"Royce" Part 6

Click here for previous "Royce." 

"I respect your opinion, Solomon, but I suggest you watch your mouth" Albany said as he and Solomon dined on steaks that cost well over $900 each. Albany did not touch his. It was his subtle way of letting Solomon know that he was that wealthy.

"I just don't get it, Albany" Solomon said as he shook his head. "You have enough money to hire the best that money can buy. But for some reason you desire to surround yourself with Negroes."

"Djinn is not a Negro. He is Arab. And money has nothing to do with this. They are good at what I pay them to do" Albany said as he sipped his wine. "Oberon alone was a millionaire before he began working for me. Djinn was rudderless but once he was trained to channel all that rage in my service he became the third deadliest 'worker' in the country."

"Who is number two? I know who is number one..." Solomon said while rolling his eyes.

"We all know that my baby brother is the best. God only knows how he is still alive. But as for number two, Juan Baptista is just amazing. Have you ever seen him work?" Albany asked.

"Once. That was all I needed. Too bad he's a dirty Mexican otherwise I would have scooped him up a few years ago. I hear your sister has just hired a cripple. What is wrong with your family? Do they choose to be failures?" Solomon asked.

"I do not pretend to understand their motives. I saw your new help. He is quite large" Albany said.

"Van Housen is a machine. You think your brother is good just wait until he crosses Van Housen. He will break your brother in half! How about a demonstration?" Solomon asked mockingly.

"No thank you. I have seen tape of him. He moves fast for someone his size." Albany pushed his plate away from himself.

"Six foot nine, 325lbs. of Aryan muscle" Solomon smiled proudly.

"Does it not bother you having an Aryan for your help seeing as how you're a Jew?" Albany was trying to push Solomon's buttons.

"Not at all. He works for me. Not the other way around. Besides, at least he isn't a Negro." Solomon smiled proudly at himself.

"Oberon, please come in" Albany said. Oberon walked in smiling ear to ear. Albany motioned for him to sit. Oberon unbuttoned his jacket and sat down. Oberon was six foot four, 275lbs. of Black anger. "Oberon, how much are you worth?" Albany asked.

"Shit. More than this old cracker" Oberon said while pointing at Solomon. "I'm just fuckin' with you. Last time I check, which was last night, about $25,000,000. Give or take. Why?"

"Because Solomon here wonders why I hire Negroes to do my work" Albany said.

"Ain't no 'Negroes' here! There's one nigga and one sand nigga. Ain't no 'Negroes' though. This ain't the fuckin' 50's. I saw that big ass White boy you got. They call him 'The House'?" Oberon asked.

"Correct. Albany, do you always keep your animals off their leashes? I am afraid your pet will attack me any moment." Solomon felt confident saying such things about Oberon with Albany so close. "And must you have such a potty mouth, you beast?"

"Fuck you, Grandpa Munster!" Oberon shouted and stood quickly. "Don't think your bitch ass is safe jus' cause Mister Danish is here! I will stick my foot so far down your throat that I'll be able to polish my shoes out your ass!"

"Calm down, Oberon" Albany said while rubbing his temples. "Is Djinn available?" he asked. "I have not seen him all day."

"Nigga is out there prayin' or some shit. He does it, like, eighteen times a day or somethin'" Oberon said. He excused himself and went to find Djinn.

"Solomon, you can not keep this up with Oberon. When I am gone he will be in charge of all my endeavors" Albany said.

"Then hopefully I will be dead by then. Why not give it to the Iraqi?" Solomon asked.

"He is not Iraqi and you know it" Albany said. "Djinn was named by the men who tried to kill him. 'Djinn' is a Muslim term. It can mean 'demon', 'genie', or any supernatural being that can assume the form of a man or beast. He is a monster in battle. Too emotional. He could never be in charge. Oberon, as eccentric as he is, is business minded. That is one of the reasons I do not mind his prayers. It keeps him under control of his emotions." Oberon entered the room again.

"He still prayin', man" Oberon said. "Want me to hurry him up?"

"No. There are other issues to concern ourselves with. His presence is not necessary at this juncture. But have a seat. Solomon, contact Van Housen. I will find Juan Baptista. I have a plan and we shall need all the man power we can get."