Chapter Three
CHAPTER THREE
The Gilded Cage
D addy sat on the other side of the glass at Angola’s state prison. He was a little grayer at the temples. Wiry and dull as his hair was, it matched the plain ashen walls. Blurred voices bounced around Roman, mixed with a barrage of obscenities—then a booming series of shrills filled the air like nails dragging down a chalkboard. The place smelled of bleach, cigarette smoke and mold.
“Oh, now you know that ain’t true, son.” Daddy chuckled, his eyes gleaming as the crow’s feet around them gathered and danced. “Plenty of cellphones, drugs, hooch, any thang you can get your hands on in here. The sky is the limit.” A bit of stiff silence wedged between them. Roman cleared his throat, breaking that block of stillness into pieces.
“You ain’t been usin’, have you?” He knew the answer, but he wanted to hear the words. Truth wrapped in poison, or perhaps it was the other way around.
The two men glowered at one another. Two sets of identical eyes: one pair young, the other older, or possibly that was the other way around, too .
“Ain’t no sense in me lyin’. I dabble here and there.” Dad shrugged, showing his pearly whites. Two had been missing for an eternity. Now it was only one that was omitted. Looks like he got to the prison dentist after all . “Nothin’ like before, though.”
Daddy always said that. Minimized his drug addiction. Claimed it, but with a long reach. A 4 th cousin twice removed.
“How’s ya mama?” His voice seized a rasp of exhilaration.
“She’s good. Other than her leg swelling up again.”
“That left one,” Daddy coughed in a tissue and set it aside. “She had that problem ever since she gave birth to Jordan. Doc say, ‘She needs to lose weight.’ I liked ’er bigger. Ya mama struggled with her weight after she started havin’ babies, Roman, but she’d lost the weight anyway on account of the doctor’s recommendation. Got down to skin and bones. She followed a real strict diet and the homecooked meals she used to make us turned into frozen shit from the store that ain’t have no flavor. Fridge full of fresh vegetables and fruit. Plenty of water. No salt. No butter. Vitamins that didn’t do nothin’ but turn her piss neon yellow. Even after all of that, that leg would still swell up like a balloon. She went back to the clinic. Doc say, “‘Take these pills.’” Daddy rolled his eyes as if reliving that moment. “Those pills made her heart run like a racehorse on cocaine. Made that leg ten times worse, too. Swole up so bad, she couldn’t get ’er shoe on.”
Roman nodded. It was true. Mama had edema and was on a constant supply of water pills and a bland, low sodium diet. She’d suffered from it for years. It was better now, but still not resolved.
“How’s ya mama’s job going? She still working at that shop that makes the stockings, slips and bras?”
“I told you she doesn’t work there anymore. Ain’t worked there in almost a year. She’s retired, a homemaker now. I help her out here and there, but she’s living fine on her husband’s salary.” The man’s brows rutted hard. Roman had seen his father about three months prior. Last time, he’d omitted the line about Mama’s husband. This time, he allowed it to fall off his tongue just as easy as a dead leaf in autumn.
“He isn’t no stepdaddy to any kid of mine. You got one father, Roman. That’s me.” He held up one finger. His nostrils flared.
“I don’t call him my stepfather. I call him by his name, Ronald. I was already grown and out the house by the time they tied the knot. He treats her fine, though.”
“Ronald McFuckin’ Donald. Backstabbin’ clown.” His face clouded with anger. “I should give your mother a call. I ain’t heard her voice in a mighty long time. Does she still make that walnut and raisin cake? Damn, that was good.” His expression softened.
“Daddy, why do you always ask about Mama? Y’all been legally divorced for ’bout fifteen years now, separated longer, and you’ve had a gang of women since her.”
Daddy shrugged, chewed his jaw a bit and looked over to his left as if the answer were sitting in that direction. “Sex, like and love are not the same. I never remarried ’cause I didn’t want to. Never loved a woman like I loved your mother—we just weren’t good for each other.” His jaw clenched. “I don’t care what no paper says. I love her still, and always will. That’s my wife in my heart and soul. I was incarcerated at the time at the J. Dale Wainwright Unit, and couldn’t fight for my marriage.”
