“Wil,” my uncle said, scooting over in the backseat. “Get inside.”
That was just like him. There was no asking, just giving orders. He was a very powerful man used to being obeyed. Well, I wasn’t one of his family flunkies, nor would I ever be—unlike my father, who had never been able to say no.
“Sorry, Uncle LC,” I said as I walked down the steps, “but I was just about to—”
“Get in the car.”
“Actually, I—”
“Get in the car, nephew,” he said with impatient authority. He patted the seat next to him, then faced front, his way of letting me know that this was not a request. I put my hands on my waist and looked up to the sky in exasperation before I completed the walk to the car and slid in. Son of a bitch, I thought, looking over at him just as the driver closed the door behind me.
LC Duncan was my father’s brother and probably the most successful African American car dealer in the country, among other things. He and my old man were tight. Maybe if my pops hadn’t been glued to his brother at the hip, he would have been around his family more. Seemed like whenever Uncle LC scouted family members to be a part of his business matters, everything else in their lives took a backseat. And now, on what had possibly been my worst day on the job, here came Uncle LC to ruin my mood even more.
Uncle LC looked at the driver and gave him a slight head nod. The driver took off up the block.
I said nothing. He was the one who wanted me to come along for the ride, so clearly he had something he wanted to say. I figured I’d let him do all the talking. We rode for a good half mile before he finally spoke up.
“I know you don’t really care for me, nephew. I can’t honestly say I know why, but I’ve guessed over the years that it has something to do with your father, or maybe even perhaps something your mother has said.”
“My mother has nothing to do with this,” I was quick to say. My mother was a woman with class and grace.
“Nonetheless, I’m your uncle,” he continued. “No matter what you think of me, Wil, you are my family. I love you, and I’ll always be here for you. There is nothing you can’t come to me for and get.”
He sounded sincere enough. Besides, if I knew one thing about Uncle LC, it was that he didn’t bullshit. If he didn’t mean it, he didn’t say it. “I appreciate that,” I said to him, keeping my tone neutral, “but what is it you really want?” He also didn’t like to waste his time, so I figured I might as well help him get to his point quickly.
“I have something very important to tell you, Wil,” he said. “Something sad. I needed to tell you face-to-face.” He looked out of the dark-tinted window, as if whatever he wanted to say made it hard for him to look me in the face.
“What is it?” I asked, feeling a growing sense of dread.
He turned to look at me but could only maintain eye contact for a split second when he told me, “Trent is dead.” He turned his attention back out of the window.
It took a moment for his words to register. “Wha… what do you mean?”
LC faced me again. “He ran into a little trouble out in Los Angeles.”
“Los Angeles? I guess that con-man shit finally caught up with him.” My brother and I didn’t get along too much, but that was because I wanted him to do better, to be better. I wanted him to get an honest job and stop conning women out of their life savings. It was something he’d been doing for the past twenty years—very successfully, I might add.
“Something like that,” he said solemnly.
“He was working for you, wasn’t he?”
He broke eye contact again, and it was obvious he’d had something to do with my brother being in Los Angeles. As a child, I had heard my mother whispering to her girlfriends a few times that Uncle LC’s business was about more than just selling cars. Because of that, I grew up suspicious of him, believing that there was some type of criminal enterprise beneath all his wealth and success. Now I understood that it was highly likely Trent was doing something illegal for my uncle when he died.
I can’t describe the depth of the disdain I felt for my uncle all of a sudden. Before, it was a simple case of dislike, but now, with my brother’s blood on his hands, it was pure hatred.
“Yes, he was working for me,” LC confirmed. “It’s what your father wanted. Unlike you, he always saw the wild child in your brother. Your mother saw it too.”
“You know nothing about my mother,” I spat. He was starting to walk on sacred soil. “My mother was a good woman. She rarely said a bad word against my father or any of his family members,” I said, “but a drunken tongue doesn’t lie. I thought it was the wine talking when she said you and my father were bad men, but now I think she was being too kind. You’re not just bad; you’re lowlife scum.”
LC caught me off guard when he grabbed my arm. “Speak of me how you wish,” he said, glaring into my eyes, “but my brother, your father, was a good man. He would have done anything for you all.”
“Yeah,” I said, jerking my arm from his grasp. “Anything but be there for us.”
My uncle knew he had no comeback to the truth. Nothing justified a man not being there for his family. He of all people knew that.
I looked at my watch. “My lunch is almost over. Your driver can drop me off at this deli on the corner right there. I’ll walk back to work.”
Uncle LC and the driver made eye contact. LC nodded for the driver to do what I’d asked, and the driver pulled over. I went to open the door once the car stopped.
“What about my brother? Where is he? I’ve got to start making arrangements.” The fact that he was dead had finally hit me. I could feel tears welling up.
“J. Foster Phillips Funeral Home on Linden Boulevard. But you don’t have to worry. I’ve taken care of everything.”
“I’m sure you have. That’s probably why he’s dead.”
With that information, I got out and closed the door, holding in my tears for my brother until my uncle’s car was out of sight. I didn’t know who was worse, Uncle LC or the grim reaper. I was starting to believe they were one and the same.