Grand Opening 2

by Carl Weber

  “No, it sure doesn’t.” I blinked and stared at what seemed to be a commercial building located on a barren lot.

  In my rearview mirror, I saw a long, black Oldsmobile Toronado pull up behind me. I leaned over to the glove compartment and retrieved my .45, but by the time I sat up, I saw it was Mr. Mahogany stepping out of the other car. I watched him walk around the car and help an attractive woman, who appeared to be about his age, as she got out of the car. Her presence eased my anxiety a little. I slipped the gun under my seat and got out of the car.

  “LC, Chippy!” Mr. Mahogany called out to us as I was helping my wife from her seat. “Welcome to my city!”

  “Good to be here, I think.” I shook his extended hand when he approached. He leaned over and gave Chippy a kiss on the cheek.

  “Nice to see you again, Mr. Mahogany.” Chippy smiled at him. “So, do you live here? I thought we were supposed to be going to your house for breakfast.”

  “We will go there eventually,” was his cryptic answer.

  Mr. Mahogany and I locked eyes for a moment. I wanted him to know without saying it that I didn’t like whatever game he was playing. He broke the tension by doing introductions.

  “By the way, this is my wife, Belinda.” Mr. Mahogany grabbed the hand of the woman who stood nearby.

  She smiled at us like a debutante. “Welcome to Atlanta.”

  “Well, enough with the pleasantries. Come on in,” Mr. Mahogany said like a king inviting people into his castle.

  We followed Mr. Mahogany and his wife inside the building, which was devoid of any furnishings except a long conference table surrounded by high-back chairs.

  “Is there a restroom I can use?” Chippy asked.

  “Certainly, young lady. Follow me.” Belinda took Chippy by the hand and led her through another door, chatting all the way. “I know exactly how you must be feeling. When I was pregnant with EJ, that boy stayed sitting on my bladder. I was running to the bathroom every five minutes.”

  When we were alone, Mr. Mahogany said, “Your wife is lovely. I think she’d love Atlanta. You ever thought about moving up here?”

  I hoped the look on my face didn’t show how I felt about the boldness of Mr. Mahogany’s question. This man had more confidence than anyone I had ever met, including my brother Lou, and that was saying a lot.

  “Of course. I live in a one horse town. Everyone in Waycross dreams of moving to the big city one day, but for me, that’s all it is. A dream.”

  “And why is that?” he pressed. “You’re a smart young man. You can do anything you put your mind to.”

  I laughed. “That’s what my momma always says.”

  “Your momma’s a smart woman. Always has been.” He smiled and gestured toward the large front lot. “This property spans over two and a half acres. More than enough space for you to build a first class dealership, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah, right.” I guffawed. “I wish.”

  “No need to wish, son. It’s already done. We’ve got financing and investors all lined up. I hope you don’t consider this presumptuous, but I’ve already taken the liberty of getting this fast tracked with the planning and zoning boards. You could break ground in a week if you’d like.”

  “You’re joking, right? What, do you have me on Candid Camera or something?” I was only half joking as I began to look around for the hidden cameras.

  “This is not a joke. This is our gift to you if you’re ready to take your place on the Black Council.” He looked serious, but this dude was confusing the hell out of me. He barely knew me, and here he was offering me everything I needed to get into the Atlanta market.

  “You mentioned them last night. What exactly is the Black Council?” I asked, trying not to get too excited about the offer before I had some concrete details. “I’ve never heard of them before.”

  “Few have.” Mr. Mahogany put his hand on my shoulder. “Come over here and sit.”

  We walked to the table and sat across from one another. Mr. Mahogany inhaled deeply and somehow, I knew that what he was about to say was important.

  “The Black Council is one of the most powerful black organizations in the South,” he said, his eyes never leaving mine. “We settle disputes the law can’t or won’t handle, make loans to people who would never go to a traditional bank when they need a loan. You name it, we’re in it, legal and illegal. Oh, and most importantly, we protect one another and our allies. Sam Bradford, or Big Sam as you knew him, was a member. I’m offering you his seat.”

