by Gary Sapp
take longer than those same couple of days to scrub off.”
“I’m sure recovering from your dependency will take more than a couple of days as well.”
“Amen,” Councilwoman Davis said gruffly. Her gaze hardened and she looked into the dresser side mirror and her eyes quickly darted away, ashamed at the truths the reflection revealed about her life. For a moment Roxanne felt a tremor of sorrow for her. “Perhaps I’d given myself into the audacity of hope…or whatever that means for me.” She refocused with some effort and found Roxanne’s dark eyes. “Listen, Little Girl, I know you all grown and have a job to do and all of that, but take this warning from me—you’ll want to steer clear of Carver.”
Roxanne ejected the rifle’s final shells and sat them on the nightstand. She found a spot right in front of Vanessa Davis. Victor Castillo wouldn’t have approved.
Someday, when the time is right, Gonzales and I will stop what we are doing here…and find you.
I will see you suffer for what you have done here down below.
I will see you suffer before your end.
But that was her own private apocalypse for another day, her Whirlwind. Tonight, she had needed an opened door when all others were slamming shut. She even had something to report in her phone call to Chris Prince a half an hour from now that she might not have without this conversation having taken place. And if showcasing the smallest bit of respect and pity for this woman was the price she would have to pay—
“Councilwoman, what is going to go down at Carver?” Roxanne asked and when the other woman didn’t immediately answer she added: “Please tell me.”
Fresh tears misted in Councilwoman Davis’ eyes. Roxanne couldn’t tell rather they were the result of the potency of the cocaine or from the information about Carver that the woman had learned from her tenure on the Board.
Yet, after a moment, Roxanne Sanchez realized that she’d shed enough of her own to know that these were genuine and true enough.
“Carver is going to experience a tragedy unlike any ever seen before.” And then Roxanne watched Davis’ face brighten with sudden mix of pride and wonder. “While as the same time Carver is going to experience a rebirth that will be glorious and long overdue.” And then Roxanne could not decipher if the hysterical fit that had taken hold of the other woman was laughing or crying. “Now that Xavier Prince is freed from prison, I expect Carver to experience a purging none of us shall ever forget.”
Xavier
The Circle had scheduled a meeting for 4:30pm sharp.
The President of Morehouse College was wearing a new suit, new loafers but had forgotten to brush his teeth. He shook Xavier Prince’s hand for a second time in as minutes when he and his four associates stepped into the school’s administrative conference room on the third floor and began to seat themselves at the large spit shined table.
The president’s assistant, a gray haired man who had that old eagle eye going audibly objected to the use of this seat of higher learning for A House in Chains affairs. He reminded his boss of the attacks 0f 411 and Pandora’s promise of more reprisals if Xavier and his people did not turn themselves over to local authorities immediately.
The president slapped his assistant warmly on the shoulder as if to say that everything would be fine, but never unfastened his gaze off of the One. He explained to his friend and colleague those attacks were perpetrated against People of Color in general and not A House in Chains exclusively.
Outside the room Xavier noticed that the campus was a bustle of activity as the students continued their preparations for graduation ceremonies that were only weeks away. With so many people coming and going about the Peacekeepers will be challenged to secure our place here. Yet, it warmed him to his marrow to see so many people that looked like him succeeding at such a high academic level. No, this wasn’t Princeton to be sure, but he wondered if he had missed out on a life experience by not attending a predominately Black school here in the South. Dad, I think you would have been proud of what are people are accomplishing, despite all of the challenges that we continue to face.
Isaac Prince.
Xavier wondered if the dreams that he had been having of his late father, especially in the days since his release from Calhoun State Prison meant anything in the grand scheme of cosmic events.
I’ll leave that speculation for another day. We have much business to discuss, the Circle and I, and time is short on so many different fronts.
The president allowed his Second to talk him into only allowing the Circle use of a smaller ready room on the far side of the corridor where they sat now. Quincy Morgan grunted in annoyance but Grace Edwards and the others lifted themselves from their seats and silently began the trek to the reserved area.
