"Sounds like a winner to me," Arthur replied, then added, "If anyone has the tenacity and cash flow to cover the initial investment and startup for such a venture, it's you, my brother.”
"I hope you’re right. Having a financial reservoir helps. Not only does it help, it makes all the difference. As they say, money talks, bullshit walks."
The two brothers chuckled, laying a high five across each other’s hand.
"By the way, I'm also opening up a tutoring center next month for the underprivileged. It's sort of a pet project of mine's that's designed to help youths at the junior and senior high school level. I've got some great people who are in line to run the operation. I've already looked over dozens of applications and profiles and I think I've just about settled on three of the twelve or so top-notched administrators listed. The remainder of the staff will be volunteers."
"Tutoring, huh," Arthur nodded, then added, "You know, that’s really a swell idea. If only I had had a tutor in eleventh grade, I might have become a doctor," he chuckled. “That calculus really kicked my ass.”
"I know what you mean,” Kurt laughed. “Anyway, I believe there is a great need for it in the inner city."
"I'm definitely down with that," Arthur replied on a more serious note. “Matter-of-fact, I’m working on a bill that would basically provide similar services nationwide, throughout the urban areas of our large cities.”
“That’s great, Arthur. Let me know how it goes.”
“Sure thing.”
Leaning forward in his chair Kurt rubbed his chin then returned his thoughtful gaze to his brother. It was something that had been on his mind for some time now. "Look, may I ask you something on a more personal level?”
“By all means,” Arthur replied, leaning forward with clasped hands.
“Being a man in your position, a position of power, wealth and influence, how do you handle it all without getting the big-head or detached from your constituents?"
"It's rather simple, Kurt. I never ever feel that I am more important or any better than the most downtrodden person who supports me, and whose vote put me in office. I consider myself an equal with others. The only difference is that I am in a position where I may be able to make a difference in that person's life because of my position. Why do you ask?”
"It's just that a lot of people have come to expect great things from me. Some think that I can solve all of their problems with one wave of the hand, or with a stroke of a pen and my checkbook. Most of the time, people can find the answers within. Another thing, our people are going to have to learn to change their way of thinking in order to effect a change.
“A friend of mine came to me once. He saw a shortage of money as his problem, and not his inability to manage money wisely, as the problem. It’s easy to see how he keeps getting back into debt all over again."
"That's very true, Kurt," Arthur nodded in agreement.
“Then there’s always the special requests I get,” Kurt added. “Everyone wants a favor.”
"I think I see what you're getting at," Arthur chuckled, rising up to toss a used napkin into a nearby trashcan. "Kind of put you in the frame of mind of that Godfather movie, huh? All the favors the Don had to honor on his daughter’s wedding day."
“Yeah, though not so much here, in Tampa,” Kurt inhaled. “Only one person knows about my wealth here and she’s visiting the area. We’ll discuss her in a short while. But back in Trenton. I tell you, I had to get away.”
"Well, money brings power and influence, and power and influence, my brother, is what makes the difference," Arthur chuckled spiritedly, laying five on Kurt's hand. "Remember that always, and what I told you earlier. Now, let's get down to the real deal, the real serious stuff," he laughed, finishing off his drink. "Have you met any charming ladies yet? Anyone special, in particular?"
"Well, kind of, but she's spoken for."
"Married?"
"No, just in love."
"With the other guy, I presume?"
"That's what she tells me."
"Well, perhaps one day soon, she just may wake up and realize that it’s you she’s in love with.”
"I'm counting on it, Arthur. I care about this woman but in all honesty, I think I blew it. I mean, I could have gotten something going between us a longtime ago, but I just wasn't ready for a truly serious commitment. Then there’s the situation I have with Leslie. I told her that I’d give her a year to make up her mind on whether or not she wants to come back to me. In addition to this, it doesn’t help that my Tampa love interest is still fuming over the fact that she saw me at a club with another woman, especially after I turned down going out with her that very same night.”
