Gagliano,Anthony - Straits Of Fortune.wps - Plot & Excerpts
He used to be my trainer. Name's Jack. Jack is back. Hey, man, I think I'm going to write a song about you." I bumped fists with all of them, and some of the tension seeped out of the compartment, but I could tell that I still made them uneasy, and the reason for that had nothing to do with white or black. It had to do with trouble. I was breath- ing it. In the mellow atmosphere of the limousine, I was the one discordant element, a human thunderhead on an other- wise sunny day. It wasn't that they didn't like me; it was just that they would all feel a lot better once I left. I didn't blame them. There were no angels in that car, and Hank had done time for assault up in Larchmont, New York, but his story was not the one you might expect. His father had been a neurosurgeon and his mother a professor of lin- guistics at NYU. He had an older sister who was a lawyer and an older brother who painted pictures no one under- stood. But Hank had been wild and not much interested in upper-middle-class life.
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