Pool_1

"Actually, Ajax, I can't talk about it," he whispered, went tone quiet about a minute, but then heaved a big sighing expiration and yielded this, "We have no law here. If a black woman gets robbed, no police come. You know? You can grow old waiting. You can go to headquarters and get blamed for the very crime you report. No scales here," holding his hands like scales in balance, a gesture that was absorbed by this listener. "No validity." He went on after another brief silence, "We need stability. Our future is coming. Feel it? But what is a future without stability, without ... " "Law!" Mac offered triumphantly, catching on, and nodding as if his answer was a sure bet. "Law? L a w? Hell, no! We have law shoved up our asses and down our throats. We choke on law. What is our future without JUSTICE! How can you be so smart and be so, so uggh? Law without justice is OPPRESSION. Shit, man, law is the word dumb asses use who can't spell the harder ones - oppression, tyranny, domination, coercion, persecution, unwarrantable, inexcusable, unjustifiable, and iniquitous subjugation. Frank is our law because Frank is our justice. Justice, for us, is the Omega. The Omega is our court, our tribunal, our stability, our justice." A frigid chill came over Marcus as a mental image of a blood spitting face battered stuttering vision briefly stormed forward. Washington continued, "But don't ask about the Omega. It is dangerous. If you weren't Jazz Man's kid, I wouldn't have told you squat. Dig?" "Dig." But how did he know that? What was the deal here? Everybody had this thing about him in relation to his father. Did Frank tell him? Was Jazz Man's name that well known? Couldn't be, nobody used his actual name. Well, maybe they did. It wasn't a secret. But why would anybody remember? Or relate to it? Would anybody remember if Marcus claimed Leonardo Da Vinci as his step brother? Anybody? Maybe.