Selling Out, Miscegenation, And Other Oneshots
Warnings: elitism, superiority complexes
Chapter Two: The Talented Tenth
Ed Wuncler the First tells Huey something shocking about Woodcrest.
Huey would never call himself religious, especially not in a Judeo-Christian sense. However, when he found out Ed Wuncler was dying, he felt like there had to be a higher power to finally eradicate such evil from the world. Huey wasn't blind to the world; he'd lived in Chicago for ten years. He learned at a young age that death was a part of life. After his parents, the age of his grandfather, and the way black men were dying in America, Huey thought about death often. He wondered what life would be like once Wuncler One was gone. His grandson wouldn't have his grandfather's cloak of support; maybe the lose canon would fall prey to an accident or finally mess with the wrong person causing the law to take him away for good. Maybe his workers could get better wages. Perhaps the environment would improve. Overall the world would be a better place. Once he was dead he couldn't prey on the people of Woodcrest anymore.
"Boy!"
"What?" Riley answered from in the refrigerator.
Granddaddy smacked his teeth. "Not you, the other one." Huey looked up, but didn't answer. "Huey, Ed Wuncler wants to meet with you. I asked him if he'd rather talk to me, but he said no. Specially asked for you. I don't know what that nigga could want; but he's rich and dying so you're going to do whatever the hell he asks. So don't fuck it up for the rest of us"
"And what could Ed Wuncler want with a ten year old? Do you find this a little odd?"
Granddaddy thought about it for a while. "Nope! Just do what you have to, to get that money."
"Yeeaahhhhh, we finna be rich," Riley cheered. Granddaddy did too.
Huey frowned. "I'm not going."
Huey hated being young. There was no autonomy. Huey was at the Wuncler mansion waiting outside the bedroom door of an old, evil, white man. Huey's guard was infinitely raised. If he was looking for a victim, he wouldn't find one here. He was a Freeman, a free man. Huey was nobody's bitch. In retrospect, his grandfather had too much control though. He shouldn't even be in this situation. Suddenly the doors opened and several nurses ushered him in.
Huey looked at Mr. Wuncler. He looked terrible. His pale face was devoid of any color, but an ashen grey. He'd lost a lot of weight. He was sunken, skeletal, and feeble. Huey's eyes hardened. Good, he looked like the monster he was. This was the man who almost had him in federal prison. This was the man who made his friend Jazmine a slave. He hated this man. There would be no sympathy from him.
"You're wondering why I've brought you here."
"..."
"Your eyes. They're as cold and as ruthless as I expected. Nothing I say or do will change how you look at me."
"So then why am I here?" Huey asked in a monotone voice.
Wuncler gave himself some liquid morphine and looked into Huey's eyes. He groaned in slight relief. "You ever wondered about the weirdness of this neighborhood, Huey?"
"..."
"Have you ever thought about you and your brother, the shenanigans that happen, but never yield prison time? The Lethal Interjection Crew, A Pimp Named Slickback, Ruckus? ...This place is our haven. Woodcrest is sanctuary, sanctuary for the talented tenth"
"You're high."
"Think about everyone: Tom DuBois is the best damn prosecutor in the state. A Pimp Named Slickback has an international, advanced, technological brothel. Ebony Brown cured Patterson's Disease. Ruckus has over 30 jobs. Thugnificent/Otis Jenkins escaped TerraBelle, Georgia (a place with the highest AIDS, infant mortality, homicide rates in the country) went to college and became a multimillionaire. There are literally no schools nor jobs in TerraBelle Georgia. Your friend Michael Caesar's mother owns hotels across the Caribbean, Latin America, and US. Then there's your family."
"..."
"How many languages do you speak? How old were you when you scored perfectly on the SAT, ACT, GRE, MCAT, JLPT, and LSAT? Your training in the Eastern arts is exceptional in itself. Your brother has a mind for business, weaponry, and skills in the arts that rival the renaissance. Your grandfather is a war and civil rights hero. Need I go on?"
Huey was curious. "What's this have to do with you?"
"The race has to continue. Someone needs to make sure our best and brightest go on, procreate, and encourage the others."
He repeated again, "What's this have to do with you?"
"Woodcrest will continue getting more affluent. It will continue getting blacker. The whites that live here are nothing, but a buffer. A shield to keep us arising attention. Despite the foolishness of some I don't regret anyone I chose for paradise. You're welcome."
"..."
"Have you figured it out? Why I've called you here? I need someone to continue my work. Ed II and Ed III are disappointments and the perfect figureheads while my real heir continues my legacy. You're going to be my heir." Huey was taken aback. He had so many questions. He wondered if this was just another trick. "This isn't goddamn kickball! I needed you off the field and into the real world. You dominating the league was bringing too much attention to yourself. I didn't like it."
"You can't expect me to believe that you care about anyone in Woodcrest. You have slaves! You let granddad poison everyone in Woodcrest with that slop from the Itis. I almost went to prison because of you! You stole from Jazmine!"
"Everybody is tricked. Everyone is taken down. Everyone, but you. They're no worse for the wear. Even that little mulatto girl you love so much is fine."
"You have slaves."
Ed Wuncler frowned. He didn't give two fucks about the girls in rural Asia he employed. "I suggest you stop giving a damn about Asians because they don't give a damn about you. It's about us, our people, the black race will survive. The talented tenth will lead them."
"You're white!"
"My father was white." Ed Wuncler laughed and then started coughing roughly. "Passing has its advantages. Nothing has made me happier than to see these Aryans kiss my black ass. ...I don't regret anything I've done. Life isn't gumdrops and rainbows. Whatever so called trials I may have caused are nothing compared to the outside. Plus it was a learning experience. Tom got reminded how black he was when I had him falsely arrested. Thugnificent learned how to manage his money when I came to foreclose. Your little girl friend learned hard work doesn't mean shit and life is unfair. Now they're able to relate to the 90%. Many places don't let our people be great. Always the criminal, always the imbecile, never human. But here you don't have to struggle and generations of exceptional blacks have stability."
"...So what about the rest of Black America?"
"That depends on them. Those that do well, become a part of Woodcrest. Those that don't. Don't. You save more via politics and affluence. With this money we can make schools, provide teachers, create business, fund boycotts, stimulate black business, anything after the elite are secure."
"..."
"So what do you say? Are you in?"
Huey looked at the man who he'd called the devil, opened his mouth, and gave his answer.
(A/N) Every Black person in the Boondocks in Woodcrest was exceptional. After reading W.E.B. Du Bois's The Talented Tenth to my sociology class, I came up with this idea. Please review. What do you think about the idea of the Talented Tenth? Do you think the idea is elitist? What do you think about Ed Wuncler I passing (assuming another race to gain privileges or escape persecution)? Do you think Huey agreed to be his secret heir?