The Money: A Parable of Sorts (Part 4 of 8): The Exit

The Money: A Parable of Sorts (Part 4 of 8): The Exit January 13, 2018
Jordan Andrews / Unsplash
Jordan Andrews / Unsplash


“I want you to welcome your new coworker!” The grocery store was in the heart of Atlanta. For years, the food-filled aisles had been his home. When the manager introduced a black man, Zack Drillard walked out and never looked back. “I ain’t workin’ with no goddamn nigger!”


She ain’t much to look at. I’m just hungry for some pussy. We’ve been fucking for a while. She wants to say we’re dating. As long as she gives me what I want, I don’t care what she calls us. Her name is Harriet. I guess that’s not all that important.


When we found out, I was pissed. She was a few months along. I tried to convince her to get an abortion. I figured that it was better to be forgiven by the Lord than have to live the rest of my life with a mistake. When all of my convincings failed, I decided to save face. We were married a short time later. During the ceremony, I don’t even know if I smiled at all. I was miserable.


“It’s a girl!” Harriet wanted a kiss. In order to avoid it, I put the baby between us. Her name was Cindy. I loved her until the day she died.


Out in the hallway, one of the cleaning ladies rubbed Cindy’s hair and complemented me on how beautiful she was. I snapped. “Get your nigger hands off my daughter!” She ran away crying. I was delighted. “I bet she don’t pull that shit ever again.” When we left the hospital, I felt like I was going to prison. The only redeeming part was Cindy.


We fought more than we talked. Everything was about the money. She was always trying to trying to give money to various charities. I was pissed. I earned every cent that I had and I was going to keep every cent that I have. I sure as hell wasn’t going to give to no charities that would probably give all of my money to the niggers.


Late one night, I packed Cindy up and made a run for it. I would school her in the old ways of whiteness. The last thing I screamed out the door at Harriet was, “Now you can go fuck all the niggers you want!”


We didn’t see her again for five years.


The money was all we really needed.

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