by their character, not their color.”
“That’s right. Some of our family is racist though, Roman. We even got a couple Klan members from way back when.”
“I know. They tried to keep it on the down low back then though I guess. Now that shit is out in the open. Proud with it. Funny how times change for the worse. More knowledge and progression didn’t seem to help much.”
“Good Christian folk, right?” Daddy smirked. “The darkies are getting into heaven, too, but it’ll be segregated, they’d say. Such bullshit.” He cackled. “Never heard the N word being thrown around like a hat at church or family functions, but it was implied, and we all knew how some of the great uncles, aunts and so on felt about such folks. I might be a druggie, and I might be a lush, boy, but I got to stand for something.”
“That’s true… we all gotta stand for something, now, don’t we?”
“Hating someone for the color of their skin ain’t right.” Daddy held his chin a little higher. “I hate plenty of men. Black men. White men. Spanish men. Makes me no difference. I’ve had good folk in my life, too. Folks I care about, of all races. Trust is earned. But first, we must trust ourselves.” Daddy clasped his fingers and leaned forward. “Roman, I got this feeling that I don’t have a lot of years left.”
Now it all makes sense… He’s confessing before it’s too late. Having the dark chats before the final curtain call.
“I need to tell you everything as it comes to me. As I remember it. No holdin’ back. You’re the only child of mine that comes to see me regularly.” Roman smiled at him sadly. “I’ve known about you being in jail, recently,” he whispered. “Word gets around… I can’t protect you from him in here, like I said, but I can give you some words of advice. Do you want them?”
“I’m listening.”
“Trust yourself. Whatever your weakness is, he’ll use it against you. Confront your limitations. Master them. Conquer them. Whatever weakness he sees in you, there’s a version of it inside of himself, too. He hates you because you have some attributes that he never had but wanted. You’re a ladies man—was like that even when you were dirt poor. Daddy didn’t start getting primo pussy until he struck it rich. You ain’t have two pennies to rub together and you were getting women that looked like something from the Playboy mansion. You were my worst behaved child. My sneakiest child. My most charismatic child. You are me…” A tear dropped down his cheek. “You practically glowed when you walked into a room, even as a lil’ boy. Trust your light. Deal with your darkness before it swallows you up…”
CHAPTER FOUR
Sister Sledge and the Frenchie
…A few days later
Roman sat in his office looking diligently over several spreadsheets across three desktop computers. Soft jazz music played as he concentrated on the material. His stressful job as an Associate gave him the money, prestige and trust he so wanted in life, but due to his ‘get the gold’ attitude, he left little room for downtime as of late. He picked up his phone and called one of his clients. The voicemail came on.
“Good morning, Mr. Peterson. This is Roman Wilde from Goldman Sachs.” Roman leaned back in his burgundy leather chair and slowly spun from side to side while twirling a fancy silver pen between his fingers. “I’ve handled your account since February third. Prior to that, Rashad Abdullah was your former contact. We’ve spoken a half a dozen times here and there, mostly while you were traveling on business in Japan. I understand that you are now back in Houston, per your assistant. I would like to discuss your account variations and updates in person soon, perhaps over lunch, but I’ve sent over the latest analytics. If you have any questions regardin’ the updates, please feel free to give me a call. I’ll be happy to address any inquiries that you may have. Regards.”
He disconnected the call and began work on a different account. Not five minutes had passed before his personal cellphone rang. He looked at the Caller-ID and snatched the device off his desk.