Violet of a Deeper Blue: A Novel
(Click to buy this book on-line now)
Read about the author Rick Malone
Format: Paperback, 1st ed., 314pp.
ISBN: 0966392604
Publisher: Azure Publishing
Pub. Date: January 1999
Book Excerpt
"And this is Robin," Candace said, introducing the other woman. A near
Whitney Houston double, she looked like she had stepped directly from a
Paris runway. Everything about her was perfect, from her figure, to her
nails, to her makeup, to her hair.
"What's up?" Robin said, in a cool, sexy voice, looking out from behind
her Ralph Lauren shades.
"Hi," Brandon said.
"And please don't tell her how much she looks like Whitney Houston,"
Candace rushed to put in, "because she hears that all the time. Right,
Robin?"
"Thank you, girlfriend," Robin said. "I don't think a day goes by that
somebody isn't telling me I look like Whitney. But, hey, I'm cool with it.
She's a good-looking girl."
"But not as good-looking as you, Robin," Morris said.
"This is true," Robin said, playfully. They laughed.
"And next to Robin is Todd," Candace said, indicating the white guy.
"What's happening?" Todd said, extending his hand.
"You got it," Brandon said, shaking hands with the man, who looked to be
about his age.
"Did y'all see that?" Morris said, still focusing on the dancers. "Al
Schmidt and this other uncoordinated guy just collided with each other. Why
is it that the most non-dancing white people, no matter where you go,
hafta' always run out on the dance floor, when they know they can't dance a
tap, and ruin it for everybody else? I mean, I'll be trying to dance and
I'll look over at some white guy that's dancing all off the beat and it'll
throw me off. Why is that, Todd?"
"Man, I couldn't begin to tell you," Todd said. "But you looking at one
white guy that just might run you off the floor."
"Say what?" Morris said.
"Uh-oh," Charrise said. "I think I hear a challenge coming on."
"You gon run me off the dance floor?" Morris said.
"You heard me," Todd said. "I've seen you in action before, Morris. You're
pretty good. But I think I'm better."
"Hold up, now," Morris said. "Todd, you might be able to dance pretty good
for a white guy, and I know you grew up around black people and all, but I
don't think you could hang with me."
"Morris, where I grew up at back in Philly, I was the man at the parties.
I mean, I was so smooth on the floor that the ladies would come ask me to
dance. And that included sisters, too."
"I've seen him work, Morris," Robin said. "Saw him down at Escape one
night. He can go."
"So, Robin, you know what I can do," Morris said. "You think Todd can run
me off the floor?"
"I don't know if he can run you off the floor, but I think he could give
you a run for the money."
"We gon hafta' get together sometime and settle this thing," Morris said.
"You can settle it tonight," Robin said. "It's ladies' night at Park
Avenue. Me, Charrise and Toi, we'll be there."
"I can't make it tonight," Morris said. "I'm busy."
"I can't either," Todd said.
"But we'll hook up sometime," Morris said.
"Is Park Avenue a black nightclub?" Brandon said.
"About one of the only half-way decent ones around," Charrisse said.
"Why is it that somebody can't open a nice, upscale nightspot where black
professionals can feel comfortable going?" Robin said. "I mean, Park Avenue
and Escape are okay, but you got to always be dealing with the riffraff
element, the brothers with no jobs and no class. If you wanna go somewhere
really nice, you have to go to a white nightclub, where they hardly want to
let you in the door to begin with a lot of times. And then, when you do get
in, if too many blacks show up, they change the music on you. They go from
playing something everybody likesblack people and whiteand can dance to
to some old hillbilly bullshit that they know black people don't like. I
wanna know what's up with that."
"They don't want y'all black folks dirtying up their nice, white club,"
Morris said. "That's what's up with that. They like black folk's music, but
they don't like being around black folk."
"They used to do that in Phillychanging up the musicall the time," Todd
said. "Anytime a new club would open and blacks started showing up in
numbers, they would switch the format. A buddy of mine who used to DJ said
that the management at the white clubs he worked would tell him straight up
that whenever the number of blacks reached a certain level, what they
called a cutoff level, to basically whiten up the music. They felt that if
too many blacks started coming, it would scare the whites away."
