Russell,
Any rope, however resistant‚ finally snaps if you pull on it too hard. Mine snapped some time ago. It was only your mother’s gentle soul that grabbed the ends and kept them joined, providing you – without my knowledge – with money and the apartment you’ve been living in until today. After your last stunt, I fear that even her strength is exhausted. She has found herself faced with a choice: whether to maintain relations with a man she married some decades ago and who in the course of time has given her a thousand proofs of his love, or with a son who is beyond redemption, a son who has never, even at the best of times, been anything but a severe embarrassment to this family.
The choice, although painful, was freely made.
To use language you can understand: From now on, kid, you’re on your own.
Jenson Wade
P.S. If you had the good taste to change the name you bear, it would be a gesture greatly appreciated by us.
As Russell put it, when he finished reading, ‘So my bastard of a father has kicked me out.’
Zef assumed a fitting expression, which even included an embarrassed half-smile. ‘Well, I would have phrased it differently, but that’s more or less the idea.’
For a moment, Russell was lost in thought. In spite of everything, he didn’t feel like blaming his father for his decision. On the contrary, he was surprised it had been so long in coming. He wouldn’t have given himself all that time.
‘It’s all right, Zef, it doesn’t matter.’
He took the envelopes from the desk and put them in the inside pocket of his jacket.
‘Can I leave the bags here for now?’
‘As you wish, Mr Wade.’
‘Good. I’ll pick them up later. And I’ll swing by every now and again to see if there’s any mail.’
‘You know I’m always pleased to see you.’
‘OK, then. Goodbye my friend.’
Russell turned and headed for the door.
Zef’s voice held him back. ‘One last thing, Mr Wade.’
Russell turned and saw Zef leave his post and cross the lobby. He placed himself between Russell and the doorman and said in a low, conspiratorial voice, ‘I assume your situation is a little precarious right now.’
Russell had always been amused by the man’s decorous language. This time was no exception.
‘I think that pretty much sums it up.’
‘Well, Mr Wade, if you’ll allow me…’
Zef held out his hand as if in farewell, and when Russell shook it he felt the thickness of a few banknotes in the palm of his hand.
‘Zef, look, I can’t-’
‘It’s only five hundred dollars, Mr Wade,’ Zef interrupted him, with a knowing look. ‘It’ll help you to keep going. Don’t repay me until you’re back on your feet.’
Russell withdrew his hand and put the money in his jacket pocket. He accepted it for what it meant. To him and to the person who had offered it to him so generously and so discreetly. At this major turning point in his life, the only tangible help he had received came from a near-stranger. He put a hand on Zef’s shoulder.
‘You’re a good man, my friend. I promise you’ll get it back. With interest.’
‘I’m sure I will, Mr Wade.’
Russell looked Zef in the eyes, seeing in them a sincerity and trust that he, for one, was very far from possessing. He turned his back on Zef and walked out onto the street. Here, he stopped for a moment to think again about what had just happened. He put his hand in his pocket to make sure it was all true, that people like that still existed.
At that moment, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a movement behind him. A hand reached out of the semi-darkness and grabbed his arm. He turned his head to the right and found himself confronted with a tall, solidly built black man, dressed all in black. On the other side of the street, a large dark car switched on its lights and pulled away from the kerb. It stopped in front of them and, at the same time, as if the two things had been synchronized, the back door opened. Instinctively Russell looked around, trying to figure out what was happening. His guardian angel thought he was looking to escape, and saw fit to underline the reality of the situation.
‘Get in the car. Don’t do anything stupid. It’ll be better for you, believe me.’
Through the open door, Russell saw the thick legs of a man sitting in the back seat. With a sigh he got in the car and sat down, while the big guy who had so politely invited him to get in took his place in the front.
Russell greeted the man who was sitting next to him in the tone of an Egyptian greeting a plague. ‘Hello, LaMarr.’
The usual sardonic smile played over the fat man’s lips. His well-cut suit couldn’t compensate for his graceless figure, nor did his dark glasses provide any kind of protection against his coarse-grained features.
‘Hello, photographer. You don’t seem yourself. Anything bothering you?’
As the car pulled away from the kerb, Russell turned to look through the rear window. If Vivien had seen what had happened, she hadn’t had time to intervene. She might be following them. But he hadn’t seen any other car move out from the kerb on the other side of Park Avenue.
He turned to LaMarr again. ‘What’s bothering me is that you’re still using the wrong deodorant. Sitting next to you would make anybody’s eyes water.’
‘Good joke. Give the man a great big hand.’
LaMarr was still smiling. He signalled to the man in the front, who leaned over and punched Russell in the face. For a moment, the noise of flesh on flesh was the only sound inside the car.
Russell felt a thousand hot little needles puncture his cheek. A yellow bulb danced in front of his eyes.
Nonchalantly, LaMarr put a hand on his shoulder. ‘As you can see, my boys have kind of a strange way of showing their appreciation of humour. Got any more jokes like that?’
Russell sank resignedly into his seat. In the meantime, the car had turned onto Madison and was now heading uptown. At the wheel was a guy with a bald head and the same build, Russell estimated, as the man who had just given him such tender loving care.
‘What do you want, LaMarr?’
‘I told you. Money. I’m not usually involved in collecting, but with you I want to make an exception. It’s not every day I get to rub shoulders with a celebrity, which is what you are. Not to mention the fact that you’re really pissing me off.’
With a nod of the head, he indicated the man who had just hit Russell.