needed an escort, he would invite his paralegal, Sara. Recently Sara had met her future husband while escorting Raymond to a client dinner party.
“I don’t hate them. And you know I’ll do anything you need,” Trent smiled.
“I know and I appreciate you,” Raymond said as he sipped some of the cold wine.
About an hour later Raymond was listening to Maxwell’s mellow voice, blending with Trent’s soulful snore, when the phone rang. It was late and Raymond figured it was his father asking about the dinner. He had talked with his father more in the last two months than in the entire previous year. And now when they spoke it wasn’t about Kirby’s football career.
“Hello,” Raymond whispered. He didn’t want to wake Trent. There was no response. Just silence. “Hello,” he whispered again. Suddenly Raymond heard a deep, male voice. “Watch out, my brother. They’re out to get you.” The voice was both frightening and familiar.
And then Raymond heard a dial tone.
Raymond didn’t tell Trent about either of his phone calls. Not the call he received from Basil, who, Trent knew, had rocked Raymond’s world at one point. And Raymond was feeling some guilt because thesound of Basil’s voice made him sweat in places it shouldn’t. Raymond didn’t mention the strange late-night warning call because he didn’t want to talk about it, he wanted it to go away. Besides, Raymond had convinced himself he was dreaming.
But it didn’t take him long to discover which was the more ominous. A couple of days later Raymond got a call from Lisa Lanier.
“Looks like we’ve got a problem,” she said.
“What type of problem?” Raymond asked.
“The NAACP is going to oppose your nomination,” Lisa said calmly.
Raymond felt a sudden chill and then a cold sweat.
“Are you serious?” Raymond asked. He couldn’t believe that the organization he had been a member of since he was nine was against him. His birthday gift. Not the organization where his father, mother, and brother were also lifetime members. This couldn’t be, he thought.
“Yeah, but we’re going to find out what’s going on,” Lisa assured him. “And besides it’s just the local chapter. It’s not like it’s the national office opposing you. This happens all the time.”
“Did they say why?”
“No, I think it’s because they want Attorney Pope since he is a local boy.”
“Are you sure?” Raymond asked. What he really wanted to know was could the NAACP be opposing him because he’s gay?
“Yeah, I’m sure that’s it. They wouldn’t dare do it because of anything else. But nothing is final. They’re holding a press conference in about an hour. I just didn’t want you to turn on the television and find out about it that way,” Lisa said.
“Thanks for warning me.”
“And I don’t want to be the bearer of bad news, but the FBI discovered something they want to talk with you about,” Lisa said.
“Did they say what?”
“No, but I’m sure they will get in contact with you. Now, Raymond,don’t worry, everything will be fine. If it was something major or something that would prevent the nomination, they would have informed the senator. Instead they want to speak with you directly. It’s probably something about a date or some school you attended.”
“Maybe it’s my leave of absence,” Raymond said.
“Don’t worry, this is all part of the confirmation process. Before you know it, I will be calling you Judge Tyler.”
“I hope you’re right, Lisa. I hope you’re right.”
About an hour later Raymond watched as his hostess from the NAACP dinner read from a sheet of paper. Several black men were surrounding her like bodyguards. A television graphic identified them as CCS, Concerned Clergy of Seattle. He noticed the Reverend Willie Mack, Trent’s minister from Mount Zion.
“It’s not that we don’t feel Mr. Tyler is qualified. He’s a fine lawyer and has been a wonderful addition to the Seattle area. We
“I don’t hate them. And you know I’ll do anything you need,” Trent smiled.
“I know and I appreciate you,” Raymond said as he sipped some of the cold wine.
About an hour later Raymond was listening to Maxwell’s mellow voice, blending with Trent’s soulful snore, when the phone rang. It was late and Raymond figured it was his father asking about the dinner. He had talked with his father more in the last two months than in the entire previous year. And now when they spoke it wasn’t about Kirby’s football career.
“Hello,” Raymond whispered. He didn’t want to wake Trent. There was no response. Just silence. “Hello,” he whispered again. Suddenly Raymond heard a deep, male voice. “Watch out, my brother. They’re out to get you.” The voice was both frightening and familiar.
And then Raymond heard a dial tone.
Raymond didn’t tell Trent about either of his phone calls. Not the call he received from Basil, who, Trent knew, had rocked Raymond’s world at one point. And Raymond was feeling some guilt because thesound of Basil’s voice made him sweat in places it shouldn’t. Raymond didn’t mention the strange late-night warning call because he didn’t want to talk about it, he wanted it to go away. Besides, Raymond had convinced himself he was dreaming.
But it didn’t take him long to discover which was the more ominous. A couple of days later Raymond got a call from Lisa Lanier.
“Looks like we’ve got a problem,” she said.
“What type of problem?” Raymond asked.
“The NAACP is going to oppose your nomination,” Lisa said calmly.
Raymond felt a sudden chill and then a cold sweat.
“Are you serious?” Raymond asked. He couldn’t believe that the organization he had been a member of since he was nine was against him. His birthday gift. Not the organization where his father, mother, and brother were also lifetime members. This couldn’t be, he thought.
“Yeah, but we’re going to find out what’s going on,” Lisa assured him. “And besides it’s just the local chapter. It’s not like it’s the national office opposing you. This happens all the time.”
“Did they say why?”
“No, I think it’s because they want Attorney Pope since he is a local boy.”
“Are you sure?” Raymond asked. What he really wanted to know was could the NAACP be opposing him because he’s gay?
“Yeah, I’m sure that’s it. They wouldn’t dare do it because of anything else. But nothing is final. They’re holding a press conference in about an hour. I just didn’t want you to turn on the television and find out about it that way,” Lisa said.
“Thanks for warning me.”
“And I don’t want to be the bearer of bad news, but the FBI discovered something they want to talk with you about,” Lisa said.
“Did they say what?”
“No, but I’m sure they will get in contact with you. Now, Raymond,don’t worry, everything will be fine. If it was something major or something that would prevent the nomination, they would have informed the senator. Instead they want to speak with you directly. It’s probably something about a date or some school you attended.”
“Maybe it’s my leave of absence,” Raymond said.
“Don’t worry, this is all part of the confirmation process. Before you know it, I will be calling you Judge Tyler.”
“I hope you’re right, Lisa. I hope you’re right.”
About an hour later Raymond watched as his hostess from the NAACP dinner read from a sheet of paper. Several black men were surrounding her like bodyguards. A television graphic identified them as CCS, Concerned Clergy of Seattle. He noticed the Reverend Willie Mack, Trent’s minister from Mount Zion.
“It’s not that we don’t feel Mr. Tyler is qualified. He’s a fine lawyer and has been a wonderful addition to the Seattle area. We
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