  “No disrespect, I’m no Big Sam, and neither are my brothers. He was a low-down snake who would eat his own young if it made him a few more dollars. Me and my brothers may not be totally on the up and up, but we have honor. I don’t think your council is the right fit for my family. We’re just small time hustlers.”

  “Really?” Mr. Mahogany said with a hint of a smirk on his face. “That surprises me, considering your father was one of our founding members.”

  I sat up straight in my chair and opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. “When he was killed and your mother went to jail, that seat was filled by Sam, and now that he is gone, the seat is empty, and we feel that the time has come for a Duncan to fill it again. And that would be you,” Mr. Mahogany explained.

  I chuckled, because the whole damn thing was so off the wall it didn’t seem real. A few years ago, I was a college kid getting ready to marry a girl from the other side of the tracks, and now I was sitting here, being asked to take my family’s criminal organization to a whole new level. “So let me get this straight,” I said. “You mean to tell me there is a secret illuminati organization that nobody knows about, that controls and finances the black underworld . . . and they want me to be a member.”

  He folded his hands in front of him. “Yes, that about sums it up, although we’re not quite as big as you make it sound. Our reach only extends through the Southeast.”

  “This is bullshit, right? You’re messing with my head. This council stuff is BS, isn’t it?” I looked around for the cameras again.

  “Nope. Ask your mother when you get back. I’m surprised she hadn’t told you boys already.”

  “Okay then, why me? Why not Larry or Lou?” I attempted to explain my reasoning. “They’re the oldest, and I’ve only been in the business a few years. Larry’s been sharking since Daddy—”

  Mr. Mahogany shook his head. “Your brothers have done a good job with what they do, but this requires some skills and talents that we feel they don’t possess.”

  I was starting to feel like this man knew a little too much about my family and how we ran our organization. It put me at a distinct disadvantage, because I knew very little about him. I also felt my anger beginning to rise. I was not about to sit here and let this man disrespect my brothers. They might not have been the most educated brothas, but they each had their own talents that made them valuable to what we did.

  “I don’t appreciate you talking about my brothers that way,” I said.

  “One seat, one man. It’s no disrespect to you or your family. It’s just that we’ve been watching you for a while, and we prefer the way that you operate. Like I said, we can appreciate the way that Lou and Larry have continued handling the Duncan businesses,” he said, attempting to lower the heat between us. “They don’t have a problem taking care of the dirty work that comes along with it, but we also know that you were instrumental in the release of your mother. Your intellect and education are going to take you farther than you ever dreamed. You, son, have the mind and the potential to become one of the richest black men in America, and I am here to help you achieve that goal.”

  Hell, I can’t lie. I had imagined having the finer things in life: opening a larger car lot, purchasing a nice home for Chippy and me, buying a couple of cars, money in the bank, and an education fund for my children, but I had never dared to dream about one day becoming the richest black man in America.

  I let that fantasy settle in for a minute t
hen said, “What are you asking me to do?”

  “Just take your rightful seat at the table, use the resources at your disposal, and make yourself and your partners a lot of money. It’s just that simple,” he said with a shrug.

  “What about your sons? Why not allow them to fill the empty seat?”

  Mr. Mahogany laughed, which took me completely by surprise. “Absolutely not. I love them dearly, but my sons are not equipped to handle all that comes with that position. My sons, for lack of a better term, are closed minded. I’ll be lucky if one of them ends up with my seat.”

  I tried to comprehend everything he was telling me, but I still didn’t completely understand. “So, let’s say I accept your invitation and take this so-called seat. Then what happens?”

  “Well, for starters, we assist you in opening this place.”

  “My car lot?”

  “No, son, not your car lot. Your dealership. Think luxury cars, GM, Ford, Cadillacs, maybe even Porsche. I need for you to have the mindset of a billionaire, boy.”

