Sydney
The
library was the only peaceful place in the house. I could hide out
there for hours without anyone interrupting my thoughts and pestering
me with stupid remarks about the way I chose to live my life. “Being
La’Vou comes with certain responsibilities Sydney. Which means that
you should be cautious of how you conduct yourself in and outside of
these walls” is what my mother constantly would say to me as if I
honestly cared how the public viewed me. Hell my own kin didn’t
like me that much so how much weight could the opinions of Anyone
outside these walls really carry. Besides the folks outside these
walls probably regarded me in higher standing than my own family did.
It
was only in the last few months that I had even been allowed to
return back home after being shipped off to boarding school like an
untrained puppy my last two years of high school, and that was only
after I had refused to go to the college that my mother and father
had picked out for me and bought my way into. My grades where hardly
good enough for the Ivy League, of course my families money and name
weren’t.
And
since I was too stubborn to get some type of formal education and my
mother was graciously allowing me back into these stark walls I was
forced to join the working class and take a small job in the family
business. If I wasn’t going to go to school then I was going to at
least learn what hard work was. Of course I wasn’t big on hard work
and I wasn’t big on learning the family business. That is what my
dear big brother was for. Lawrence loved playing the good son. And
why not, he was so good at it. And I was so good at playing the
disappointment.
That’s
why I was hiding out in the library tonight. I’d skipped work today
to go play in the Quarter and I had no doubt that my father had told
my mother and as soon as she realized I was home she’d come to
lecture me again on the privileges of being a La’Vou and taking on
the respondsibilities that come along with such a prestigious title.
I just wasn’t in the mood, at this particular moment, for her
subterfuge.
So
I left my car in the city. Particially because I was slightly drunk
and driving wasn’t a good idea since I’d already embarrassed the
family once this month for being arrested for a DUI, and particially
because I wanted to avoid my mothers disapproving shrills. So I had
the taxie driver drop me off at the gate and I hot footed it through
the short cut I use to use through the trees when I was a
mischievious youth, and came in through the kitchen and skirted up
the back stairwell. If Martha saw me she didn’t act like it and she
hadn’t told my mother, YET. So I was safe for now. But even I knew
it would only be a matter of time before my mother realized I was at
home.
I
mixed myself a cocktail and let my body fall into the big chair
behind the big oak desk my grandfather use to sit behind. Papa loved
the solitude of this library too. He use tell it was only place in
the house that he could hide from grand-mere. I use to sit in this
same chair as a small child and pretend that I was a big important
man like my grandfather. He was big man roun here. Wealthies man in
the state, family money you know, mother would never let us forget
it. He was well respected too, but I don't think he cared for peoples
respect much. I guess he and I were a lot alike in that way.
Remy
La’bou as my grandmother so affectionately called him, was the most
powerful man in all Lousianna He was one the first black billionaire
to ever rise out of New Orleans. He was the son of a white slave
owner who had died with no white children. The man left all his money
to his black mistress, Grandfather’s mother, and not his white
wife, who died shortly after discovering this fact. My Grandfather
was a teenager at the time working for a shrimp boater. His mother
didn’t know what to do with all that money so she gave it to my
Grandfather and he in return bought a whole fleet of shrimp boats
which he used to amass the entire La’Vou fortune. Now my daddy owns
several small businesses across the country but the La’Vou fortune
is strill primarily made from Shrimp boats.
Pa-Pa
use to say: People say money don’t grow on trees, bu t that’s a
got-damn lie. The stuff is made from the shit, and We La’Vou’s
practically own the trees, thanks to me. So as long as you living and
you born of La’Vou blood then you shouldn’t want for nothing, I
made sure of that when I took my white daddies money and made my
black ass rich. I think my grandfather was the only person in this
family that really understood me. It was like he knew that I was
different from my daddy and brother and spoke to me as if he knew I’d
be treated differently by them all.
As
I sat back in his big chair sipping on my cocktail I wondered how
he’d feel about my daddy strides to merge his million dollar empire
with that of some rouge corporation. I’d only been working at
Prescott Industries for a couple of days, but the merger talks were
floating all around. My daddy was planning to merge Granddaddies
company with that of Ogelthorp Incorporated, a competing company. Now
I didn’t know much about the business but I did know plenty about
this family and granddaddies wishes and if he’d known what My
Father and brother were about to do, he’d most likely rise up out
of his grave and set this whole plantation on fire. It just wasn’t
right and I didn’t feel right being apart of it, but I knew it
would fall on deaf ears saying anything to either my brother or my
father. Niether of which listened to shit I had to say any way.
