Good To Be Seen — Excerpts from; “The Good Negro”

“Hey Mr. Lawrence”, Victor spoke to the building groundsman. Mr. Lawrence was an elderly gentle black man who was grandfathered in at 308 Cragwell Street.

A 4 story loft style federal business and residential building. Two U.S. Senators’ offices and several business offices with store fronts aligned the ground floor with a private entrance. Mr. Lawrence quickly took a liking to Victor due to these fact he was a day by night alcoholic and when he felt the need to bum a few coins off Victor he knew he was sure to receive enough to support his habit. Loft 328 was Victor’s lucky domain. It was the only duplex unit in the building where one could enter from either floor and had clear roof access. Mr. Lawrence gave Victor all the side keys to all the private storage closets and private doors and elevator entrances. Residing on the top floor was “Heaven”, all one would wake up to was clouds and sunshine. Victor couldn’t thank Mrs. Stanwell enough for renting him the loft with zero credit. And background check. Thumbs up for southern hospitality Victor whispered to himself when he signed the lease. Mrs. Stanwell was the matriarch of the neighborhood which Victor never looked at the area as a community. He just assumed that being in the heart of downtown it was just a random newly renovated historic tobacco district. Mrs. Stanwell would stop in Victor, Shirley Mae, and Caroline’s office oftenly to shoot the breeze about the town’s latest politics.

Stay Fit was the local fitness nonprofit Shirley Mae spearheaded as CEO. Caroline was Stay Fit’s personal fitness trainer and Victor was their multimedia coordinator. The “Mighty 3” would sit in their lackadaisical office looking through their store front’s window at the local executives and popular business colleagues traveling to their offices in the neighboring blocks. Cragwell Street was downtown’s business conduit. Like clockwork executives and employees would walk pass Stay Fit during lunch and in the afternoon for happy hours visiting the nearby restaurants, bistros, and breweries.

Shirley Mae ran Stay Fit when she felt like it. Since she secured annual grants ranging from One hundred to Three Hundred Thousand dollars she believed in hosting several speaking engagements throughout the year on dieting and how to eat was just enough. Soon to later find out her funders didn’t agree. The good times rolled and Victor reaped the fruits of Stay Fit nonprofit’s programming. Cragwell street’s connections took Victor’s budding career over the top overnight and he became a local success story, of an implant moved to town who wowed the entire community with his film and photography skills. Victor came to town with a belief that if he captured every landmark of importance to the community and gave it just gave it away “free” of charge, his works of art would be chosen by the highest local bidders. He was right! The area’s million and billionaires appeared out of the woodworks to figure out who was the new artist in town. It was a once in an every 50 years miracle an artist of Victor’s caliber would document the area in the fashion he did. Last known artist was a slave name Eric Thomas, an indentured servant that state purchased his freedom as a slave because he was an outstanding furniture maker. The town dedicated an entire musuem after Thomas and a selection high fashion pieces of his authentic furniture. So having Victor a part of Stay Fit was clandestine, and both of his co workers were excited to keep him parked at Cragwell Street.

Stay Fit’s office was a revolving door. Local guest stopped by during work hours like a high school class schedule to gossip. Down the hall hailing from Republican Senator’s office Coy Blue, one of Shirley Mae’s besties, a metrosexual black eyed clean cut tall male would soak up all the early morning hours with political and sissy chat. Next up was Trina Hatchet, Ronald Kaine Democratic Senator’s assistant from across the hall. Mr. Lawrence would pop his head in from time to time and right before lunch time Stay Fit’s office was a happy hour in full swing. Between the local politicians, Mr. Lawrence, Mrs. Stanwell and the Stay Fit team work was always the last option. The “Mighty 3” would prance across the street to the bistro for lunch. Most days were spent like this and by 2 pm the “Mighty 3” would either host or attend some sort of health event, and retire for the rest of the day.

