“ Got your schedule?”, Jonah asked.

Simone nodded. “ Yes. I’ll be taking four classes. Working with Mr. J is going to count as one – an independent study. Can you believe it?”

” Sounds good. What else?”

“ A math. An english. And history. All part of the required core. The independent study is an elective. Dean Marlowe was pretty helpful.”

” I would imagine she would be. Most people who work with Mr. J are on the ball.”

Simone laughed. “ I see your point.”

“ Why don’t we take a tour around the campus.”

“ It’s so beautiful. I’d love it.”

They enjoyed one another’s company.

“ It was interesting to see Thomas Jefferson’s grave. You know those folks should just stop fighting and let Sally Hemings join him.”, Simone said.

Jonah laughed. “ They DO need to stop the pretenses. We know those folks should be welcomed as members of the family.”

“ That kills me. It really does. They know how African’s look. And, I’m not talking about the Arabs of North Africa. They know that the Western Africans taken from there and brought over here. They know how they look. Now, look at the diversity of shading in the Black community. We can be everything from light-bright-damn-near-White to Black-as-the-Ace-of-Spades. How do they think we became a rainbow of colors without THEIR help?”

“ Denial, Simone. A combination of ignorance, denial, and an unwillingness to admit that while there were laws on the books against miscegenation, it was widespread and rampant.”

They walked around until they came up to this tent.

“ What’s this?”, Simone asked.

” Go inside.” Simone did, and inside was a wonderful lunch setup.

” Jonah, you did this for me?”

” Guilty as charged.” He pulled out the seat and Simone sat down.

” Why?”

“ I wanted to impress the lady?”

Simone blushed as the waiter poured them some wine.

“ I wanted to welcome you to Virginia.”

” This is quite a welcome.”

” Indeed.”

Simone ate the appetizers, then looked up at Jonah. “ Tell me about yourself.”

” Well. I was born and raised in the projects of Richmond. I was nothing but a statistic. Young Black male. No father. No stability. Having to make it on my own. Joined a gang.”

” Well, obviously you’ve turned your life around. How?”

” Mr. J. Mr. J. And, a high school teacher that cared. I was a freshman. I was barely going to school. I was having too much fun hanging out in the streets. The counselor called me in. It was a group of us. A lot of my homeboys. One at a time, we go the lecture. And, then, inevitably, Mr. Pittman would get pissed, and really come down on us. In the middle of my lecture, there was a knock on the door, and it was Mr. J. Mr. Pittman introduced me to him, and said that the scores said that I could handle school, but my grades said I was a dropout waiting to happen. Mr. J looked at me, pulled out a business card. Asked me how much I was making hustling for the gang. Told him five hundred a day. He pulled out a wad of cash. Saw that it was all hundreds. Told me that he’d give me double that if I showed up at his office at 8 a.m. Asked me if I wanted to become a real man, or was I going to pretend with these ‘pretend gangsters’ I was hanging around with. I told him I’d be there.”

” And, you went?”

” Yes. I was such a little punk. Thought I’d be doing work. When I got there, he sat me at a desk, in the corner of his office. On it, were all my schoolbooks. I was like, what the golly is this? First thing he told me. A real man doesn’t have to use profanity to get his point across. A real man learns to use the King’s English to manipulate the situation to his advantage. I stared at him. On top of the pile were three vocabulary books. He told me that I was going to get through 3 vocabulary lessons a day. I was going to learn the words, put them into sentences and write him an essay a day using those words. I was like, golly this golly , I’m outta here. Next thing I knew, I heard that ‘click’. “

” Click?”

” The click you hear when someone has a gun in his hand, and is ready to shoot you. I turn around, and there’s Mr. J – 357 in his hand, pointed at me. I ask him what he’s doing, and he switches around the gun, so that it’s not pointed at me, but it’s pointed at him. He tells me to take the gun and put it at my head. I’m like, WHAT, and he said to me that I should just put the gun to my head and kill myself now. It would be more efficient than to watch me waste my life, and wind up in a prison cell somewhere. He’d even pay for the funeral now, and who knows who would pay for it later.”

“ Man.”

