Free Color of Love by Sandra Kitt Page B

for the door and freedom. But he suddenly stopped and turned back to Jason.
    “Hey, man. You got a coupla dollars you can lend me?”
    Jason hesitated but finally dug into his pocket for a five dollar bill. He extended the money and Slack grabbed for it. Jason held firmly to his end. “You’ll keep the appointment this time, right?”
    Slack sneered. “For five bucks?” Jason held fast. “Yeah, right,” he said, snatching the bill and taking off.
    He just missed colliding with a man coming through the door. Joe Wagner cursed as Slack adroitly ducked under the big man’s arm, causing Joe to fumble several bags that he carried. His dark face, with its broad features, thick black mustache, and eyebrows, registered annoyance that was just as quickly gone.
    Joe was Jason’s office roomie and his sometime partner. He came into the office weighed down with a huge McDonald’s take-out bag and an armful of file folders. He carelessly pushed an already existing pile of papers to one side of his desk to make room for his lunch. He sat down heavily in a wooden desk chair set on casters. The chair groaned and squeaked. Digging into the bag for a Big Mac, Joe looked at Jason.
    “You realize you’re contributing to the delinquency of a minor.”
    Jason picked up a basketball from the floor and tossed it to Joe. “At least he didn’t steal it. I’m making real progress. It’s an investment in his future.”
    Joe easily caught the ball and quickly returned it across the room. “He ain’t got a future.”
    “You could help me on this one. Slack’s a tough case, but I’m not ready to throw in the towel, yet. Why don’t you talk to him?”
    Joe grunted, taking a mammoth bite out of his burger. “’Cause it’s too late to talk to him. I’m telling you, Jace. The kid is probably crazy. He can’t be trusted.” He took another bite of the burger and reached for the last two in the bag. He carelessly tossed one to Jason, who caught it easily. “So, how was Brooklyn?”
    Jason’s response was slow in coming, and even then his voice was uneasy. “Her name is Leah Downey.”
    “Don’t matter. She’s just conquered territory.”
    “I didn’t conquer her,” Jason defended patiently, opening the burger. “Besides, you only noticed ’cause she’s black.”
    “You mean you only noticed because she’s black.”
    Jason raised his brows. “You got something against black people?”
    Joe scowled at him.
    “Give me a break, okay?” Jason murmured. “I need this grief over a cup of coffee?”
    “You don’t know what grief is, man. First it’s coffee. Before you know it it’s something else. You comin’ over for Thanksgiving? Nora got this big old sucka to roast.”
    “Now, that’s mighty white of you, sah,” Jason drawled.
    Joe chuckled, nearly choking on the burger. “Fuck you. …”
    As soon as Slack thought Jason’s car had left the block, he turned back from the entrance of his grandmother’s building and headed toward the street. He knew he couldn’t risk doing anything in the lobby. Too many people knew his grandmother, and knew his reputation. If the old lady had tripped on him once, she’d do it again. But Slack knew he had to get some bucks from somewhere. There was stuff he needed.
    Slack stood under the deteriorating entrance arc with the name BATTENCOURT embossed in cement across the top. Much of the name, however, had been chipped or eroded away; all of it was covered with several layers of graffiti. Slack glanced up and down the street and decided there were at least three opportunities waiting for him. He picked the easiest one.
    “Yeah,” Slack drawled confidently. He walked to the narrow alleyway between his grandmother’s building and the one next door. It was where the garbage was kept for pickup and reeked of debris, urine, food, and animal wastes. He carefully stepped over the mess and headed for the super’s storage room. He found a clean garbage bag and, taking off his expensive