“Who’s this amazing woman you, no doubt, are very much in love with?”
“Yvette Roberts is her name. Arthur, I know she loves me, despite this other relationship she’s got going with an old friend of hers. In my heart of hearts, I just know it."
"So you think she's with this other guy on the rebound," Arthur said, crunching down on a pretzel stick. “And all because she saw you with the other woman, right?”
"Could be," Kurt answered, taking a sip of his drink.
"I take it Ms. Roberts doesn't know about your vast wealth," Arthur said, finishing off his pretzel.
"No, she doesn’t," Kurt replied, leaning forward in his chair, with clasp hands.
"Smart move," Arthur remarked. "A very smart move."
“Keeping it anonymous has allowed for me to relax and enjoy people. I do not have to wonder if they are warming up to me because of my monetary windfall.”
Rubbing his chin, Arthur gazed in the direction of his daughters who were still watching television, then returned his gaze to his brother. With a calculating expression he said, “I see what you mean,” adding, “Excuse me, but did you not say a few minutes ago that there was only one person in Tampa who knows about your wealth?”
“Oh, I almost forgot…Roxanne,” Kurt answered.
“Roxanne? Roxanne Polite?”
“Yeah, my one time fiancée? She’s the woman I was out with the night Yvette saw me.”
“Roxy! How interesting,” Arthur said, munching on another pretzel. “Anyway, what’s she doing down here in Florida?”
“She is down here with her husband, Don. He’s an oil-executive type now. He was here to inspect oil platforms in the Gulf. The two are not on the best of terms.”
“I see,” Arthur sighed, patting Kurt supportively on the shoulder. “But let me ask you something, my brother. How is it that she is down here with her husband and you’re the one out dancing the night away with her?”
“Fate, my brother. That’s all I can say,” Kurt added, stroking the side of his head briefly with his hand. “Believe me, it’s not something I asked for.”
“You think Foxy Roxy may be after you because of your wealth?”
Kurt scanned his thoughts, then replied, “I honestly don’t know, bro.”
“Keep your guard up,” Arthur advised. “Remember, she is still a married woman. Ex-fiancée or not.”
As brothers do, the two talked politics and sports, and shared their views on Arthur raising two girls without the benefit of their mother, Arthur's former wife Belinda, who had succumbed to injuries received in a car accident two years earlier. It was during that time of tragedy and grief that Kurt and Arthur grew extremely close. It was Kurt who took in Arthur’s daughters for nearly four months, along with his wife Leslie, at a time Arthur was force to deal with the loss of his wife and running a re-election campaign.
The following morning his niece Alicia, who had recently gotten her driver's license, offered to drive her uncle to a nearby convenience store, in their rented Explorer, to buy some orange juice for breakfast. That afternoon the trio headed for the SUV and after a final round of hugs and kisses, Kurt complimented Alicia on her driving and bid his niece Trina and his brother Arthur goodbye.
It had been a long and busy day at the job and Kurt had been feeli
ng under the weather lately. He couldn’t wait to get home to rest. With his stomach rumbling like a diesel engine, he returned home and heated up some soup. He needed something he could slurp down, not chew. Something that would settle his upset stomach. With a warm blanket in hand, he seated himself down in his favorite recliner then ate his soup. Afterwards, he read the daily news and fell fast asleep.
Without warning, the phone rang, waking him up abruptly from his early nap.
Reaching for the phone Kurt collected himself and answered in a husky whisper.
“Kurt, darling, it’s me, Roxanne,” the voice answered, taken aback by the roughness of his voice. “Are you alright?”
“Just feeling a little under the weather,” he replied, then asked, “Where are you?”
“Still in Tampa.”
“Roxanne, I thought you had returned to Virginia.”
“That’s why I called. Don has been given a six-week extension. Isn’t that great!”