It was tight to say the least. The space…or lack thereof, seemed to squeeze them around the collar and the waist with its closeness and stuffiness. Nonetheless, a spectacular mural showcased up on the wall just above their heads was a jewel. The artist was as nearly talented a painter as his brother Chris was at drawing. The mural featured men who had done much to farther the cause of People of Color in America: Abraham Lincoln, Martin Luther King Jr., John F. Kennedy, and Malcolm X, his father Isaac Prince, President Adolphus Sweet…and himself were painted from left to right.
I’ve done nothing to deserve to be placed on a pedestal with these pioneers in the cause of justice and liberty for our people. He found himself mostly disturbed with the artist rendition that showed him facing out with his palms up in a Jesus like pose. I’ll say that I’m closer to the devil with the way I lead my personal life: I smoke too many cigarettes, drink a little much malt liquor, and whore around too often. In fact, after he spent the first 24 hours of his freedom with his boys, he helped escort them both back to their mother’ s homes and their lives and school while he returned to the Circle. He spent his second day mostly on his cell conferring with allies, attending press conferences and tending to other Executive matters that concerned A House in Chains.
My nights were far more relaxing though. He had bedded two women…at the same time last night. The thicker of the two seemed particularly eager to please him. She would whisper in his ear as she rode him, what do you see when you visualize our future, baby, and the other woman would respond between sticking her tongue in either of their mouths, I see hours and hours of drawing a line between pleasure…and pain.
He bit back at the self-criticism. The numbers that Grace Edwards provided him from the rise in Black illiteracy rates and the lowering of unwed child births to falling murder rates, drug arrest, felony convictions all told him he had done much in raising his people to new heights of prosperity and perception on his watch. However, our greatest challenges still lie ahead…and so do our greatest opportunities.
He decided—and not for the first time, that the liquidation by any means necessary of his people by Serena Tennyson and Pandora would not stand while he still lived.
The five members of the Circle sat at their cramped table and got to it.
Xavier placed a toothpick in his mouth. “I appreciate everyone’s attendance on such short notice—“
“Excuse me, Xavier,” Quincy Morgan eyed the entrance from which they had come. Aren’t we going to wait for Senator Lavelle to arrive?”
Grace Edwards shook her braided hair and peaked up from over her glasses. “The senator has been…let’s say, uninvited from Circle meetings until further notice.”
“Who authorized that?” Quincy asked.
“I did.” Xavier responded.
Quincy looked at his leader with inquisitive but respectful eyes. “Xavier, Lavelle is a United States Senator. He is an important man to both as an individual and as a front man to our cause.”
“And he would probably have been the Democratic Nominee for president two years ago if would stop displaying his faults for the entire world to see. Anyway, he’s not an official member of the Circle, and if he isn’t careful he’ll find himself out on his ass the way we culled Cou
ncilwoman Vanessa Davis and her cocaine habits from the Board.”
“The senator has no such habits that I’m aware of—“
“I don’t like the man, Quincy.” Xavier fixed his Sergeant at Arms, and newly positioned number two, with a hard glare. You were a friend and an ally, Ernestine. I will miss you deeply. He asked that they stand up once again to honor the city’s former mayor with a moment of silence. When they sat down again Xavier opened his attaché case that he’d brought with him, picked up a stack off of the very top and slid them towards Quincy Morgan. “I have complaint after complaint after complaint from other House staffers and other support parties about how they are spoken to and mistreated by the Senator from Ohio. He is a bully. I won’t tolerate his arrogance one second longer in this organization. US Senator or not, Anthony Lavelle better change his spots or he is out.” Xavier swung the toothpick around in this mouth from side to side hoping to calm his nerves. “Think of it, Quincy, these same types of questions of character got brought up about Lavelle during the primaries. He was this close to closing in on the nomination. America almost told the world that a second Black man, even one with open ties to our House, could be voted to the most powerful office in the free world. Do you realize what better position we would be in today facing down our enemies if Lavelle were