“Daddy, Mama divorced you because me, Jordan and Dakota were put in foster care due to you two fighting, and your druggin’ and drinkin’ and what not. You weren’t in prison when she filed those papers. She did it so she could get us kids back in her custody. The court said the homelife wasn’t fit for children. It was either you or us. She had to prove to the court that we’d be safe if we were returned to her.”
Daddy’s eyes widened as if he’d seen a ghost. It wasn’t often that he and his father discussed what went on in the past—at least not the ugly stuff. For some reason though, Roman was tired of hiding how he truly felt about the unpleasant mess that happened then as of late. Maybe it was all this nasty business with Grandpa that made him spill his guts? Maybe it was the old men of the past making the young men of the future feel some type of way?
“Well, all I know is that I was locked up and before I knew it, I was being served, and my boys were being raised in some stranger’s house. I know that the Bradleys and Pitmans took decent care of y’all, and I know I’m supposed to be grateful, but I’m not.”
“You wouldn’t let Grandpa take us. He volunteered. We ended up being separated. It was for seven months, the longest of my life. I just wanted to go home.”
Daddy leaned back in his plastic white chair that wobbled on the right-hand side and crossed his arms. His eyes turned to dark slits, and his lips pursed tight like a clam.
“Your grandfather wasn’t an option, Roman. That son of a bitch didn’t raise me right and made certain my mama had a heart attack on account of dealing with him, so what makes you think me, or your mother, would let that gotdamn snake near y’all unsupervised? I’d rather my boys been raised by an axe murderer.”
“Trust me, I know why now . I’m just sayin’ that at the time, I never questioned it because we were at Grandpa’s house often, so he seemed okay. My reason for—”
“If you boys were at my father’s house, I was there with you. You best believe it. Me and your mama, or at least one of us. If neither of us could be there to supervise, y’all wouldn’t go. End of story. Now don’t get me wrong, my father loves little children.” Daddy reached for a bottle of water, took a taste, then set it down. “Treats babies good, even if it is for ulterior motives. Once the boys get into their teen years, that’s when the devilment begins. My father sees himself as some general forming an army.”
“You weren’t in his army. Did he still want you to treat him like a general?”
“My daddy knows how I’ve felt about him for years. Didn’t make it a secret. He said I was a screw up, and I said so was he. I blamed him for my failures in life, though as I matured, I realized some of the things I’ve done in this world ain’t all his fault. I gotta be a man about it, ya know…” Dad looked down at the ground and grunted. His complexion deepened as he ran his fingers through his straight tresses, pushing a few insubordinate strands away from his face. “But it’s hard being a saint, Roman, when all you saw was the sinner. I can’t protect you from him too well behind these bars. Power is addictive, but you must resist. Don’t join his company. It’ll be the worst decision of your life.”
“I told you, I told Mama, I told Dakota and Jordan that I didn’t want no part of Grandpa’s enterprise. Besides, deep down, Grandpa hates me and always has. He said I was tainted. A smart ass. A know-it-all. He said I was the only person who fit the bill of bein’ arrogant, greedy and spoiled, but still poor White trash all at the same time. After that trouble in the Marines, he said I shamed him, too… After you, of course.” Daddy grinned then chuckled—what he said was true as a bell that can’t be unrung. “But it never stopped him from wanting me. That’s what always bothered me. How can you hate someone, call them the black sheep of the family, but want them around?”
“He don’t hate you. He admires you. He sees your potential… you’re special.” He boldly met his gaze. “I ain’t got it. Dakota ain’t got it. Jordan ain’t got it. You got it.” He winked at him. “We all know what it was when we see it… just can’t put words to it.”
“I wish I knew whatever ‘IT’ is, so I could pretend to no longer have it.” He laughed dismally.
“The Devil is a good talent scout, son. You can’t hide your gifts from him no matter how you try. He ain’t got to like you to use you, boy. Your grandfather ain’t want me in his family company, either, and that’s why he thinks I hate him. Rejection. Rejection from the likes of him is a blessing. That isn’t it at all. I never saw it as an honor to be chosen, as my brothers who were handpicked did. All they could see was the money and power. The price for that is too high. You must sell your soul to party in hell.”
“I know he didn’t want you and you didn’t want him, but did you sell your soul, Daddy? Speak to me. Tell me the truth, man to man.”
