HQ BK 3
black star origins
by rebecca jean-louis
WORK IN PROGRESS!!!
(click the tiny ‘Older Posts’ link at the lower right corner to read more chapters)
CHAPTER ELEVEN
1991 – Mid-point
It was good of Bolo- kind of him, even, to have Teó Henriques set the scene for what was really going on.
To let me know, from the very beginning, what my true role was to be.
CHAPTER TWELVE
1972 – Flashback to Vineyard Town
I was fourteen years old by the time my father realized it was time to return to Jamaica.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
1991 – Behind The Throne
I knew that Bolo and his wife weren’t enjoying exile in Queens.
Their three daughters, on the other hand, would probably beg to differ.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
1991 – Downtime
“Batty Rider! Wha yuh yute know ‘bout dis yeh music?” I teased.
Olmando smirked and said, “We live in Brooklyn, baby.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
1991 – Downstream
By the end of the month, I felt like I had a handle on all aspects of Bolo’s operations.
All of it made sense to me.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
1992 – Elders
Prentiss was the one person I could count on to help me work through the next steps in my trajectory.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
1992 – Back Out There
The lumber yard was located on a quiet side street in an industrial part of Canarsie.
Domino games took place every Thursday night, after business hours.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
1992 – Rich Man’s Wealth Is In The City
“Y cómo conseguiste estos?” the man to my right asked. “Es difícil sacar algo de Panamá ahora mismo.”
“My business partner is Panamanian,” I explained. “He’s one of the few people in New York these days who still has associates coming and going.”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
1992 – Investments
“Diache, Hopeton… hacía tiempo que tú no pasabas por aquí,” Osvald said as he shook my hand.
CHAPTER TWENTY
1992 – Jet Bridge
My inaugural visit to Panama City was planned for the first week of January 1993.
It was the first time in my life I was being sent for on my own terms, and not just shuttled around as if I were an inconvenience needing management.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
1992 – Home
“So, Mano,” I began. “Is that short for Manuel?”
“Manfred,” he replied, briefly taking his eyes off the road to glance at me through the rearview mirror. “Manfred Lim.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
1993 – Good Life
Bolo was at his front door, waiting for us.
“Hopeton,” he greeted me as I exited the car. “Welcome to Panama! I trust you had a safe journey?”