  “Okay, I open a dealership. Then what?” I said, still waiting on the bait and switch that I was sure was about to happen.

  “Not a dealership. Your dealership.”

  “My dealership,” I emphasized, playing along. “Then what?”

  “Then you assist us in finding those creative financial opportunities I mentioned.” He leaned in closer with a serious expression on his face as he finally got to his point. “Young man, there is going to be an explosion of illegal drugs in this country in the next ten years, and our associates are going to a have a lot of cash that is going to need to be washed. Your job is going to be to wash it.”

  Mr. Mahogany continued explaining the various ways that my seat on the Black Council would be beneficial to everyone involved. The more he talked, the more intrigued I became. I was still surprised that I had no knowledge of this organization, especially after realizing how much control and power they had. I wondered if Lou and Larry knew of the Black Council’s existence. They sure had never mentioned it before. I also realized that if what Mr. Mahogany was saying was true, I now knew how Big Sam was able to finance a lot of his business transactions.

  “Well, are you ready?” Mr. Mahogany asked after allowing me some time to sit silently with my thoughts.

  “I have to discuss this with my wife and brothers.” As tempting as his offer was, I was not the type to make a decision without first weighing all the angles.

  “I understand having to discuss matters with your wife. I’m sure Belinda has already enlightened her a bit. However, your brothers can have no knowledge of the Council or your position. As far as they are concerned, you’re just branching out.”

  “What do you mean? My brothers and I always discuss business. I can’t do this without talking it over with them.” There was no way I could agree to do any of this without informing Lou and Larry, and even Levi. My brothers were the reason I had achieved anything in life. They financed my education and my first business. I damn near owed them my life.

  “I understand your feeling this way; however, this is for your protection and theirs. LC, this thing is bigger and deeper than you probably understand, but if you trust me, I promise you will learn the reasoning behind a lot of what we do. Your father was a good man, and like you, he was a brilliant businessman. His life was taken way too soon. I owe it to him to mentor you and make you into the man he was destined to become, had he been given the chance to live. And you owe it to him to continue the legacy that he started.”

  I stood up slowly and looked out of the picture window. Mr. Mahogany was right about one thing: my father had been a brilliant businessman. It was from him that not only did I inherit my love of cars, but also my love of numbers. He taught me how to count money, and often talked to me about the power that came with it. I had no doubt that had he lived, our lives would have been completely different, and he would have achieved everything Mr. Mahogany suggested. But how could I do this without the consent of my brothers? Was it worth risking the bond of our bloodline?

  As I stared out the window, a car pulled up, and EJ stepped out. He had a worried look on his face as he headed toward the building. A few seconds later, he was standing in front of me and Mr. Mahogany, looking grim. Mr. Mahogany picked up on his son’s mood too. He glanced at me and then pulled his son closer to whisper something in his ear.

  EJ leaned in close and said something I couldn’t hear.

  “Shit.” That was Mahogany’s response. I hadn’t known the man long, but his curse seemed out of character. “Are you sure?”

  “Positive,” EJ replied. They were no longer whispering.

  “Put our best people on this. I want to know who did this right away.”

  “I’m on it, Pop.” EJ nodded then left abruptly.

  Mr. Mahogany approached me with a dismal expression. Whatever his son had told him, it had to have been some bad, bad news. “LC, I think we are going to have to cut this meeting a little short.”

  “I take it something has come up,” I said, trying not to sound alarmed. After all, it was none of my business—or so I thought.

  “Yes, you could say that, but unfortunately, it has more to do with you than me.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “LC, we just got a call from your brother Lou. You’re going to need to get home as quickly as possible.”

  I did not like the sound of that. Immediately, I thought of Junior. Please tell me nothing happened to my son, was the quick prayer I sent up.

  Mr. Mahogany then delivered news that was almost as bad.