Victor had his act totally together. He would leave the office and walk down the hallway to the private entrance elevator that takes one upstairs to the residential lofts. Victor would used the secret key Mr. Lawrence gave him to unlock the elevator buttons and press up and disappear into the higher floors of the building. Only two people had keys the elevator, Victor and Mr. Lawrence.

The penthouse-style loft. Is where Victor spent most of his leisure time creating timeless media pieces in front of organization fellows and executives and the place earned the title name “studio”. Mr. Lawrence kept the building freshly painted and cleaned. Every floor was vacuumed and the elevator always smelled like linen. He would go to each office and greet everyone with a “good morning”, and that was kind of his way he checked to see if anyone felt a sense to donate to his daily lunch or after hours drinking habit. He would run special errands for anyone in need. But he saw Victor entering the building whether during work or after work hours it was always a pleasure to greet him. Victor would slip Mr. Lawrence five to ten bucks every encounter. In exchange Mr. Lawrence opened his heart and mouth and always updated Victor on the latest current news and events of the neighborhood. And the latest news that used to be a rumor now became true, the entire building was up for sale. So any prior offers made on offices and any lofts might soon be off the table in the deal hadn’t fell through by now. And that was the news for the next on going months throughout the entire 300 Block of Cragwell Street.

Shirley Mae wasn’t fazed by the budding news of a new owner purchasing the entire building. Her life was golden with 2 spoons. She was too busy gossiping about which local tycoon was hot for her pants and which scene she last left off from “Gone With The Wind”. Her daddy was a president of a core nonprofit organization where he’s raised eighty million dollars over a twenty year span in his position. Shirley Mae could careless about politics and nonprofit rules and structure with her in disciplinary bachelors degree from Florida State University. On the other hand Caroline followed Shirley’s lead down to her attitude and would act as a marking bird laughing to every joke even if it wasn’t funny. Victor was the new player on the block so he was empty, excited, and lost all at the same time. He was overwhelmed he escaped poverty to the point he forgot it even existed. Being new to the area he didn’t quite know what to expect. So he just remained quiet and observed his surroundings by the day.

One exhausted evening on his elevator ride up this is penthouse — loft Victor’s consciousness nature had risen with awareness. Zay and Black’s voices played in his head. “Negro don’t forget where you come from”. Poppy said, “Look at your boy, he’s all high and mighty now. But you know where we come from they will kill you over (a quarter water) a twenty-five cent assorted flavor fruit juice”. The elevator’s doors opened and Victor quickly entered his loft. Awakened by loud banding and moving noises, Victor opened his door and saw the new owners moving heavy restaurant equipment in the loft 322 next door. The hillbilly owners smiled with a friendly devilish smirk. It was too early for this encounter so Victor politely closed his door realizing it’s a new day on Cragwell Street. He quickly slipped into his jogging suit and pressed the elevator button to the bottom floor. Lights in all the political offices were off and Stay Fit was the only bright light Victor could see walking down the dim lit hallway. A dark feeling was in the air. “Good morning ladies,” Victor said as he entered the office. And like great investigators Shirley Mae was full of steam running her mouth about the new building owners better yet of the entire 300 block of Cragwell Street.

The owner was a real bullish heavy set hillbilly named Mr. Fenty, who was a high school drop out self made multi millionaire who formed his own welding company separate from the same company he worked for. Mr. Fenty made it his business to meet each and every tenant on a one on one basis. When it came down to meeting Victor, Mr. Fenty was over excited due to all the great things he heard about him. To find out he was only seeking to control Victor’s future as a paying slave. He heard about all the business Victor had drummed up in the community and Mr.Fenty wanted in by any means possible. In return Victor always took heed to the voices in his head and followed his “faith” with out a shadow of a doubt. Which places him at the right place at the right time.

