Some Prospects

I was talking to a couple of my buddies down at the bar today, and we got an idea. My wife thinks it's a little out there, but for the life of me I can't see why. We need something to get all of us outta this slump that we're in, and nothing more than a little investing is all that's required. The way we see it is, nothing can replace a bar. It's a social hangout and people always need to relax. We figure if we each put in about 10 grand, that should cover a down payment. Then, our profits will not only pay off the rest of the debt, but we'll get back our initial investment with interest in a matter of months! The best part is, my momma's insurance check for my pop, who just passed away, is comin' in tomorrow, all I gotta do is make her see things the way I see things. 'Course I'm seein' things clearly, it shouldn't be too hard to make her see things clearly too.

This Cannot be Happening

This cannot be happening, I refuse to believe it. All my investments, all my sister's tuition, all of my father's remains; wasted. I just gave it to him, my buddy, my partner. Willy Harris just took it and left! Didn't even bother to tell us why. Don't he have faith in god? He clearly ain't no god fearing man.... if I could see him one last time I'd...I'd...I don't know what I'd do. All I know is that now there's nothing I can do. I feel sick, I already got drunk today, I think I might do it again. I don't know how I'm gonna be able to look my momma in the eye, or my wife, or my sister, or even my baby boy. I just wish I knew what I could do to make everything right again, to redeem myself in the eyes of my family. I'll figure that out later, right now I don't really care anymore. I messed up, and I messed up bad. I took away the one thing that we needed, that we never had before; hope. I hope that my family can forgive me.

Let's call it...my redemption

I thought to myself, after what happened, after what I did, that I needed to do something. Something to make right what I had done wrong. So I started thinkin' of ways to make the money back, my father's blood money, my sister's tuition, our only prospect of leaving our old lives behind. My mind settled on Willy, Willy Harris. The man who I trusted my father's insurance money with, the man who done run off with the cash in the middle of the night, a man with no sense of right or wrong; the man who got what he wanted. The way he lived his life gave me an idea, made me think of Lindner. That man wanted his neighborhood negro free so bad, he was willing to pay us not to move into it, something like that has to be just a message from god. Or a test. Because when it came right down to it, I knew that if I were to take his money, I would never be able to hold my head up high and call myself a man. Unfortunately, I'd already called him over, so I would have to do something. And I did, when it came right down to it, I stuck with my convictions and told that white man off! He could do whatever he wished with his money, but I was getting my family out of the ghetto and into a life where they could rest easier. In a way, albeit not the way I had intended, I think I did make right. I think I did the right thing.