The Darkest Child by Delores Phillips

to Junior I wished I could see his face. I thought about moving to the kitchen window, but I did not want to risk being seen.
    “I’ll start with the one injustice that has caused me the most sorrow,” Junior continued. “I think you all remember my uncle, Nathan Fess, my daddy’s only brother.You all know that he was murdered. But why?” He paused, giving the others time to think about it.“He was murdered because he and my daddy decided to start a taxi service.Your mothers, neighbors, and maybe some of you, used their taxi cabs.They were pulling business away from the white taxi company, and they were warned to cease what was called illegal activity. That was four years ago, and I haven’t been able to talk about it until now. I couldn’t speak about the way they intimidated my daddy, threatened our family, and used a shotgun to demolish a car we had worked years to buy. Daddy’s decision was to give in, keep his family safe. Uncle Nathan, however, was an optimistic and determined man who felt he had just as much right as the next to earn a living. He paid for his beliefs with his life.”
    “I remember when that happened, Junior,” someone said.“They never found out who killed him, did they?”
    “They never even tried. Which brings me to another point,” Junior said bitterly.“Chad Lowe was the spokesman for the white cab company.How he got involved, I’ll never know, but he was the one who threatened my daddy.”
    “He got involved because they all stick together like that,” Sam said.“That’s what we’ve gotta start doing.”
    They were quiet for a few seconds, and I assumed they were nodding in agreement.
    “In my heart, I believe Chad Lowe murdered my uncle,” Junior finally said.“I don’t know about the rest of you, but I have a problem with that evil man riding around this town with a gun on his hip. I’ve complained about it. I knew I couldn’t go to the sheriff, but I wrote a letter to the mayor, and I went to the other policemen in that clubhouse they call a jail.They laughed at me. One of them told me that the United States Constitution gave Chad Lowe the right to bear arms.” Junior paused.“I asked him if it gave me the same right. He stopped laughing then, told me to try it and see.”
    “Man, they’d shoot you down real quick,” Greg Henry said, “and you right about that damn Chadlow. That mothafucka is in everybody’s business, but ain’t nothing we can do about that, Junior. I’m here tonight ’cause I wanna know if anybody got any ideas about some jobs.”
    “You one of the few of us got a job, Greg,” Sam said.
    “I know, Sam. I know,” Greg responded. “I know y’all probably think I’m lucky ’cause I get to clean slop out them toilets at the bus depot. But it’s a thousand times a day I wanna walk off that job. I would, too, if I didn’t have Darlene and our baby to think about. You say they laughed at you when you went to the police, Junior? You ain’t heard no laughing. Them fools that run the bus depot, they some laughing hyenas, man. Ain’t but two of ’em, and they gotta be the worst two clowns ever wore britches. One day they took the lock off the colored toilet and jammed the door just for fun.The one, Mr. Lester, say he heard niggers shit like monkeys.The other one, Mr. Samuels, say he had to see that for himself.Then Mr. Lester say, ‘Be careful! Monkeys throw their shit, you know.’Boy, did they laugh about that. It took a whole week before they let me fix that door. But they still do all kinds of lowdown dirty stuff.”
    “Well,” Sam said, “seems like I can’t even get a everyday job like a man s’pose to have. People think I don’t wanna work, but that ain’t it.”
    “Nah, what it is, Sam, you be asking them white folks too many questions,” Harvey said. “They ain’t gon’ have no colored man questioning them.”
    “See, Harvey, you just climb on them trucks and go wherever they take you. I can’t do that no