As
I guzzled down the last of my cocoktail I could see the police cars
pullng up the driveway from the library and I knew then that this was
about to be one hell-of-a-night. Finally there would be some
excitement in this retched house that wasn’t by my own doing. My
only other wish was that my brother had done something diabolically
out of character. Like gotten into a bar fight of some sort with a
one legged transvestite or committed some kind of Haynes crime. Now
that would definitely put a nice spin on the evening. Of course I
wouldn’t enjoy it nearly as much since my father wasn’t here to
hear the embarrassing news.
I
crossed the room towards the bar after I watched the two black and
whites circle the drive. Any embarrassment to my families good name
was always more enjoyable with a stiff drink. So I poured myself a
bourbon straight and made my way toward the stairs. By the time I had
reached the bottom stair case my mother was coming round the corner.
She looked polished as always. Dark blue blouse and black slacks that
accentuated her newly reshapened figure. Doctor Bradly had out done
himself this time around, I thought to myself as her eyes meet mine.
“Sydney
La’Vou, I want a word with you.” She said as she scowled at
me from the entrance to the dinning room.
“Answer
tha door first mother, you may want to have a word with the officer
coming up the walk first.”
“Sydney
what in the world have you gotten yourself into tonight?” She
asked with dread dripping from her lips.
“What
makes you think I’ve done something?”
I
said as I took a sip of my bourbon. The doorbell rang and she took in
a deep exaggerated breath. I loved how dramatic my mother could be
when she wanted to. She was like a well trained stage actress
perfectly rehursed for emotional gestures, dramatic pauses, and posed
exits. She
shifted toward the door but Roger got there first. When he opened the
door. Reginald Wallace, the Chef of Detectives and two other
unidentifiable officers were standing on our front porch. My mother
took Her cue.
“Reginald.”
She said in the sweetest voice she could muster as she moved towards
the front door. “ To what do we owe this visit?”
“Lydia,
may I please come in?”
Detective
Wallace asked with a hint of caution in his voice that made my flesh crawl. Something about the way he held his hat in front of him sent a chill up my spine. I took another sip of my drink.
“Well
of course Reginald you are always welcomed in this house.”
My
mother grabbed Reginald by the arm and escorted him in. I made my way partly down the staircase so that I could here what was going on.
“Yes
well this isn’t a social visit.”
My
mother shoot me a menacing look. I smiled and took another sip of my
Bourbon.
“If
this has anything to do with Sydney I assure you that I was just
about to handle him.”
“Is
that what you were about to do mother?" I asked sarcastically. "I thought you were about to
have a word with me.” I chuckled.
“Lydia,
I ain’t happy to say that this has nothing to do with Sydney.” Detective
Wallace interrupted.
“Do
you hate me to Detective.”
“You
know I don’t Sydney.” Detective Wallace peered over at me. “It’s
just I wish the news I was bringing was as trivial as some mishief
you’d been involved in Sydney.”
I
suddenly felt a lump forming in the back of my throat.
“Reginald
your scaring me now. What are you doing here?” My
mother eyes were pleading with him.
“Lawerence
sent me to come pick yall up.”
“Pick
us up?” My Mother’s hand went to her breast. “What ever for? Is
everything okay? Did something happen to Lawrence?”
“I
think yall just better come on with me.” Detective
Wallace patted my mother on the hand softly.
“Detective-“
I stepped down a few steps. “Nobodies going anywhere until you tell
us what the hell is going on.”
I
was trembling as the words trickled out of my mouth, but my tone was
steady as a stream of water. Detective Wallace’s eye met mine and
for brief moment I saw him struggle with himself as to what was
appropriate for him to say and what wasn’t.
“Sydney,”
He finally said after a heavy sigh. “Lydia, there has been an
accident.”
My
mother pulled away from Detective Wallace’s grip and nearly fell
over. I gestured for Roger and he ran to her side. I moved off the
stair case and placed my glass on the small table next to the door.
“What
kind of an accident Wallace?” I asked.
“Not
sure but your brother sent me to pick yawl up and he’s waiting for
yawl at the hospital.”
“And
My father?”
“The
docter can tell yawl mo.”
To Be Continued...
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