Hell no! This is not what Kurt wanted to hear. His life was complicated enough. He knew Roxanne would want to see him again. Hasn’t she caused him enough trouble as it is? Not that she was bad luck or anything, but it was beginning to seem like whenever she was around he would lose someone dear to him. First grandma passed away, now Yvette had abandoned him. But was he really being fair to Roxanne? Or was it just pure frustration? Be kind, he coached himself.
“So, they needed him to hang around a while longer.”
“Yeah, the safety problems seem to be more serious than they originally thought and he has to see that they are brought up to government safety standards before next month’s big government inspection.”
“I see,” Kurt said, downing about a tablespoon worth of cold soup left in his soup bowl. He wiped at his mouth with a napkin, then hugged the phone again.
“I want to visit with you sometime soon,” she told him, in a voice that said she was not taking no for an answer. “Please, it would mean so much to me, Kurt.”
“All right, Roxanne,” Kurt said in quick surrender. “Call me in a few days and I’ll let you know for certain, okay?”
“Sure. Talk to you. Bye!”
Hanging up the phone she paused to savor Kurt’s voice, which seemed to have regained its rich deep tone after a few seconds. She wished she could just be there with him to help him feel better.
Standing up she turned, with an excited look across her face, then just as quickly, she froze in her tracks, her face now a mask of fear. Standing in the bedroom doorway stood her husband Don, with his hands propped on his hips, a wide drunken smirk across his face. She had left him asleep in bed, or so she thought. She was not sure how long he had been standing there or how much he had heard. The fact that he was standing there, at all, was not a good sign.
“Who the hell was that?” he stammered. “Yah new lover or something?”
“Don’t be silly Don. That was my friend Annie, back home,” she lied. “You remember Annie, don’t you?”
“Yeah, I remember that good for nothing friend of yours.”
“Don, she was my maid of honor.”
“There’s no honor in that woman,” he grimaced, now walking towards her. “I know she slept with Carly Simpson’s husband. I know that for a fact. She’s nothing but a two bit whore.”
“Don, that’s not true. Not everyone is a whore just because you say so.”
“She is, I say,” he yelled, grabbing her by the shoulders roughly, his breath reeking of Scotch, his Irish accent more pronounced. “And yah ain’t too far behind her from being one yah’self.”
“Don, you’re hurting me,” she almost cried from the pain.
“Yah slut, I’m about to put a real hurting on yah in a minute,” he said excitedly, releasing his grip momentarily. It was his first day back and it had been over three weeks since he satisfied his animal lust. Away from his devoted mistress back home, Don decided his wife would have to do for the moment. After all, she was still a very attractive looking woman, especially at this moment, a moment of earthy need.
Looming large over her, he stared at her beautiful face, her full heaving breasts and felt a need to satisfy himself, now, at this very moment. He craved her warm soft body and the hot passion of her loins. Her sweet fragrance was driving him crazy. Yes, it had been some years since he last desired Roxanne in this desperate way.
Reaching out he cupped her breasts but she pushed his hand away in protest. When she refused to gaze into his eyes, after he complimented them, he really became annoyed. Like the savage he was he slapped her across the face, cursing her as she went down. “I don’t know why I married ya’r sorry black ass. Ma pappy warned me about yah from the start. He always said yah were only after my money.”
With eyes streaming with hot tears, Roxanne managed to stand up and dash passed him, regretting the day she ever laid eyes on him. “Don, you’re nothing but a low down dirty bastard,” she screamed, slamming the bedroom door behind her.
A second later he kicked it wide open, his eyes blazing with excitement at the chase. Walking over to the bed where she sat, looking sultry in his eyes, her short red skirt riding high on her thighs, he ripped open her blouse, buttons popping off one after the other, until her full breasts were exposed. Unfastening his belt, he unzipped his trousers and stepped out of them clumsily.
