No Safeguards

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Authors: H. Nigel Thomas
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listening to your boasts; you were certain I had nothing to say worth listening to — come back to me.
    â€œLet me and you get one thing straight. You going bring into this marriage more than you take out. You is supposed to be my help meet, not wait on me to give you meat. I got a simple philosophy. It got two principles. The first one is: everybody who not crippled and who over age must earn the food that go into their belly and the roof that keep rain off their head. The second one is: always save as much money as you can. But that is only the start. In Aruba, where I used to work for the Largo Oil Company, it had this beefy man name Showalter; red like stewed conch. He was the general manager. Everybody except me, afraid o’ Showalter. Maybe ‘cause he white. My co-workers said I was licking his arse. I find out he love West Indian food. Come from a family of five. They had a West Indian maid back in New Jersey where he grew up. Father was a boss with Standard Oil in New Jersey . Father brought him into Standard Oil straight out o’ high school. Anyway I find out he love West Indian food, and if is one thing I loved to do in them days is cook. So I offer to come cook for he one Sunday as a joke. And he accept. Lived alone in this huge house in Essoville. There’s where the company big shots lived. He was the number three man at Largo. I had a room in Bachelor Quarters. My neighbour was from Barbados and he used to tempt me to go to Oranjestad on a Saturday night, but I was determined to hold on to every copper I get so that if God spare my life and I go back to St. Vincent I could be somebody and command respect.” (Kirton would straighten his shoulders with pride, stop talking, and stare me in the eyes, the smile playing over his papery walnut face saying, I achieved it.)
    â€œThat food I cook for Showalter sweet he till he forget I was just a two-bit black man on the janitorial staff, and we become like friends kind of. So I used to go cook for he every Sunday before I go to church and he paid me for it. From what I see, he was a lonely man. Didn’t look like he was much interested in women. Of course I can’t say I did know his business, because the bosses had their private club where they use to meet, and it was for Whites only and not for Whites at the bottom neither. He really did like me, though. He make me supervisor o’ the janitorial staff. I didn’t have to do no cleaning after that, just give the orders and make sure they get carried out, and not be afraid to crack the whip if I had to, and it come with a nice raise in pay. His doings. One time he tell me, ‘Zach.’ He himself shorten my name to Zach. ‘Zach, you’re not like these other British West Indians here. You have ambition.’ Cynthia, that statement make my head swell big with pride. I was so pleased that a White man of all people could see that. That give me the courage to ask him advice ‘bout all sorts o’ things. He give me a good piece o’ advice about investments. He tell me if I leave my money in the bank, bankers will get rich and I will die poor. He advise me to buy shares, and he offer to do it for me. When I getting ready to leave Aruba — I went there when I was 22 and I leave when I was a month short of 55, and I never work for nobody there except Largo — and he explain what was in my portfolio, and when he tell me how much I worth, I almost shit myself. Cynthia, the trouble with Black people is they think too much about heaven and ignore their welfare on earth. He say that to me, and I think is a true statement. I pay attention to both. And another thing wrong with Black people is they hobnob with the wrong kind o’ people: people like themselves who can’t do nothing for them. He didn’t say that. That is my saying.
    â€œSo, you see, Cynthia, I live my life according to principles that pay off. I proud o’ what I accomplish in Aruba. My

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