And -- despite the increasingly numerous and dissatisfied bunch of dedicated, experienced gamblers behind Erik -- he had taken the slips, through the narrow gap beneath the safety glass, and led the wet-behind-the-ears novitiate through the process of putting a few bob on the gee-gees.
Erik had had final year tutorials on advanced robotics, that had caused him less intellectual sweat.
But master the basics he did, with the calm, methodical, persistent tuition of Solomon -- his wisdom, indeed. And more than five, less than ten minutes later -- having bawled out to the backroom for 'Linda, my love' to 'come out here and bleeding serve paying customers, treacle!'' -- Solomon had pushed his visor further back on his head, and gazed at Erik with bloodshot brown eyes, from the broad brown face that Erik guessed, combined with his accent, to be of West Indian origin. "I was sorry to hear about your father, there, boy. Jakob was a good man, a right good man. As well as a steady source of income, around these parts."
Erik was stalled, silenced. It had taken him a moment to ask, "You knew him?" (Oh, of course.) And then, "How did you know I was his son?"
*One mutant knows another. All brothers under the skin.
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the Jew gets blackballed from the country club
FanficErik has a life beyond and outside his connection with Charles - with Edie, with Raven, even with Az. With the (closeted) 1960s gay community, with his Jewish faith and community, with the wider world beyond that. This story is complementary to 'Jus...