Months after Mr. Fenty and his hillbilly relatives to over the 300 block of Cragwell Street and its array of promising business fronts he decided to give a ribbon cutting for his newly opening Black Leaf Bistro diagonally across the street from Stay Fit. Victor had documented every old, modern, dilapidated structure in the downtown area and the bistro was one of the buildings he captured in its vintage stage before the bistro was ever a thought to see. Instantly Victor sent the photograph off to be created into a huge framed print and the day of the ribbon cutting, right on Mr. Fenty’s birthday he served it to him in hand and delivered a signed hundred bill, “good luck” on your future business. Mr. Fenty’s eyes lit up like a deer in headlights and his roast cheeks puffed like Santa. He stroked his hand through his all white head of hair and just winked one eye at Victor. The print was a hung and made a staple at the bistro in days to come.

Several years passed by and professionals had been swapped out of their job roles left and right. It was a constant fight for power. Newcomers with new ideas, new lazy folks stagnating the circulation of the nonprofit sector, many professionals totally lost about grant funding and how to operate a npo and it’s order of operations.

The non-profit sector became a mess as the months flew by. Stay Fit made promises to the funders they couldn’t make happen after they were grant Seven Hundred and Fifty Thousand Dollars for over the following three years of operation. It became a mess with no one seeking to clean up. Mr. Lawrence was fired on the day Mr. Fenty’s handcock dried on deed to Cragwell Street and the hillbillies threw him out the front door into the street like trash calling him a “Nigger!”. Promising to press charges if they ever saw him again on or near the property of 300 Cragwell Street.

The good days turned black hearted fast as if the downtown community was falling apart. Shirley Mae and Caroline were under scrutiny for poor performance and under achieving what their mission statement promised they would deliver. Victor was the key to ninety-five percent of their success because everything was visual through vignettes. The tides turned and Victor got a call that his momma became stroke ill pneumonia. Thinking of the current state of stress Victoria has to suit up the prepare for Mr. Dickey and the arrogant mob of boys back around the way of his ancient stomping grounds.

Landing at La Guardia airport the fresh smell of polluted air filled with a million fumes Victor was smacked with the busy New York city life. There was one mission and one mission at hand. It was to expedite this northern visit quickly as possible. Check in Jacobi’Hospital’s front desk and check two bags of luggage back at the American Airlines bag check counter. The automatic doors opened and Victor’s family stood around a hospital bed praying to his momma. The doctor rushed in inquiring what would Victor’s wishes be moving forward with his momma health conditions. Aunt Harriette proposed to the nurse to just pull the plug. While other relatives partially agreed mayhem started to set in at the intensive care unit. Shirley Mae interrupted with a phone call commanding Victor that he return immediately to the South because Stay Fit had a presentation meeting for their final upcoming grant cycle review due in a couple of days. Victor hung up the phone with a feeling of disrespect and met with Doctor Hennings one on one to sign the proxy papers. Victor instructed the doctor to keep his momma on the ventilation box as long as needed until she show signs of recovery. The doctor agreed and Victor was on the next red-eye flight back to the South.

Stay Fit was turned into a scholar think tank and laboratory. Shirley Mae’s daddy Dr. Richard drew a slew of Bell Curve diagrams with in-depth explanations on how to file 990 ez forms and articles. Shirley Mae was over it all and she turned to Caroline and Victor and said, “Let’s just go to lunch!” Motioning her dad to just stop and forget about the outcome. As days passed by it seemed as if every worker in the downtown non profit sector knew of the scrutiny Stay Fit was under. Many people you only saw occasionally now started walking by Stay Fit’s storefront with dirty smirks and smiles. Some people laughed and shouted from cars “Losers!” Shirley Mae and Caroline’s friends became less frequent with their visits and pop ins. Stay Fit became a ghost town, lights were cut off and file cabinets were being rolled out by the hillbillies seeking new tenants. Victor was dancing on different professional sets capturing moments with his mirrorless camera making a name for himself in the town.

