She had to be insane over the asshole to walk away from all that potential with only twenty-five hundred in cash. Then he could have pulled Mama out of there and with a big bankroll he could have done anything with her, even turned her out. If Steve had been clever he could have stayed right there on top of things and bled a big bankroll from the businesses in a couple of years. Her sucker husband was blindly in love, and the money from his business was wide open to her. Her business was getting better all the time. Here this fool had a smart, square broad with a progressive square-john husband, infatuated with him. Only after I had become a pimp years later would I know Steve’s complete plot, and how stupid he really was. The dirty bastard knew I would be excess baggage, but the way Mama was gulping his con, he figured he could get rid of me later. His plan was to cop Mama and make it to the Windy. She had fallen in love with the snake all right. This kind, wonderful man had only been a tool of convenience. I tell you when we finally made it to the big black Dodge and were riding home my thoughts were turning madly. What a sight we must have been, the six-foot-six black giant and the frail little boy holding on to each other for dear life, crying there in the darkness. I clung tightly to him and said, “Don’t worry Daddy, we’ll never leave you, I promise, honest, Daddy.” I just couldn’t go on if you left me alone.” He was trembling as he said, “You and Mama wouldn’t ever leave me? You know Bobby, I ain’t got nobody in the world but you two. I said as I squeezed my arms around his waist, “Yes, Daddy, yes, Daddy. His stomach muscles were cording, jerking against my cheek. He said, “Bobby, you know I love you and Mama, don’t you?” I could barely hear his low, rapid flow of pitiful words. My head was pressed against his belt buckle. I was confused and shaken when he put his massive hands on my shoulders and drew me to him very tightly just holding me in this strange desperate way. I turned toward him and looked up into his face tense and strained in the pale light from the street lamp. In an emotion muffled voice he spoke my name “Bobby.” That last night at eight o’clock Dad and I flicked the shop’s lights out as always at closing. For him, she was brown-skin murder in a size-twelve dress. He could have saved himself an early death from a broken heart if instead of falling so madly in love with Mama he had run as fast as he could away from her. He was the only father I had ever really known. My young mind couldn’t grasp his worry, his heart break.Įven I, a ten year old, knew that this huge, ugly, black man who had rescued Mama and me from actual starvation back in Indianapolis loved us with all of his great, sensitive heart. None of them stood up under second thoughts.Now, looking back remembering that last day in the shop as clearly as if it were yesterday, my stepfather, Henry, was unusually quiet. By the middle of the second week I’d had a dozen ideas. I just couldn’t get my skull in shape for another bit. I started thinking about a sensible way to escape. I was really desperate.Īfter the first week I came out of shock. Maybe I could claw up the thirty feet before I got shot. I was ready to make a blind rush at the wall. unfunny habit of putting pimps on the coal pile. Most of the inmates were serving short thirty and ninety-day bits. Only cons with scratch are treated and fed like human beings. A joint is always rough when there’s graft and corruption. We tapped out and got a year apiece in the workhouse. We could get the charge reduced to a workhouse bit for a price. He assured us we could avoid five to ten for armed robbery. To quickly assess the difficulty of the text, read a short excerpt:
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