"I can't believe it." I said looking wildly around the yard. "Well you kind of had to expect it." I shook an American Spirit Red free from its resting place and slowly took a drag. The drag was as deep as the secret he had just shared with me.
"You know I have to write about this, right?"
"Fuck that! No way! I am going to keep this under wraps as long as I can!" He shook his head forcefully from side to side. "This does not go on that short story/blog or whatever-the-fuck you call it."
"Are you kidding me?!? This is great shit! It'll be like watching someone rebuild from the ashes. Do you know how many people are in the exact same boat you're in? Worst case scenario we catch a little flak. Best case we help someone out who is in the same boat."
"No." he said. His statement was simple and direct. "This is something I have to handle. Putting it out there will just make it worse."
"How?!? I'll change your name! Switch cities, make you older or younger ... this could work!" I felt like a scum bag trying to get his girlfriend to take her clothes off for his buddies but at the same time I knew this would make a good story.
"It's not like you killed somebody, this is just everyday stuff. You fucked up. We all do."
I wondered how Stotler would handle this. I'm not really good at being the moral barometer. As long as it feels good, no one gets hurt, and it's not too illegal, I'm all for it.
I took another deep drag and watched the smoke dance in the wind as I exhaled. He just stood there with his head hung low and his hands on his hips. He was defeated and there was nothing he could do about it. As the smoke disappeared I thought I saw the fire in his eyes dim. I just couldn't believe it.
That Beautiful Black Man
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