A Little Bit of Sin Chapter 19.1

i miss my music :-(

i lost my Zune :-( and i'm missing my music. This weekend I was on the way to a friend's house to help her with her website. www.legacynews.wordpress.com. Anyhow, I was driving my sister's car (because I haven't gotten a car yet). Remember last story my car broke down . I was driving my sister's car and the axel, tire rod and suspension BROKE in the middle of Woodward. If you know Detroit, you know Woodward is a very busy street and I was real shaken up. I'm figuring that woman knows it was going to break. It just broke on my watch. I used all my emergency cash on fixing her car, but I think when I stepped out of the car, shaking and hoping no one would hit me, the Zune must have fallen to the ground.

I am so mad a myself! But I was tramatized. I haven't had a car mishap in so long, I didn't know how to take this. Good thing I had AAA. They towed the car and my mechanic fixed it, but after all the trama, I started looking for my Zune and I couldn't find it.

I have a feeling it was lying in the middle of the street until of course someone picked it up and took it!

I never appreciate my Zune when i had it enough.

My creativity actually feeds off of it and without it, I feel stuck.

I'm going to go crazy.

I can't get another mp3 device until next check so i'm running pretty slow. i feel like i have something to do but i need caffine, but i can't afford to get a cup of coffee.

I've been debating on just buying a cheaper version and using it until I can get my Zune back. I found an MP3 on Amazon and I'm salivating right now just staring at it because I miss Brian McKnight in my head.

(paused tying here).

I just put it on my wishlist.

Feeling so sluggish.

But I'll try to have another chapter tomorrow.


:( enjoy...

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Colin hesitated before going through the door. Entering his old life hit him like a stack of bricks and feeling the past around him was like pulling on old skin that just didn’t fit anymore. His arms felt tight and his skin felt itchy.

“Everyone’s excited about having you back,” Edward said enthusiastically, moving away from the door to allow Colin to step in.

“Hold on,” Colin said uptight, coming in the home and shutting the door behind him. “I never said I was back. The only reason I came here was out of desperation, which I explained to
you over the phone.”

Edward smiled as if sucking in a lie for him. “Have a seat, Colin,” he insisted.

He wanted to refuse because every part of him didn’t even want to be here.
They stared each other down across from each other in a silent challenge.
Edward gave in first smiling in a cajoling way. “Now Colin, I knew your father well and I’ve known you very well.” He rose to make himself a glass of whiskey and offered some to Colin.

“You knew what you wanted to know about them and I,” he sneered, shaking his head refusing the offer. “Keeping him firmly high on drugs just s your son did me, kept him in control of certain things that you needed.”

“Like what?” Edward asked trying to sound innocently, shuffling uncomfortably.

“Like the bank my granddaddy owned. The one you hid all your money in.”

“Yeah, your granddaddy’s bank,” he said fondly. “But you know I had to move all my money out before those niggars found it.”

“Or that’s what you told everyone, right, Edward.” His memory had always been fuzzy from those days with Frank. Usually an item or words triggered things, but he wasn’t getting anything. All the way up, he was hoping maybe coming back would trigger something despite his reluctance to be here. These people were a bunch of mistrustful evil racists who didn’t even trust the government. They didn’t put the money in the bank and he was positive where Edward’s money was could have died with Frank, but Edward didn’t want to admit it.

Again the old man shifted uncomfortably by Colin’s words.

Backing off a little to get information out of Edward, Colin said calmly, “I didn’t come her to have a battle of wits or try to challenge what the right thing to do by anyone, whether they black, blue or green. Makes no difference to me anymore. I just need the money you said you could give me when I called. Now I promised you I’d pay it back as soon as I get it.”

“Returning the money is not the problem, boy. We need good men like you. Good men who’s going to lead well and not be seduced by the things of this world.” Edward began to become excited and looked as if he were about to salivate. “I see within you great power, Colin. I see a positive future for us to rise up again and have the power we used to have.”

“You see someone that reminds you of Frank’s memory. The person you knew as Colin McGhee is not the same man who sits in front of you now. You didn’t agree to give me the money thinking I’d come back here to involve myself, did you?”

Edward gripped the glass of whiskey tightly. “You ain’t trying to forget where you came from. That city living ain’t erased what’s inside you.”

“City living?’ he asked letting his frustration come to the surface. “Being in that jail suffering from withdrawal and guilt in that cold ass cell by myself was enough to understand where I came from Edward and all that I had believed in, Edward.”

Coming here to ask for the money had been a big mistake and before he forgot he was supposed to respect his elders, he knew she should get out of there.

Standing up, he headed for the door, but stopped when Edward called to him in desperation.
Reluctantly turning around, he watched Edward pull out a crumbled envelope from his back pocket.

“It’s all there with no strings attached,” Edward said. “But I gotta ask you something.”

“What?” Colin asked warily not making a move to take the money.

“Did Frank tell you something like a combination before… well, before he died. Mark said you were the last to speak to him before the accident.”

He didn’t hesitate to answer when he said, “No. We went on the errand to the bank like you told us, handed that clerk the paper and that was it. Why?”

Edward sighed in disappointment. “You’ll know sooner than later. This is the last of my savings.”

Looking down at the envelope, he still had not touched it. “What do you mean the last of it? Before I left you were deep into millions.”

