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 likes—black people and white—and 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 Philly—changing up the music—all 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

 

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