But it was as if he hadn’t heard me. He just stared out the window, and then, as if snapping out of a trance, he waved
the waitress over.
“You want another drink?”
“Why don’t we just get the check?”
Roy looked at me and smiled. “I can tell you worry too much, Barack. That’s my problem, as well. I think we need to
learn to go with the flow. Isn’t that what you say in America? Just go with the flow....” Roy laughed again, loud
enough for the people at the next table to turn around. Only the magic was gone out of it now; it sounded hollow, as if
it were traveling across a vast, empty distance.
I caught a flight out the next day-Roy needed to spend some time with his wife, and I didn’t have the money for
another night at the hotel. We had breakfast together, and in the morning light he seemed in better spirits. At the airport
gate, we shook hands and hugged, and he promised to come visit me once things had settled down. The entire flight
back to Chicago, though, and through the rest of the weekend, I couldn’t rid myself of the sense that Roy was in danger
somehow, that old demons were driving him toward an abyss, and that if only I was a better brother, my intervention
would prevent his fall.
Roy was still on my mind when Johnnie walked into my office late Monday afternoon.
“You’re back early,” Johnnie said. “How was your trip?”
“It was good. Good to see my brother.” I nodded, tapping on the edge of my desk. “So what happened while I was
gone?”
Johnnie dropped into a chair. “Well,” he said, “we met with the state senator. He committed to introducing a bill to get
funding for a pilot program. Maybe not the whole half million, but enough.”
“That’s terrific. How about the high school principals?”
“Just got back from a meeting with Dr. King, the principal at Asante’s school. The rest of ’em haven’t returned my
calls.”
“That’s all right. What did Dr. King have to say?”
“Oh, he was all smiles,” Johnnie said. “Said he really liked the proposal. He got real excited when he heard we might
get funding. Said he’d encourage the other principals to work with us and that we’d have his full support. ‘Nothing’s
more important than saving our youth,’ he said.”
“Sounds good.”
“Right. Sounds good. So then, I’m about to walk out of his office when suddenly he gives me this.” Johnnie reached
into his briefcase, pulled out a piece of paper, and handed it to me. I read over a few lines before handing it back.
“A résumé?”
“Not just any résumé, Barack. His wife’s résumé. Seems she’s kinda bored around the
house, see, and Dr. King thinks she’d make an ‘excellent’ director for our program. No pressure, you understand. Just
once the money is allocated, some consideration, you know what I mean.”
“He gave you his wife’s résumé-”