“I mean just what I said, Colin. Other than what you’re holding and this land, there ain’t money for us to live on.”

Was this a ploy to get something form him? “Why are you giving me this if it’s your last?” he questioned.

“I’m a cruel man, but fair is fair, Colin. You deserved more than this for what you endured and as much as you’ve suffered.” A look of guilt and remorse racked his face. “That boy ain’t spoken one word to me since his Momma died. Mark thinks all the hate and selfishness in me killed her. Somehow his conscious kicks in and starts hating me for making us live in squalor. Pan up and got an education behind my back and now wants to finish the fight to not give them a dime I started with that family.”

“I tried to tell him there ain’t nothing to fight about. If it wasn’t the family then it was the debts that I owe that took the majority of the money.”

Colin was still confused even though Edward had spoken plain as day. “But how? You were super rich.”

“Off of ill-gotten gains and after the I.R.S. audited me twice, I barely have anything to wipe my ass with. But I didn’t tell Mark this, nor his mother before she died.”

“So all this time you let people think you were hiding a bunch of money and you’re really not?”
He didn’t know weather to believe him or not.

Modestly, Edward admitted, “I was hiding some, but only until this day.”

“The day I knew I was going to have to answer for what I made you do in order to keep my son’s name in good standing around these parts. You could have told the world. Even after his death you still could have talked, but you didn’t and for that, this belongs to you.”

Was this a guilty conscious that Colin never expected to see in Edward? “And Mark? What doe he know?”

“He just thinks I’m holding back money. He’s becoming more and more resentful to me and the brotherhood.” There was a fear in his eyes.

“What do you think he’s capable of Edward?”

“I think he’s capable of a lot of things just like his brother.” A regretful look fell on his face.
“Guess when you decide to grow hate there’s no way of controlling it once it gets to it’s full potential. Now don’t get me wrong, Colin, I’m not regretting the hate I put in them boys for niggars or any of those other minorities that want to call themselves Americans, but they just lost the right way…” He faltered unsurely. “Now I don’t know what to do with Mark.”

“There’s no right way to be evil, Edward.” Colin turned away before he reached out and took the money he desperately needed. His gut wrenched knowing he was turning his back on his dream, but his conscious just couldn’t make him take the envelope. He was not going to be paid for doing the right thing. “Keep your money. You need it more than I.”

It took a moment for him, but he forced his feet to carry him to the door.

“Wait, Colin! Please,” Edward called desperately. “Can you remember if Frank said anything to you about the bank? About anything?”

“I could barely remember the time of day,” Colin said. “Why is that so important?”

He went to a desk full of paperwork and shifted some things around before he drew out a large legal size manila envelope. “Forensics gave me this after Frank died. It’s the forensics on Frank’s car and the woman’s car. It wasn’t important for the trial, but for some reason the county sheriff thought Frank was trying to leave me a message because he knew he wasn’t going to make it.”

Colin took the envelope and looked through it. Edward pointed to a picture of the inside of the driver’s door at the lower bottom. There was incoherent scribble in blood. Upon closer examination it read, “Box, Bak, Colin.”

That was certainly confusing because Colin really couldn’t remember any bank box and he certainly didn’t know anything about any money. He hadn’t stepped foot in the bank since he was little – or at least that’s what he could remember for now.

Edward sighed in frustration. “Frank was slowly taking over things with the brotherhood and my personal finance. To hide a lot of things from the DEA before he died, I put things in his name the day before the accident.”

“At the bank?” Colin questioned. “You know he hated banks.”

“I know, but I thought since he did, he wouldn’t step foot in there and touch anything. After he died, I found out a lot of the money I thought was there: wasn’t, but I knew if I made a big thing about it, people would get suspicious. His mother was his benefactor, but after her death, it was even more difficult to find out what happened.”

“How much did you turn over to Frank?”

“It was about a million, but when I went to the bank, they said there was only five hundred dollars.”

“That’s a lot to go missing Edward.”

“I know that,” the older man snipped agitated. “And that’s why I took residence in this old shack you guys used to hang out in, after selling the mansion. I’ve searched every inch of this place and I found nothing.”

That would explain why the place was in such disrepair.

“Maybe the money is still at the bank. Just misplaced.”

“I thought of that too. I went to the bank. There isn’t a box in my name, Frank’s name or my wife’s name. There isn’t even a box in even your name. I checked even Mark’s name.” His frustration was very evident as he ran two hands through his matted gray oily head that could use a desperate washing.

Colin couldn’t think of why Frank would say something to Colin about anything when it wouldn’t matter to Colin at the time.

‘We gonna change things, Collie,’ Frank said that day, cackling as they tapped the bumper of the car in front of them. “Did the bank say they ever saw Frank in there?” he asked.

“With no more contacts at the bank, I couldn’t get that information without a warrant. I go get a warrant and I just know them niggars will get to the bank and confiscate anything there with my family’s name on it.”

“If I think of something, I’ll let you know,” he promised and left, but that promise was flimsy. He knew he didn’t want to speak to Edward Murphy anymore.‘What are you going to do now?’ he asked himself.

A little bit of sin won't hurt Chapter 19.1 (c) Sylvia Hubbard. All Rights Reserved.