News headlines blurred the air and Stay Fit’s CEO Shirley Mae blasted their funders unprofessional support, unrealistic funding tactics, and uneducated senior program officers who governed her and Caroline. Victor was not in sight to experience the major blow delivered to the town’s non-profit sector he was busy on a secret invite by the funders to Montana to document their city’s infrastructure.

Laura was the new big fish in town who befriended Shirley Mae and Carolina several months before their crash. She would appear at Stay Fit’s office for the girl’s daily lunch break. Laura was too heavy and wore satin trench coats to conceal her shape. She migrated back home to town as a cum laude graduate from Louisiana State University in communications and marketing. She was the media director at the Big Leaf Foundation which funded everything moving in the town. The afternoon Victor returned from the airport he received a call from Laura with a round trip ticket to Montana. Victor held no cut cards because the Big Leaf Foundation was the reason her landed in town straight from film college. They passed Victor’s name around in a hat and he landed at Stay Fit, yet he truly never was an employee but a contractor for Stay Fit. Big Leaf’s secretary Annie called Victor to make sure she had the correct spelling of his name and the desired time of his flight correct and coordinated. Victor was a red- eye flight guy so he chose the earliest departure at 6 AM. There was a circuit fire in Denver and Victor’s flight was delayed. The wait was so long Victor that he saw every one of Big Leaf’s executives and program officers board members boarding their flights waving at him saying, “See you in Montana Vic!”

Victor was told to book a rental car at the closest airport to the State Of Montana and to drive to the meet and greet. The Hertz rental car salesman was very proactive and has put Victor in a convertible to see the beautiful mountains and countryside. Victor weaves in and out of traffic with Earth, Wind, and Fire blowing through the speakers focused on making history by beating the Big Leaf staff’s plane. “Welcome To Montana” and within miles from the airport Victor smiled knowing the commute was a piece of cake. In the past he had sped through the inner city streets recklessly as an adolescent without a driver’s license for fun. Walking into the airport arrival waiting area news press was everywhere stand side by side for greeting the Big Lead big wigs and center stage stood Victor pointed and and ready to shoot his digital clip nonstop. The board members , program officers, private investors, and Big Leaf CEO exited the plane and continuous flash ranged from every corner of the corridor. The staff smiled in awe to see Victor their home’s own paparazzi dominate the moment. Many board members who haven’t met Victor yet heard so many intriguing stories of him were now impressed. A three day visitation of heavy mind bending and number crunching filled meetings ended with an informational discussion and emotional plane ride back about Stay Fit. Shirley Mae and Caroline were being laughed at within the circle of top tier executives. One board member turned to Victor and said, “Don’t say nothing to them gals!” Babbling on about their degree and origin initiative wasn’t good enough to be funded. Out of nowhere a curly-fro redhead woman with folded arms name Mattie Jo turned out to be the igniter of Stay Fit’s downward spiral. Shirley Mae dumped Mattie Jo’s son Byson. Right then and there Victor learned that the business world is split between ponds and oceans. Some people are big fishes in a small pond like the Stay Fit girls but there’s bigger fish in a big ocean you will never see that will swallow you whole.

Victor reached the elevator and he saw the hillbillies were having a hard time getting into the storage rooms that are on both sides of the elevator shaft. They kept fidgeting, pushing, and twisting the door knobs but no luck. Victor pulled out his key ring and selected a set of bronze keys and opened both doors. He they gave them a set to each and every door lock in the entire building. The hillbillies were so ecstatic they had informed Mr. Fenty and Victor’s rent was reduced to an astonishing base rate.

The Stay Fit girls ruined their reputation in the town. Big Leaf didn’t address the girl’s public blow up they just pulled their funding and blacklisted their future opportunities to ever show their face downtown. Money flowed like the Dan River and Victor felt good about his new accomplishments so he decided to purchase at Maserati. On his way there he made a call to Mr. Fenty and said, “Bill, I twenty thousand dollars for you sir, I want to buy!” And before he could finish his sentence Mr. Fenty rushed the words, Come see me boy!” Out his mouth and hung up.

To be continued!