Black Buck(105)

Something told me to just get out with it then and there, but I didn’t know what the consequences would be. And there was still a part of me, despite everything, that didn’t want to disappoint him. In many ways, he had given me a brand-new life.

“I already told you, Rhett. I am not a part of the Happy Campers and have no affiliation with them. The last thing I’d want to do is get Sumwun caught up in this race mess.”

He sighed with relief and sat down, signaling for me to do the same. “Good. I know you’re too smart for that, but I had to be sure. What I think would be best is for you to denounce the Happy Campers in front of the entire sales team, so everyone knows whose side you’re on.”

My mouth went dry. “What do you mean ‘side,’ Rhett? If I denounce the Happy Campers, won’t that make it seem like we’re supporting Clyde?”

He scratched his forehead. “Maybe so, but you have fifty people right there on that list who are ready to quit if you don’t win them back. And we can’t have that type of media scrutiny, not again. It’s a matter of survival, Buck.”

“Whose survival, Rhett? A lot of the Sumwunners of color look up to me, and to denounce the Happy Campers would make me look like an Uncle Tom. I can’t do that.”

He snatched the petition from my hands and stood up. “It’s not about race, Buck! Stop being so simple. It’s all about the company. No one cares about the color of your skin. Frankly, you’re being narcissistic.”

I thought back to my first day at Sumwun and saw myself covered in white paint, the bucket hanging above me as everyone laughed and laughed and laughed. I’d come a long way since then, had gained the world, lost it, and was setting it right again—for Ma, myself, and the future generation—so there was no turning back.

“Whatever, man,” I said, heading for the door. “I’m not going to do what you asked, but I will figure out a way to fix this.”

“You better.”



* * *





“What was that all about?” Eddie asked as I approached their table at the Shake Shack in Madison Square Park.

“That petition,” I said, taking a seat. “You guys know about it?”

Eddie looked at Marissa, who looked at Frodo, who turned to me, fear on his face. “Uh, yeah, I did, Buck, but I didn’t think it was anything important, so I didn’t bring it up.” He nervously inserted half of a ShackBurger into his mouth.

“So much for being my belt.”

Marissa reached across the table and placed a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t worry about any of this, Buck. Half of those people are mad about deals or something else that has nothing to do with you.”

“It has everything to do with me. They want me out.”

Eddie laughed, tossing a fry at me. “That’ll never happen, so stop sulking. But, hey, what about Clyde, huh? He’s going off the rails.”

“Yeah,” Frodo whispered. “He’s like, um, taking this all to another level. Who knows what he’ll do next.”

“But those Happy Campers sort of came out of nowhere too, right?” Eddie said.

“Yeah,” Marissa agreed. “It’s like some top-secret organization. I wonder if they do human sacrifices.”

Eddie placed a single fry into his mouth. “It’s the Illuminati. I just know it.”

I laughed, trying to lighten up. “You ever hear that Kendrick line about Black men and the Illuminati?”

Crickets and stares.

“Never mind.” I shook my head. “But seriously, guys? You think there’s some conspiracy going on? It’s just a bunch of Black salespeople who started some club to feel special.”

Eddie narrowed his eyes across the table, beheading a fry. “Hmm, sounds like you’re on the inside. Got something to tell us, Buck?”

I forced myself to breathe, then laugh. “Me? They must think I’m part of the system, because I never got an invitation.”

“Just like my letter from Hogwarts,” Frodo muttered.

“Well I actually know a Happy Camper,” Eddie announced.

“Stop lying,” Frodo said. “How would you know a Happy Camper?”

“I won’t say where we met, but we recently started dating,” he said, leaning in now, whispering. “After I open him up with a few drinks, he becomes really talkative. He swears he’ll tell me who’s behind it all if I let him hit it.”

Frodo looked around. “Hit what, Eddie? If anyone hits you, I’ll strangle them.”

“Thanks,” Eddie said, rubbing Frodo’s hand. “But, yeah, this guy says things are tense over there, real tense. Like there’s a civil war going on in response to Clyde and his cronies. It’s all v juicy.”

Motherfucker! I twisted my hands beneath the table. Whoever’s talking to Eddie must also be the one who tipped Clyde off about our plans to hack him. I ran through all of the gay, bi, or possibly questioning guys in the group. There were more than a few.

“Who’s the lucky guy?” I asked, taking a sip of my shake, trying to be casual.

Eddie pinched my cheek, smirking. “You know I don’t kiss and tell, Buck. But I will say he’s incredibly intelligent, good with computers, and”—he opened both hands like a magician—“he’s African.”