"Man, that's messed up," Sherman said.
"You wanna come with us to Park Avenue tonight, Brandon?" Robin said.
"It's gon be plenty single ladies there."
"Thanks, but I don't think my girlfriend would be too cool about me
going," Brandon said.
"I can understand that," Robin said. "I wouldn't want my boyfriend going
to Park Avenue on ladies' night without me, either. As a matter of fact, he
better check with me first, if he's planning on even being anywhere in the
vicinity." They laughed.
"Sounds like you keep a close rein on that man of yours, Robin," Roosevelt
said.
"You have to these days," Robin said. "These women will snatch your man
right from under your nose, if you don't."
"Honey, I know that's right," Charrise said, high-fiving Robin. "Some of
these women around here, you have to watch 'em. They'll get all chummy with
you and everything and next thing you know they'll be trying to put the
moves on your man, especially if they think he's got some money."
"Speaking of nice clubs, anybody been to The Preserve?" Brandon asked. "I
hear it's really happening there."
"Morris, didn't you tell me you went there once?" Roosevelt said.
"Yeh, I went and checked it out one time, me and Craig," Morris said.
"Seems like I remember you had a pretty memorable time that night,"
Roosevelt said, grinning.
"Yeh, it was memorable, alright," Morris said. "Let me tell y'all what
happened. After having to produce about eight forms of ID a piece, they
finally let us in. Anyway, we step up in there. The music's slammin' and
it's wall to wall women."
"White women, mainly?" Roosevelt said.
"Yeh, white women," Morris said. "It must've been ladies' night. Anyway, a
lot of the women were just standing around, waiting for somebody to ask
them to dance. You could tell they wanted to dance, by the way they were
bopping and moving to the music, you know. But most of the white guys were
just laying back, drinking beer, like they weren't even interested in the
women. Anyway, me and Craig, we ready to take to the floor with somebody's
daughter. So, we go to work. But to make a long story short, over the next
three or four songs, we asked I don't know how many women to dance. And the
answer was the same from every last one of 'em."
"You mean none of them would dance?" Brandon said.
"Nope."
"I think you and Craig were wearing the wrong skin color that night,"
Roosevelt said.
"You can say that again," Morris said. "At one point I felt like saying,
look, I ain't asking you to go out with me. All I'm asking is for a dance.
We ain't gotta get engaged."
"Weren't there any black women there you all could've danced with?"
Charrise said.
"You could count the number of sistas that were there on one hand," Morris
said. "We did step up to these two sistas. They turned us down, too, saying
they weren't really in the mood for dancing. But the next thing we know,
there're out on the dance floor with some white boys. Another sista shot me
down, too."
"So, not only would the white women not dance with you, but the black
women wouldn't either," Roosevelt said.
"Exactly," Morris said. "By this time, I'm ready to go ask for my money
back."
"So, you and Craig found out the hard way why they call it The Preserve,"
Candace said.
"You ain't lyin' 'bout that," Morris said. "Everthing in a dress that
night was preserved for white men. They might as well have hung a sign out
front saying no black men need apply."
"It's like this," Roosevelt said. "If you're black and you wanna go
somewhere at least marginally nice to party, somewhere you'll feel welcome,
you got two options: Escape and Park Avenue. That's about it."
"Nolan and I went to a really nice club up in the Baltimore Harbor a few
weeks ago," Robin said. "I forget the name of it. It was a mixed crowd and
they were throwing down some serious jams. But it was for a private party.
So, I don't know if that was the club's usual format."
"Probably not," Candace said. "They'd get too many of us up in there, if
it was."
"Changing the subject for a moment, is Nolan still gonna ask to be traded,
Robin?" Roosevelt said.
"If the Redskins don't renegotiate his contract to his satisfaction, he
said he would," Robin said. "His agent is currently trying to work
something out, from what I understand."
"Has he mentioned what teams he'd possibly like to go to if it doesn't
work out with the Skins?"
"I think he said the Dolphins, the Chiefs and one other team, maybe the
Eagles," Robin said. "Those would be his picks."
