“…please blame it on the Son of the Morning”
– Jay-Z
“You know everybody in Ladoga,” Lincoln said to Ms. Eunice, “what you know about Afonso Barnes?”
He was sitting at a table with Ms. Eunice and she was reviewing a paper he had done for his history class. She laughed out loud when he said the name.
“I know his name wasn’t Afonso. He took it from the circus I heard, that was his act. He pretended to be the king of the Kongo for a bunch a white people. Imagine, them people believed that high yellow man was from Africa! But he definitely wasn’t white so I guess racism made him believable.”
Seeing how the story tickled Ms. Eunice made Lincoln laugh.
“I don’t mean to poke fun or nothing,” she said, “everybody deserve respect, and that man is dead and gone. But he a good example of the power of a good story and a good storyteller. People talked about that man like he was famous, and I guess he was around here, around the Bottoms, but some people act like people knew him all around the world. He was just a good looking man from Ladoga that got to go some places most of the people around here never get to see themselves. They say your daddy Afonso grandson, and I can definitely see him in you. You talented just like him, more talented if you ask me. He was nice to look at but he ain’t have much going on. And don’t get me started on that name.”
Ms. Eunice said with annoyance and she slapped the table.
“Maybe he deserve it for being ignorant. You know Afonso of the Kongo from the 1500s in Africa ruled an empire that sold other black people into slavery? It’s a foul name if you know history. He could have changed the perception of the name, but I don’t think he did too good a job of that.”
Lincoln listened to Ms. Eunice’s memory of Afonso and compared it to what he’d heard from other people; his father who hated him, old people around town who were intrigued by him, Bobby Johnson who had loved and admired him, and Ms. Eunice who saw him as the projection of a smaller, more humorous figure. He had been so many things to different people and would undoubtedly live on in the folklore of Ladoga for years to come, and Lincoln respected that. Afonso had made a name for himself in a town that celebrated money, athleticism, and criminal infamy reserved for very successful thieves and drug dealers. Lincoln didn’t mind the comparison to the man when he thought about it that way, and he could achieve even more if he learned the lessons of Afonso’s failures.
“Why you asking about Afonso?” Ms. Eunice asked. She slid his history paper across the table. “Paper’s good. Good work.”
“This man was at my house the other day, said he was my daddy’s brother. Said his mama took care of Afonso before he died.”
“Poor Bobby Johnson,” Ms. Eunice said. “I know his mama was trying to do the Christian thing when she took Afonso in. That man was homeless cause he never bothered to ever make a life for himself. You should learn that lesson from the man, when you grow up, you have to make a life for yourself or you’ll mess around and end up old without a roof over your head. He was too busy exploring, trying to find the thing that was gonna change his life, probably so he could have enough money to pay other people to do it all for him. Exploring is fine, but make some money and then make a home for yourself. That way you can take care of yourself, your family. But she took Afonso in at the end of his life, when he should’ve been with professionals who know how to deal with dementia. I hear that man was in a dark place at the end of his life. All his demons caught up to him in the end and Bobby mama, bless her heart, she did her best for Afonso because she had always loved him when she was a girl. Bobby Johnson was a good boy before all that, and when Afonso finally died, he wasn’t the same. He looked out for your daddy, though. He really thought they was brothers, but I hear your daddy don’t like hearing that. It’s a reason Richard so eager to forget about Afonso. I probably shouldn’t be all in your business like this, but I hope you understand why I’ll say something you probably done heard alot from your daddy over the years. Afonso wasn’t a good man, and Richard tried to get to know him through Bobby, but it wasn’t a good thing. Bobby was on drugs and Richard wanted more for his life so he closed that door.”
“You saying I shouldn’t open it?” Lincoln asked.
“It ain’t really yours to open,” Ms. Eunice said with a chuckle. “It’s just a story now. Bobby still around but who knows for how much longer. If you’re curious about your family tree, