The Brotherhood of Man

I have found that you never truly know someone until you have lived with him/her and endured a few disagreements. It is then, all their hidden resentments and hateful feelings towards you come out in all its fine glory.

The great sages of our times have often declared that we only get to know the character of a person on two occasions, when we marry and when we die.

You see, some people may go through life as local yokels and we may even assume they are not noteworthy. But, when he/she marries it is when we see where he/she is coming from and the connections he/she harnessed their whole lives.

So it is when we die also. Sages have said, “If a woman wants to find out if her husband was faithful to her in life, make sure she gets a front-row seat at his funeral. It is then all the mistresses will be wailing like alley cats. If they are a no-show then she can rest easy he probably was a good one.”

Women do not usually have these issues because they get wracked with guilt and confess at the first query of suspicion, or while on their death bed if they are able.

My point is we may live with someone for a thousand years and never truly know him or her. So it was for me when dating my beau. I did not realize that I could never get to know him because he belonged to the brotherhood of financiers and whatever they said was the ultimate decision about everything.

Aside from that, I also found out that he was the Big Kahuna of a very prominent gang. At first, it made me laugh because it felt like an episode of “Pee Wee’s Big Adventure”. I felt boys left gangs in their teens. Who knew big middle-aged men were leaders of gangs.

You think I would have gotten a clue when he shunned certain colors and had an affinity for plaid. The reason I am getting into such intricate details is the fact that even when you meet someone in the nicest of places and surroundings it does not necessarily mean he/she is a good person.

As a matter of fact, in those days on Wall Street Managers were known for hiring less than stellar individuals. As long as they brought in the money and the highest commissions to the brokerage houses they did not care if they hired Attila The Hun. Who knew that it would later be revealed that I was rolling with one of the most notorious members of “The Bloods”.

Broker/Trader by day and vatos locos affiliate by night. The thing with getting mixed up with gangs and living a double life is the fact that they have to know everything about you and the people you consort with.

The gang code also dictates that they share everything including their women. I became the wild card and person of interest because I was groomed to be virtuous and did not believe in alternative lifestyles no matter how much I cared for someone.

Therefore, I found myself in a sticky wicket situation fighting off harassment from gang members in disguise as well as his associates from the group he belonged to.

Each wanted a piece of the “proverbial pie”. The talk that my cousins’ stealth operations uncovered was the fact that they had given my beau a stern talking to and pretty much informed him what was going to happen whether or not he wanted it to happen.

They were going to break into his high-security home and take me under siege. I was upsetting “the groups” with my pristine nature and they were no longer standing for my Pollyanna attitude.

Therefore, I had to hightail it out of Florida on a stealth mission because even though my beau had tried to contain the matter by changing up our movements they were coming for me.

I later found out they were serious as they had broken into the apartment next door to me as a warning they were near. If it had not been for my godfather the Don and his connections on Mulberry Street I would have been a goner.

I also had made some connections of my own as a young girl. It is funny how sometimes we are kind to strangers and we never know the power of our thoughtfulness.

When I was a teenager, a boy on the beach had befriended me and my bestie. I took him and his friend home to meet my family and they were invited to stay for dinner. My dad later allowed them to go on tours with us.

It turned out that one of the boys was a genius who had gotten a scholarship to a prestigious school in the Midwest but he was also a member of a gang called, “The Crips”. That insignificant connection when I was young also played a part in me being able to abscond from the horrific fate that awaited me.

My granny often emphasized being cordial to people because you never know how an insignificant meeting can alter the path of one’s life. Normally I would go to the beach with friends zone out, read a book, and mind my business.

For some reason, this person and his friend struck up a conversation with my friend and me. They spoke intelligently and appeared mild-mannered. I should have been freaked out by the revelation of their gang affiliations but I was not.

From childhood, I was always the person who befriended the werewolves knowing their infamous legacy. This time around, it proved a blessing to have friends in nefarious places.

Therefore as I mature and consort with all types I shy away from persons who are affiliated with any type of group. I am one who does not roll in cliques nor conform to “Stepford Thinking” so I always end up conjuring wrath.

It is my belief if someone is in a group or consortium they have to think like them and act like them. You are never just dating one person, you are dating the whole group because after all, they determine the trajectory of your success and life path. My rebel nature would never permit me to fit in.