"Would you move with him, if he goes to another city?" Morris asked.
"I don't know," Robin said. "I'd have to think about it."
"Aren't you and Nolan engaged?" Candace said.
"We were, but I called it off," Robin said.
"What happened?" Candace said.
"Nothing really," Robin said. "It's just that I don't know if I'm ready
for marriage."
"How's everyone doing?" a tall, middle-aged white man said, walking up, a
plate of barbecue in hand.
"Hello, Art," Morris said. The others acknowledged the man, too. "You
know, this is really nice. We need to do this more often."
"Well, actually that's something we've been looking into," Art said. "I
think it's important that we get together from time to time, let our hair
down a little. For some reason, we don't do it as much as we used to."
"You been hitting the greens any lately, Art?" Roosevelt asked. "I read in
some magazine that you said you like to tee it up every now and then."
"Not nearly as much as I'd like to," Art said. "I'm just too busy these
days. My wife got me a new set of clubs for my birthday back in April and
I've probably used them maybe twice."
"You gotta make the time," Roosevelt said. "You know what they say about
all work and no play."
"Yes, I certainly do," Art said. "But until they find a way to add a
couple more hours to the day, I don't think I'm going to be able to do much
about it. Are you a golfer?"
"I like to get out there with the fellows every now and then," Roosevelt
said.
"I find it to be a very relaxing pastime, as I'm sure you do, too," Art
said. "Well, you folks enjoy yourselves." The man smiled and moved on to
greet another group of people.
"Wasn't that Art Hoffman?" Brandon said, when the man was out of earshot.
"Yep. Mr. Money Bags, himself," Candace said.
"I'd never seen him up close before," Brandon said. "He looks slimmer in
person than in the pictures of him I've seen."
"That's what having a lot of money will do for you," Candace said. "It'll
make you look fat and happy to the camera."
"If that's the case, I oughta look skinny as a rail in my pictures, as
poor as I am," Morris said. They laughed. "How much you think Art Hoffman's
worth, Roosevelt?"
"His base salary is reported to be right around a million a year, I
believe," Roosevelt said. "But when you get through throwing in all the
stock options and bonuses, he's probably taking home five to six times that
much, at least."
"He's supposed to be one of the highest paid CEOs in America," Candace
said.
"I heard he's got his own golf course on his estate," Todd said.
"Is his wife married?" Robin said, peering up over the top of her shades.
"Girlfriend, you oughta' quit," Charrise said, laughing with the others.
"What does a person do with that kind of money?" Sherman said. "I mean,
isn't there a limit to how much you can buy?"
"It's not about buying stuff," Roosevelt said. "It's about acquiring
wealth."
"I'd like to acquire just a li-it-tle bit of that wealth," Robin said.
The band started in on another song, one that sounded more country western
than Motown.
"I wonder if they take requests," Morris said. "'Cause if they do, I'd
like to request that they take the rest of the afternoon off."
"They started out okay," Sherman said. "But this stuff they playing now
ain't cutting it."
"Say, did you all hear about the black guy that got hassled at this
clothing store because they claimed he was trying to leave wearing a shirt
he hadn't paid for, when actually he had bought the shirt several days
earlier?" Candace said.
"No," Robin said. "What happened?"
"They say the undercover security for the store stopped him as he was
leaving and basically wrestled him to the floor, handcuffed him and held
him for the police," Candace said. "When they finally checked things out,
they found that the man had purchased the shirt just like he'd been saying
all along."
"That's a damn shame," Roosevelt said. "Did they say what color the
security personnel were?"
"They were both white," Candace said.
"And on top of that, the man is a school teacher and a deacon in his
church," Candace said.
"I couldn't see them doing that to a white person," Morris said.
"I sure hope he sues," Charrise said.
"I know I would," Robin said. "I'd slap a lawsuit on that store so fast
they wouldn't know what hit 'em. I almost did that with this jewelry store
one time."
"What happened?" Candace said.