“I know you’re talking about the money. Sometimes, even when money was tight, which was most of the time, I’d get my hands on something. Right before your birthday, or before Christmas, to make sure y’all had a good holiday. That wasn’t from Cyrus. I never asked my papa for a dime. Don’t matter where it come from… but it wasn’t from him.” Dad grunted and shifted about in his seat.
“You never saw him as an option? Not even once? From my understandin’, he helps take care of his children that he doesn’t employ, too, just not all the time.”
“Look here, Roman. I’ve done a lotta stupid things in my lifetime, but my judge of character is always top notch. I know an evil motherfucker when I see one. You borrow a red cent from my father, you may as well have borrowed a billion dollars. It all means the same. Your grandfather had what he needed and then some, to be successful. But he got greedy. He wanted all the money. All the power. All the control. All the women he desired. He wanted to be worshiped and looked up to. Feared. Daddy is a swindler, a schemer, a phony, and wicked to his core. Sly as a fox and slick as a serpent. He pretends to be a friend when he’s a foe, and he pretends to be a Christian when he worships Satan and does his bidding. That cross around his neck might as well be upside down. He’s a trinity, all right. He ain’t nothin’ short of the Grim Reaper, the fallen angel, and the unholy ghost.”
The air thinned out at that moment. It felt like standing upon a mountaintop, perhaps ready to jump to one’s death. Roman wasn’t certain if his father was speaking figuratively or literally. Either way, it all came out black in the wash.
“Funny you should bring the old man up, Daddy. Your father is puttin’ the squeeze on me.”
“He’s been tryna get his claws into you since the moment you were up on your feet and walking. What’s he done now ?”
Roman slipped the letter Grandpa had given him out of his pocket, unfolded it, and pressed it against the glass. Daddy removed his reading glasses from his prison jumpsuit pocket, slid them on and began reading, line for line. Roman went to the second page, and Daddy kept right on reading. When he was finished, he said so. Roman folded the letter back up and tucked it away.
“Did all of my nephews that he has his eye on get the same letter?”
“From my understanding, all the letters are tailored to each of us. Not a simple cut and paste. We all received a version of the same. All of us that won’t comply.”
“Who all is involved?”
“Well, there’s me, obviously. Lennox, Ryder, Kage, Phoenix, Journey and Maddox.”
“Well, shoot me fast and call me Shirley!” Daddy burst out laughing and slapped the table in front of him. “Woooo Weeee! Ryder and Kage?!” He rolled his eyes. “That’s hilarious. Kage is out of his fuckin’ mind. That’s the last relative I’d want near me if he hated my guts. Kage is a wild animal. When he was just a kid, he tried to kill your grandfather.”
“I know.”
“And Ryder got darkness in him… a darkness that ain’t like my father’s, but it’s something else… somethin’ eerie. Ryder is smooth and easy, and rough and hard all at the same time.”
“He keeps to himself.”
“Mmm hmmm. Just like his daddy. God rest my brother’s soul. Yeah… yeah… it makes sense.” Daddy shook his head up and down and stroked his short, dark beard. “All of y’all were trouble. Your own men. The nephews of mine you mentioned, including yourself, are leaders, not followers. The same reasons he can’t get cha; are the same reasons he wants ya. He ain’t gonna let this shit go. You’re going to have to make him turn you loose.”
“How much money do you need on your commissary?” Roman switched gears and whipped out his cellphone to pull up the app.
“As much as you’ll give me.” He tossed up his hands in resignation. “Your mama used to do it, but I think that husband of hers made her stop.”
“Well, you wouldn’t right like it if your ol’ lady was payin’ for noodles and cupcakes for her ex-jailbird husband, either.”
“I ’spose not… but that’s still my wife. I had Bonnie first.”
“That’s the second time you’ve said she’s your wife. She ain’t. She’s a person, not a piece of property.”
“I know that, boy. I’m just sayin’, ain’t nobody gonna love that woman like I do. What a double-crossin’ son of a bitch!” Dad yelled, his voice drawing the attention of others.