Terrified, Roxanne covered her breasts with both arms. Pushing her back onto the bed he Bogart his way in-between her thighs, eager to sample the goods. With a defiant look across her face, she brought both knees together and kicked him off of her. Not a good move. It only seemed to arouse him even more.
“Ah, so yah want to play rough, do yah,” he leered, rising up off the floor. “I’ve always admired the spunk in yah. Always loved to tame yah wild African pussy. I guess that’s why I’ve put up with yah so long.”
With that he penned her struggling form down on the bed and raped her, then again less than an hour later.
Chapter 16
The notion was almost amusing, to a degree, Kurt thought, now that he had money, being labeled a philanthropist by the press back in his hometown. To Kurt's friends, those who had known him for years, he had always been a philanthropist, and long before his sudden lottery windfall. If he had twenty dollars on him and a friend needed ten of it, he would give that friend the entire twenty. It was just his way of helping a fellow human being out. He reasoned that being a philanthropist only counted when you were rich. Well today was as good as any day for being one, for being that kind of friend.
Seated comfortably in his recliner, he made the final call and waited for the other line to pick up.
"Hello!" the frail voice said from the other end.
"Hello, Ms. Ruth," he began, then added, "This is Kurt. Kurt Douglass!"
"Kurt! Is that really you, Kurt? Oh Kurt!" the voice proclaimed joyously.
Ms. Ruth, a former elementary school teacher, and family friend, often took care of him as a little boy while his parents worked. She had been a godmother, of sorts, to him throughout his life, especially after his mother passed away, especially during the difficult time he went to live with his father and stepmother. In more recent times she had been a person he could share fond memories of his mother with. It had been nearly two years since he last spoke to Ms. Ruth. Now that he had her new phone number he only hoped that he could repay her, in some way, for her kindness and devotion to him during those early years.
"Yes, it's me, Ms. Ruth," he answered. "As you can see, it took me a while to get your new number. How are things with you?"
"Not so good, son, but the Lord is good and I know he will provide," she said. "I don't get around much like I use to. Kurt, you know that Ms. Ruth is sixty-nine years old now. And I am starting to fall apart, too," she chuckled. "My house is leaking. I need a new roof and new plumbing. My heater is out and I'm often left with no other choice but to use the kitchen stove to heat the place.
“Like Ms. Ruth's poor health, her house is falling apart, too. But sure
ly you did not call to hear about my problems. How are you son?"
"I am doing fine, Ms. Ruth," he replied, beaming. It pleased him that she thought of him as a son.
"You joined a church where you're living at now?"
"Not yet, Ms. Ruth. I am still looking for a church home."
"Where are you, son?"
"I'm in Tampa, Florida."
"Are you still married?"
"Nooo, not quite. My wife and I are separated. It just didn't work out like we planned."
"Oh, Ms. Ruth is so sorry to hear that. You're such a wonderful young man, Kurt. Did you and your wife have any children together?"
"No we didn't," he said, then continued. "We tried, but she had problems carrying to full term."
"Perhaps it was for the better," she added thoughtfully.
"Perhaps you're right," Kurt murmured, then added, "Ms. Ruth, I called to see how you were doing and to say that I remember, quite well, the times you looked after me and fed me and helped my family in time of need. Now, if you'll allow me to, I would like to return the gesture. If I may, I would like to help you out with your home repairs. I understand you are in need of some repairs around the house, as you have mentioned."
"Kurt, I couldn't ask you to take on that kind of responsibility. It's too costly."
"Believe me Ms. Ruth when I say that I am in a position to not only help you, but even put you in a new home, if it pleases you."
There was a pause.
"You're serious, aren't you, son," she said incredulously.
"Yes, I am."
"Don't tell me you hit the lottery or something?"
"As a matter-of-fact, I did just that," he chuckled.
"Well, bless your heart!" She exclaimed. "I'll call my son, James, after I hang up, and have him make the necessary arraignments with you, okay?"
“That will work,” he replied wearing a bright smile.
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