” Yeah, I know. Told him I had no intention of dying, and he said, aren’t you? You’re hanging around with people that will either get you in jail or in the cemetery. He told me to name someone in the gang, over the age of 21, who doesn’t have a prison record. I couldn’t. I gave him a song and dance, and told him I had better things to do. He put the gun down and told me that there are pivotal moments in a person’s life. They take one path and it gets them one place, but the other is a whole different story. I was at a pivotal moment, and I had a week to decide. I was like, ‘ whatever’, and left. Hung out with my boys. We were supposed to do this simple drop, Dre and I. Dre had been my boy since we were young. Got sent to some of the same foster homes. It was supposed to be a simple drop. But, there was nothing simple about it. It was an ambush, and I watched Dre die right in front of me. I was at Mr. J’s office before sunrise the next morning.”

Simone was silent. “ You had a rough time of things.”

“ Yeah. Well, Mr. J took me in. I stayed in the guesthouse furthest away from the main house, with a couple of other guys from the streets. I spent the summer studying and working the farm. You see those gardens at the house?”

” They’re beautiful.”

” I know every square inch. You know, you wouldn’t think that gardening could take so much out of you, but….between studying and working there, none of us had anytime to get back into trouble. Mr. J became my guardian, but I always had to work. Or find activities at school that he thought were worthwhile, and that did NOT include sports. If you want to hear him go on and on, get him talking about his opinions of sports in the Black community. Whew.”

Simone laughed. “ I’ll keep that in mind.”

” I made it through high school – honors society, and off I went to college. Mr. J believes in HBCU’s. He believes in their promise, and how they allow young Black students to hone their skills and prepare them for a greater world.”

” Where did you go?”

” Morehouse.”

” No kidding! My Dad went there.”

“ So did Mr. J. He can’t extol enough the virtues of being a Morehouse man. “

“ Did you like it.”

” LOVED it! Rabid alumnus here. And, from Morehouse, it was off to UVA’s law school.”

“ Ah, that’s how you know the school.”

“ Yep. And, when I got here, I decided to get a joint MBA degree.”

“ Why not?”, Simone teased.

“ Bottom line, Simone? Mr. J doesn’t take chances on people he thinks are losers. He’s helped so many people. Funded so many programs to help people who just need someone to care for them. He’s done it for thousands personally, and by using his money, tens of thousands over the years.”

” Why? I mean, rich people give money all the time. Why does he do this?”

” He never talks about it, but I have to think it’s got something to do with his daughter.”

” Daughter? I didn’t know he had one.”

” He does. But, he never speaks about her. Something happened to her.”

” She’s dead?”

” I don’t think he knows if she’s dead or alive.”

” That’s so sad. He has no clue where she is?”

” Nope.”

” All his money, and he’s clueless.”

” That, is what they call irony.”
 
 

Eve was sitting in her office when she heard a knock on the door.

” Come in.”

“ Hi, Dr. Russell.”

” Kay! How are you? The baby?”

” I’m taking care of both of us. Thanks.”

“ You here for a checkup?”

” No. I came to give you this.”

Kay gave Eve a big duffle bag.

Eve looked at it. “ It’s nice, but..”

” It’s from Simone.”

Tears came to Eve’s eyes almost instantly. “ From Simone?”, she asked in a small voice.

Kay nodded. “ Yep.”

Eve looked inside the bag and pulled out the contents. There were three sweaters, and a beautiful hand-carved/painted jewelry box. Eve read the letter in the jewelry box.
 
 

Mom,
I’m fine. Everything is better these days. I hope you like all of the gifts. They’re all hand-made. I can’t come home right now. I can’t talk to you now, but I don’t want you to be worried. Tell Daddy I said hi.

Love,
Simone

Eve held the note close to her heart. “ You think she’s ok, Kay?”

” I do, Dr. Russell. She just needs time away. She has to grow up. Deal with life.”

Eve looked at Kay. “ Wow. When did you and Simone grow up? Just yesterday, you were in the playpen in the living room.”

Kay laughed. “ I guess it happens.”

“ Kay, thank you so much for this. “

” No problem, Dr. Russell.” Kay got up and left the room. Eve looked at a picture of Simone on her desk and stroked it. “ My baby.”