Free Queen by Alex Haley Page A

that," James Jackson said, "you may not expect another penny from
        me, during my life, or in my will."
        Jamie's cheeks flushed with angry shock. He had not expected much from
        his father, some few words of comfort, perhaps a little well-intentioned
        advice, or even a scolding. But he had not expected this. Banished and
        disinherited. It was a cruet world. He was being treated as an errant,
        headstrong boy. But he was not a boy anymore, he was a man, and he would
        show his father how much of a man he had become.
        "I will make my own way in this new world," he murmured, and could not
        stop his voice from rising. "I will be richer than you ever imagined, and
        more powerful than you have ever been. And I will use my money wisely,
        like Lord Fitzgerald and Oliver Bond, in the people's interest-"
        "The people," his father sneered. "The common rabble, you mean."
        Jamie was close to losing his temper and struggled to control himself.
        "I take this because I must," he said, holding up the envelope. "But I
        do not want one penny more of your money,
    46 ALEX HALEY'S QUEEN
     
    or your damned letters of credit, in your life or when you are dead. "
    But he could not make his father believe him.
        '-You will never amount to anything," James Jackson said to his son.
        Jamie wanted to cry out or to hit him, but he did neither. All the hope
        of all the love he had ever wanted from his father came to nothing, and
        he believed that his father had never cared one whit for him, for if he
        cared, how could he disparage him so?
        "I will make a liar of you yet!" he shouted. Fists clenched in rage and
        bitter disappointment, he walked out of the room.
        Jugs was waiting for him in the hall. She had heard the shouting through
        the door, and tried to make amends.
        "He didn't mean it," she said. "He's been worried about ye.
        "He never cared about me for one day in his life," Jamie replied. "But
        I will show him-you wait and see. I'll prove him wrong."
     
    James Jackson sat at his desk, his face livid with rage, his hands
    trembling with anger. He had done his best by the boy, had offered him his
    portion, and it had been thrown back in his face. He had tried to do his
    best by all his children, and all were ungrateful, and had turned on him.
    All had been given every possible benefit when young, but their wretched
    flirtations with the nationalist movement had almost destroyed his life,
    his business, and their inheritance. He could not understand their
    stupidity and ingratitude.
    He poured himself a brandy, and tried to calm down.
        He had not wanted children, except a son, to inherit what he had created.
        Sadly, children went hand in glove with what he did want, for he loved
        women, and needed their physical company. Since in order to have that
        physical companionship he must have children, and since because of his
        standing in the community he should have children, and because without
        an heir everything he worked for would die with him, he had raised a
        family. He was quite fond of each of them when they were little, but
        intolerant of their demands on his time. The difficulty of running and
        expanding a business such as his in
        BLOODLINES 47
     
    these troubled times had taken all his energy. He had provided his family
    with everything they needed, had employed nannies and teachers for them,
    and had asked, in return, simply that they behave themselves and not
    trouble him. Surely that was not selfish? But they had troubled him, to
    distraction, and when he could not accommodate the demands they made on
    him, they had turned against him. He did not mind the behavior of the
    girls so much, for they, at least, were pretty and womanly, and he
    actually admired and