Roman knew what he was talking about. Mama had married a corrections officer, one of the guys she used to see when she’d visit Daddy years ago at the Coffield Prison in Texas. One of his many stints behind bars. “Dakota had another baby… a lil’ girl. Veronica. Pretty little flower she is. I ain’t seen my grandbabies. Just pictures. Tell him to bring my grandbabies, please. He’ll listen to you.”
“Dakota got his own problems, Daddy.” He peered down at his phone, adding funds to his father’s commissary as he sat there listening to the man ramble on.
“Like what? He’s divorced now, right? He can start over.”
“He said Fanny took everything. The furniture. TVs.”
“All that shit is replaceable. He knew she wasn’t no good when he stole ’er from her fourth husband. As my mama used to say, ‘How you get them is how you lose them.’ Fuck her, but he’s making excuses, if ya ask me.”
“That ain’t it, though. He’s on that shit again.”
“The pills? Oxy and morphine?”
“Yeah. He’s been in and out of rehab. Jordan’s got his vices, too.”
Daddy huffed, and they wallowed in silence.
“I fucked y’all up, didn’t I?” Daddy’s eyes turned darker. Glossy. Emotions welled up fast.
“We all fucked up back then.”
“Well, I was the adult. Y’all was just kids when the dumb shit started.” Daddy ran his hand shakily across his face. “I had a drug and drinkin’ problem, and it made y’all think I didn’t love you, that I wanted the drugs more than y’all, but that’s not true. I ran around on your mama a few times, too.”
“Well, Daddy, as you said, some of our shit was you and Mama’s fault, but a lot of it ain’t. We’re grown men now. We were taught right from wrong, even if you and Mama didn’t always follow your own rules or set the perfect example. Gotta take accountability. We know when we done wrong.” Daddy nodded in agreement. “I got into fights because I couldn’t control my temper. I wanted to fight. I stole because people had things I wanted. I felt like I deserved all of that more than they did, so I took those things. I didn’t care about the consequences or my reputation. I ’spose that’s why Grandpa feels I’m a Black sheep.”
“You ain’t no black sheep.”
“I appreciate that, but in some ways I actually am. I still don’t care what folks think of me, although maybe I should from time to time. I don’t care about much.”
“You care about your career. You always loved money.”
“I’ve been thinkin’ about that, lately. Tryna get another promotion ’nd all. I think money makes me feel protected. Comfortable.”
“That’s ’cause you grew up dirt poor.”
“Yeah, I ain’t never have it, and now that I do, I never want to risk this feeling of security going away. At least, that’s what I think is going on.” He shrugged. “That’s the only reason why I don’t fall into my old ways. Not out of nobility or morals… but because I like my freedom and my lifestyle.”
“Well, that’s awfully self-aware of you, I suppose.” Daddy chuckled. He smiled back.
“I’ve done a lot of things that were wrong, and I knew they were wrong before I done them, while I done them, and after I done them. Now, I’m just glad a few folks believed in me and gave me another chance to prove I was worth a damn. I finally have a good career, a nice place to live, and the life I always wanted.” Is it the life I’ve always wanted? I’m still not sure. Something is missing. I’ll say that I’m fine, anyway. Wouldn’t want Daddy thinking otherwise.
“I’m proud of you, Roman. The way you’ve turned your life around is something impressive.”
“Thank you, Daddy.” It meant a lot to him to hear those words, far more than he realized. Daddy didn’t pass out compliments often. He could feel his chest warming, and that sensation spreading throughout his body.
“You say you have the life you always wanted, huh?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Where’s your wife then? The babies? Where’s your family? You’re going to be thirty-six soon. By your age, I had two sons, we’d lost a baby, and I had started truckin’.” So now I must explain my lie, with another lie. Daddy knows I’m full of shit. It doesn’t matter; I’ll talk my way out of this the way I talk my way out of everything else.
“Daddy, you’re old-fashioned. Not everyone wants to be married and have a bunch of kids. I prefer bein’ single. I mean, I don’t mind a girlfriend, but marriage? Naw. She’ll do me like Fanny did Jordan—take everything and run off with the pool boy,” he joked.
“I guess in some ways I am a little old-fashioned, and I know some folks want to be single and childless, and that’s their right, but not you.”
He was casually amused at such a statement. “I know what I want and don’t want.”
“I don’t know much, but I know my children. I know your hearts. That’s probably the only thing you’re afraid of, Roman.”