"I was out shopping around for a bracelet," Robin said, "and this
particular store had some nice stuff showcased in their window. So, I
decided to step inside and take a look. I'd come straight from work, so I
was dressed, you know. Anyway, hardly any customers were in the store, so
it wasn't like it was real busy. But these two white women that are working
there, they're so preoccupied with their conversation with each other that
they don't notice me. So, I just take my time browsing, just checking out
the display cases. But not once did either of them ask if I needed any
help. It was like I wasn't even there. I started to just walk out. But I
really wanted to see this particular bracelet that had caught my eye. So, I
go up to them and ask if I could see it. One of them looks at me and goes,
'Do you have credit here at the store?' I said, 'I beg your pardon?' Then
she says, 'We don't do layaway here. And there are certain minimum
requirements one must meet to qualify for credit.'
"I couldn't believe it. I said to that heifer, 'Look, for your
information, I don't need credit here at this little five-and-dime to buy
whatever you got for sale here. I can pay cash or I can put it on any one
of my three gold cards.' I took one of them out and waved it in her face.
'Ah, ah, I'm sorry,' she said. 'I didn't mean to imply' I said to her,
'Yes, you did. See, the fact of the matter is that you didn't think I could
afford to shop here because I'm black. But you don't have to worry 'bout
that ever again.' I then turned and walked out of there. I was so mad."
"It's really screwed up, what black people have to go through in this
society," Todd said. "You should've got a lawyer and sued their prejudiced
asses."
"Did these two incidents happen in some little hick towns somewhere?"
Brandon said.
"Not unless you consider Rockville, Maryland a little hick town," Candace
said. "That's where the incident I mentioned happened."
"This happened in Rockville?" Brandon said, astonished.
"And this jewelry store I was talking about is right here in D.C.," Robin
said.
"Maybe it's me, but I never would have thought that this kind of backwards
stuff would be happening in D.C., the nation's capital."
"Man, where you think we are?" Morris said. "In Canada or somewhere? That
kinda stuff could happen anywhere in this country. And probably does."
"I never heard of it happening back in New Hampshire, where I'm from,"
Brandon said.
"Well, you ain't in New Hampshire no more, brother," Morris said. "You in
the real U.S. of A."
"And below the Mason Dixon line, too," Candace said.
"But it's nowhere near as bad here as in the Deep South," Todd said. "You
go right outside of Atlanta and you'd think you were back in the '50s, the
way white people's attitudes are toward blacks."
"Tell me about it," Roosevelt said. "My brother used to work in this
little town in Georgia, no more than about 30 or 40 miles outside of
Atlanta. He said the racism was so bad that the white supervisors would
crack racist jokes out in the open. And they wouldn't care if blacks heard
them or not."
"You couldn't pay me enough money to work in one of those little redneck
towns," Robin said. "But if you're gonna live in the south, Atlanta's the
place to be," Robin said. "It's happening there twenty-four seven. And the
cost of living is so affordable, compared to here."
"I can't believe the prices of homes here in the D.C. area," Brandon said.
"I don't know how single people ever afford to buy. With rent as high as it
is, how do you save enough for a down payment?"
"I know that's right," Charrise said. "I would love to buy something, but
when I get through paying my bills every month, especially my rent, I
hardly have anything left."
"Honey, I've got friends down in Atlanta who've got two- and three-bedroom
homes with swimming pools out back and big sprawling lawns that they didn't
even pay a hundred grand for. Those same homes up here would run you
two-hundred to two-hundred fifty grand, at least."
"Didn't you go to school down there?" Sherman said.
"Yep. Spelman."
"So, that's where you get those champagne tastes from," Morris said. "I
bet I know what sorority you pledged, too."
"Don't even go there, Morris," Robin said, giving Morris the evil eye. "I
don't wanna hear this stuff about this bourgeois mentality that Spelman
women are supposed to be known for."
"Robin, you got me figured wrong," Morris said, feigning innocence. "I
meant it in a good way."
"No you didn't," Robin said. "Don't even try it."
"But you did pledge, right?" Morris said.
"Yeah, I pledged."
"I knew it."
"You didn't know I pledged," Robin said, balling up a napkin and tossing
it at Morris, who ducked it. "You just wanna mess with me."
Copyright ' 1999 Azure Publishing