The List

“Careful, Bro,” he warned in an almost snarl. “I might just take a notion to get up and walk out of here, and you’ll spend the rest of your life lookin’ over your shoulder,” he warned slyly and I struggled to rein myself in. “Alright, alright, I’ll let you off the hook. You just stay where you are and we won’t have any trouble.”


I glanced at Auggie and could see her quivering, but couldn’t hold her; not then. Damn! I swore to myself. He was already coming between us! “Why are you using Linc’s name?” I asked as calmly as I could. I drew upon my psychologist’s ability to be objectively removed.

“That daddy of ours; he wasn’t such a good boy. You know what I mean?” He chuckled and took the soda that Auggie hadn’t touched. “I’m sure you don’t mind if I do,” were the first words he directed toward her.

“Go on,” I said tersely, again wearing my mental spectacles and holding my notepad as I remained detached while studying his facial expressions and body language.

His face went blank, even angry. “I was the baby born to him and that bitch she calls a mother.” He jerked a thumb in Auggie’s direction, not knowing that he’d have gotten no argument from her.

“Seems about the time I was born, he’d arranged to have me adopted, but that’s when things got a little screwed up. You see, ol’ Daddy was in to the syndicate. He owed them, big time. And there was this little matter of a jockey named Torez they found with a knife in his chest. Ol’ Daddy was knee-deep in shit but had his daddy and a whole lot of friends around here who kept him clean. They couldn’t get to him, so they did the next best thing.” He finished Auggie’s soda. It seemed he couldn’t have a complete conversation without punctuating it with something to drink. I made note of this and realized he was probably an alcoholic. He motioned to the waitress over my shoulder and she appeared within moments with a refill.

“Which was…?” I pushed him to finish the story.

“They gave him somebody else’s bastard and took me. I was the ransom!” His words held a defiant yet defensive vehemence. “Yeah, I got raised by a platinum floozy who petted cocks for a living,” he growled. “I grew up in a backwater shack in the Keys that flooded every time God took a piss. Roaches, snakes, ‘gators. Yeah, these were my playmates.”

“Why didn’t Father give them the money to get you back?” I challenged his story.

“Because,” his eyes narrowed with lifelong hatred, “our ol’ daddy was a cold-hearted bastard, Bro. He wasn’t about to let go of his money or take a murder rap on behalf of a bastard, even if I was blood. Hell, no! They’d always have me to hold over him. Nah, he chose to take another man’s bastard and raise him as a blueblood. He figured the odds were the brat had better genetics than I did, anyway.” His eyes flicked toward Auggie. “He got to keep his pride, his freedom and screw the syndicate at the same time. Only reason they let me live was to keep him from doin’ anything else, to at least keep his mouth shut.”

“You’re saying Father didn’t claim you to avoid going to prison?”

He twisted in his chair and his face came close to mine. “Tell me that wasn’t his style. I challenge you — tell me!”

I backed off. I couldn’t argue the logic of what he said and he’d obviously lived the life to prove it. No one outside the family, and possibly this syndicate as they were called, knew Father’s black soul. He was capable of everything — but more to the point — he was capable of doing nothing, which was worse. “So, if he wouldn’t claim you, why did they think he’d protect you by keeping his mouth shut?”

“It wasn’t me, Bro…” he leaned back and smirked at me. “It was you.”

My mouth must have dropped open as the import of what he said sank in.

“Surprised?” he poked me verbally. “Yeah, Bro… you were just sprouting in your mama’s tummy and he knew for sure he had an heir. He kept his mouth shut to keep you on this planet. The other kid, the bastard… did you ever think that maybe his accident was just a little too convenient?”

I fell back at this and heard Auggie’s small cry. “What are you saying?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve been keeping track. The floozy watched the papers from Louisville. I guess she thought she might find an angle some day and get some dough from him. Shame he shot himself, Bro. It woulda been kinda fun to meet him, just once.” His voice carried the threat that he would not have left his father alive.

“Linc’s car turned over in a curve. He was alone. Father had nothing to do with that!” I was outraged and not just at him, but at myself. How could I defend the man I hated?

“You’re smarter than that, Bro. Open your damned eyes! Look at me! I’m your spittin’ image; you and her.” He pointed at Auggie whose eyes were wide. She was still visibly shaking. I still couldn’t embrace her. I would be giving up position. I hoped she understood.

“What do you want?” I demanded. Brother or not, I wanted away from this creature and more importantly, I wanted Auggie away from his filth.

“Wondered when you’d get to that,” he snickered. “You figure you can just buy off anyone, is that it?” Why did he continue to provoke me? “Nah, no money, Bro. I don’t need much and I do okay on my own. Just want my family, that’s all.”

“Your family?” His words filled me with horror. “You can’t mean Auggie and me? You do that and you’ll get us all killed!”

“Exactly.” He slapped the table in gleeful irony. “Now you’re catchin’ on, Bro. The only thing that stands between you and the syndicate is me. You see, I picked up where good ol’ Daddy left off. I work for them now. As long as I do, they let me live. And now, I’m workin’ for your hide too.”

This didn’t make any sense. “Why would you want to be around us?” I posed the question with my psychologist’s demeanor — the only weapon I had against the insanity I was hearing.

“Because, Bro… you’re connected. You know people and there’s a little track down the road called Churchill. I need you to grease those connections and keep me employed. And if you do it right, you keep yourself and this lil’ filly here alive. Get it?”

“Leave her out of this!” I was boiling.

“Love to, Bro, but she was… let’s say, born into her role. Shame too... she’s a pretty little piece. If it weren’t for sharin’ eyes, I might like to take a poke at her myself.”