“I ain’t afraid of commitment, if that’s the road you’re trying to drive down. I ain’t afraid of marriage, either. It’s just not for me. That’s a beautiful thing, nothin’ for me to be afraid of. I understand it and see why some folks want that lifestyle.” He scanned his phone and read a text message from work, then said, “I put a nice chunk of money in your account.” He placed his phone down.
“Thank you. I didn’t say you were afraid of commitment, marriage or kids. I’m sayin’ you’re afraid to trust. You don’t trust most people, Roman, and you damn sure don’t trust women.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He glanced leisurely at his watch. “We don’t have much time left so I better—”
“Damn… you don’t remember, do you?”
“Remember what?”
“The awful thing you said to your mother when she got you out of foster care?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Daddy leaned back in his chair, scratching the side of his head as his gaze pierced right through to his soul.
“Your mother and I weren’t officially divorced yet, and we were tryna see if we could reconnect. Of course we had to be discreet about it, considerin’ we’d lost our children to the system, and I wasn’t supposed to be in the house or near y’all. One night I come over there, and she was cryin’ her eyes out. I asked her what the matter was, thinking it was something I had done as was usually the case, but she said it wasn’t me at all. She looked me square in the face and said you really hurt her. I remember it, because I had never seen your mother so upset, and I’d never heard of you being so verbally ruthless to her before. I asked you about it way back then, and you admitted you’d said it.”
“You’re beatin’ around the bush, but if she’s talking about that time I called her an ‘asshole,’ and another time, a ‘hag,’ I apologized for it several times! I hardly doubt that was worth havin’ a come to Jesus moment.” He scoffed. “Lord have mercy, I was only like, thirteen, Daddy, and she grounded me for a month for something that Dakota did, but I got blamed for it because I was considered the bad son of the three of us.”
“Naw, that’s not the time she was referring to, Roman.” Daddy clasped his hands. “You said, ‘You’re a bad mother, Mama. An awful mother. You don’t deserve kids.’ She asked why you’d say a thing like that, said it came out of the blue. You stood taller and told her, ‘You took forever to come get us. You didn’t want us. I hate you, Mama. You’re weak, and I hate weak people. You ain’t nothing to me. Everybody else had their mama but us. I wish I was born to someone else. I can’t trust you!’ ”
Roman swallowed the lump in his throat. “I don’t remember sayin’ that.” It was much worse than he’d imagined. His memory was always golden, something he bragged about. How could such a thing slip his mind?
“I think you do, Roman. I think you remember it quite well, seein’ as the teachers always said what an amazin’ memory you had, boy. You could read a passage and recite it word for word. That’s why you were always so good at those schemes you used to pull on folks. You could look at a person, place or thing, make ’em out real fast, and go into action quicker than a finger snap.” He leaned close to the glass. “Problem is, you don’t want to remember it, so you probably blocked it out. It was a turning point for you. The day trust died. Son, you can lie to the folks you charm all day, every day. You’re a big hotshot now at that impressive job. Fancy cars. Pretty women. Lavish parties and clothes. That’s just a smokescreen to hide the dirty black sheep that you believe yourself to be.
“You ain’t just greedy with money. You were greedy with your mama’s love, too, and that’s understandable. The moment you felt she didn’t love you, you died a little. Felt poor deep inside. Riches ain’t wealth. It’s love. Without love, we ain’t got shit. You can’t lie to me… I see me in you…” Daddy bit into his lower lip. “I see a bit of your grandpa, too… You got a little something he didn’t have at your age, though. Something he had to learn to pretend to possess.”
“What’s that? Since you think you know me so well even though for at least forty percent of my life, you were behind bars in either Texas, here in Louisiana, or Georgia. How can you know someone you ain’t see half the time?”
