Page 51 of Nash Falls
Judith and Maggie were out, so it was only Nash and his visitor in the house. Nash led Shock to the lower level and poured them out beers from a tap set up at the bar.
They sat on the covered rear patio with views of the lovely and sculpted grounds that seemed to shimmer in the diminishing light—more illusion than reality, or so it suddenly seemed to Nash.
Shock took a sip of his beer and eyed the backyard vistas. “Nice setup. Real nice.”
“But I’m sure you hate thissetupwith every fiber of your being, correct?” said Nash.
Shock cocked his head at him. “Why would I? Man works hard, earns money, you can do what you damn well want with it, is my opinion.”
“It wasn’t my father’s perspective.”
“Maybe, maybe not.”
“He left you money.”
“I know he did. Mort Dickey told me. I had the same in my will, if I’d gone first. Kinda wished I had. Strange as shit without Ty ’round.”
“Nice to see he kicked the Army’s ass on the Agent Orange.”
“Yep. I got diddly-squat. Not sure they hold a Black man in thesame esteem as they do that ‘other’ race. Back then and today, too.” Then he surprised Nash by belly-laughing.
“You find racial injustice funny?” Nash asked.
Shock slapped his log of a thigh and said, “Racial injustice? Now I findthatfunny comin’ from you.”
“I don’t support any sort of discrimination.”
“Oh, yeah? How many Black folks you got at your business?”
“We have people of color at my firm.”
“How many? I mean in the top jobs? Not the secretaries and mail room dudes.”
“Well, not enough, certainly.”
“Uh-huh. I wonder why that is. Got any suggestions? Come on, help a bro’ out.”
“Okay, I guess I stand corrected.”
“Yeah, that makes it all better. You stand corrected. Let’s go on the TV news and tell everybody it’s all over now, go ’bout your business. Racism is no more. Walter Nash stands fucken corrected.” Shock seemed to be enjoying this and grinned wickedly.
Nash, remembering what his father had told him, said, “You were in college and married. How come you didn’t fight the draft? You could have gotten a deferment or gone into the National Guard. That’s what a lot of guys did.”
“You mean a lot ofwhiteguys. And Ididfight it. But they were so horny for fresh Black meat that they pulled up an old police arrest I had when I was sixteen and threw it in my face. They said if I didn’t go to Nam, I was goin’ to prison. So’s I went to war.”
“I’m sorry that happened to you.”
“Your daddy had joined up right outta high school, while I went on to Gramblin’ State. We played high school ball together. I was pretty much the entire left side of both the O and D lines. Your daddy was our smashmouth quarterback who could fling it sixty yards on a rope, and then run over you if nobody was open for the ball. He also played linebacker and would put your teeth right in your balls when he hit you.”
And joy, joy, I chose tennis, thought Nash. “So you hooked back up in Nam?”
“Got off the chopper and there he was. Couldn’t believe that shit, man. But later I found out that he had pulled some strings and got me assigned to his platoon. Guess he wanted to make sure I didn’t die the first week in the jungle.” Shock took a swallow of beer. “He got three Purples and pretty much every other medal twice over.”
“You got your share, too, including two Purples, a Bronze, and Silver Stars.”
“Your daddy tell you that? ’Cause I don’t talk ’bout that shit. Never have.”
“He was proud of you.”
