Theo And Reed's Family Secrets

Chapter One

                      Washington DC
                       April 2029

The old Black man rubbed at his chest while squinting through his huge bifocals at the Washington Post article about local internet celebrity Dancing Theo aka Theodore Walton Fisher. Apparently he was being recognized by a local LGBTQA organization as one of the ten most positive gay influences in the city. The first of course was the mayor with the funny name.

He looked so much like the other one it was funny almost. Not identical but you could tell they were related. The other one was taller and wore no glasses except those sunglasses he loved so much. And he was more confident than this one here.

But the soft brown curls. The gentle brown eyes.

He laughed harshly. Why was he so surprised about a resemblance? They were related after all. Brothers. Blood. He should know.

The old man groaned as he stood up. He was tired again. He was always tired. It wouldn't be long. Not long at all. All the pills and all the treatment and all the doctors wouldn't keep him going for much longer.

He should know. He stared at Theodore's smiling face in the newspaper. After all he had been the one to take him.

All those years ago.

Micah Michael Walton.

For some reason he had never been able to get that baby out of his head. That particular family. Especially the peite blonde young mother who had been so beautiful and brave in her own grief.

He thought of the simple files that rested safe and sound in his custody. Maybe she was why he kept such a close eye on young Micah. As well as the other two. The girl scared him a little. Even from a distance. They had not wanted him to but they had very little choice in it really. He knew too much and was too valuable to the business.

His phone on the end table in the living room rang. He slowly moved his aching body over to it. He felt like it was taking forever to move anymore. Dying took forever.

Finally he got there and he answered it.

It was Herself. And she was not happy. But she never had been.

" You are not telling," she snapped. " You hear me, man ? Nobody. Not a soul. You tell nobody but God. And He don't even care no more. "

He laughed at her. " YOU DON'T SCARE ME. Not anymore. I already got a date with death coming up. Time to clean my own soul. That's what Pastor was talking about this past Sunday. You need to clean yours. "

" Open your mouth, fool , and you will see death sooner than you think you will. Or want to. There's more than just your dumb ass involved. Think about the family. "

His weary old pain filled eyes looked down at the newspaper he still held in his shaky liver spotted hand. He looked at the shyly smiling man.

" I am thinking about the family. "

" Keep your dumb mouth shut. Hmmm. We'll make sure your daughters are taken care of after you pass on. You know neither makes that much. Especially that older one. Besides think of her reputation if this comes out. She'll be ruined and it'll be all your fault with your misplaced guilt and your silly crush on a White woman. It's for everyone's benefit if you keep your mouth shut. You hear me? "