“That don’t hurt me, boy. I know you’re trying to hurt me because you don’t like what I said. You got that from me, lashin’ out when the pain gets too big and wide. You’ve got electric charm and sharp-edged charisma. That’s all smoke and mirrors. Like I said, a magic show. You cope in your own way. You ain’t no drug addict like me and your brother. You ain’t a drunk, either. You don’t eat too much when you’re depressed, like your mama would do from time to time, but you don’t trust nobody far as you can throw them… ’specially no woman. You lost faith in me a long time ago. Your mama was all you had, so when she kept me around even when those Child Protective Custody folks told her to turn me loose or risk losing y’all, and she didn’t at first, to you, that was a slap in the face. Like I said, she was all you had. Dependable. A part of you probably feels like you don’t even deserve a good woman, with all the dirt you’ve done. Wilde men are calculating and complicated… you’re my blood. My boy. You’re the most like me outta my children. I know you, ’cause now, I finally know me …”
Roman wanted to defend himself. He wanted to make up a story, spin a tall tale. Instead, he sat there and smiled at his father. On the inside, he was cracking. On the inside, he was burning like a flame on wood.
“I might die in here, Roman. This prison here ain’t for the faint of heart. I might have a heart attack like my mama and end up in the hospital for years, unable to talk. A vegetable. I might get into a knife fight and end up on the losing end. These motherfuckers in here know who my daddy is. That makes me a target. For better or for worse, thank God I know how to fight, or I would’ve been dead years ago. I did two things right. I taught my boys how to do magic, and I taught my boys how to fight.”
“Yes indeed, you did.” Roman ran his hand along his knee, itching to get out of there.
“One day, I’ll be too old to take on these youngins rollin’ in here with a chip on their shoulder, an axe to grind, and a point to prove. Mostly Black men are in here… and the only way for me to be completely protected is to join a white supremacist posse, which I have refused to do since I don’t believe in that. It’s the chance I’m willing to take.” Daddy shrugged and sighed.
“Why don’t you just pretend to agree with them until you can get out of here? Fake it until you make it? You might make parole and then be able to leave this all behind you.”
“Once you hook up with somethin’ like that, it leaves a mark on you that can’t ever be erased. It’ll be in my record, too. Besides, that’s not the Wilde way. I would be lying to save my own ass. That’s what cowards do. I don’t think a man is better than another based on his skin color. I just don’t.”
“You and Mama raised us to judge folks by their character, not their color.”
“That’s right. Some of our family is racist though, Roman. We even got a couple Klan members from way back when.”
“I know. They tried to keep it on the down low back then though I guess. Now that shit is out in the open. Proud with it. Funny how times change for the worse. More knowledge and progression didn’t seem to help much.”
“Good Christian folk, right?” Daddy smirked. “The darkies are getting into heaven, too, but it’ll be segregated, they’d say. Such bullshit.” He cackled. “Never heard the N word being thrown around like a hat at church or family functions, but it was implied, and we all knew how some of the great uncles, aunts and so on felt about such folks. I might be a druggie, and I might be a lush, boy, but I got to stand for something.”
“That’s true… we all gotta stand for something, now, don’t we?”
“Hating someone for the color of their skin ain’t right.” Daddy held his chin a little higher. “I hate plenty of men. Black men. White men. Spanish men. Makes me no difference. I’ve had good folk in my life, too. Folks I care about, of all races. Trust is earned. But first, we must trust ourselves.” Daddy clasped his fingers and leaned forward. “Roman, I got this feeling that I don’t have a lot of years left.”
Now it all makes sense… He’s confessing before it’s too late. Having the dark chats before the final curtain call.
“I need to tell you everything as it comes to me. As I remember it. No holdin’ back. You’re the only child of mine that comes to see me regularly.” Roman smiled at him sadly. “I’ve known about you being in jail, recently,” he whispered. “Word gets around… I can’t protect you from him in here, like I said, but I can give you some words of advice. Do you want them?”
“I’m listening.”
“Trust yourself. Whatever your weakness is, he’ll use it against you. Confront your limitations. Master them. Conquer them. Whatever weakness he sees in you, there’s a version of it inside of himself, too. He hates you because you have some attributes that he never had but wanted. You’re a ladies man—was like that even when you were dirt poor. Daddy didn’t start getting primo pussy until he struck it rich. You ain’t have two pennies to rub together and you were getting women that looked like something from the Playboy mansion. You were my worst behaved child. My sneakiest child. My most charismatic child. You are me…” A tear dropped down his cheek. “You practically glowed when you walked into a room, even as a lil’ boy. Trust your light. Deal with your darkness before it swallows you up…”