  “Someone has taken your mother.”

  Lou

  6

  Larry was still going around town busting heads when LC returned to Waycross, so I was the one who had to explain to our little brother what had happened to our momma. Of course, he didn’t take it well and wanted to bust some heads of his own, but once he calmed down, he went back to being the logical one. He took control by bringing the cops in, spreading money amongst the state and local departments.

  I didn’t like or trust cops, so after answering their questions and listening to their bullshit, I had to get some air. In my opinion, those greedy-ass pigs didn’t give a shit about bringing my momma home safely. All they wanted was LC’s money. Well, experience had shown me that cops weren’t the only ones who knew how to come up with information, and they damn sure weren’t the only ones who loved money, so I made a few calls then headed down Georgia Highway 13 toward Brunswick.

  I stopped at a Waffle House I frequented right outside of town, taking a moment to stretch before I walked in. I was immediately greeted by Izzy, a short, thick redbone who had easily become my favorite waitress after pleasuring me with her mouth in my car one night after her shift. I’d been meaning to try out that thing between her legs, but her husband, a truck driver, always seemed to be in town when I came around.

  “Well, hey there, stranger!” she damn near shouted as soon as she spotted me.

  “Sounds like you missed me,” I said with a grin.

  “A little bit.” She led me to a table in the back, handing me a greasy menu. “I’ll be back with your coffee. You want the usual?”

  “Yeah.” I swatted her ass as she sashayed away, causing her to giggle.

  Izzy brought back my coffee just as a skinny, light-skinned man about ten years older than me sat down in the chair across from. He looked very nervous.

  “I’m leaving for the night, Lou. Why don’t you stop by the house when you finish your business? We ain’t never really finished what we started, and my husband’s on the road for the next few days,” she stated boldly, not even trying to hide her cheating ways from the guy across from me. Grinning from ear to ear, she handed me a folded up piece of paper.

  I glanced at the paper then back at her, smiling. “I’ll see you in a few.” She walked away, and I turned my attention to the man sitting across from me.

  “You know those bitches is gonna be your do
wnfall,” Eddie Monroe said in his creepy-ass voice, looking around suspiciously, like he was in witness protection.

  Eddie was one weird fuck, but I tolerated him because he was also the best source for any type of information. Don’t ask me how he did it, but this scary-acting motherfucker was probably the most informed black man in South Georgia. If you lived within a fifty-mile radius of him, he could probably tell you what color drawers you were wearing yesterday.

  “Yeah, well, at least I’ll die happy.” I snapped my fingers to get his attention. “Hey, Eddie, face front. I’m over here.”

  It took a second, but he finally turned his head and concentrated on me.

  “Why the fuck do you keep looking around?”

  “Man, the walls have ears. Always remember that,” he whispered.

  “I hear you, man. So, listen. You hear about my momma?”

  He sat back in his chair with a grimace, his eyes once again darting around the diner, searching for God knows what. “Shit, the way you and Larry busted heads last night, everyone within a hundred miles of here heard about your momma.” He shook his head. “Was all that necessary?”

  “That was just the beginning. This is my momma we’re talking about.” I leaned in, all serious and shit. “You hear anything else about my momma? Like maybe where she’s at?”

  “No, just that you guys got a lot of people shook up, but information on that level doesn’t come cheap.”

  Shit never did come cheap with Eddie. I didn’t care, though; I would pay whatever it took to find my momma. I reached in my pocket and peeled off ten fifty-dollar bills, placing them on the table in front of me. He scratched his head then reached for the money. Before he could touch it, I smacked his hand, and he pulled it back.

  “Not so damn fast. I want to know who’s got my momma and where I can find them, Eddie, and I want to know yesterday.”

  Once again he looked around, paranoid, like the CIA or FBI might be watching. “No problem, Lou. I’ll give you a call as soon as I hear something.” He scooped up the money and moved like he was about to leave, but I grabbed him by the collar.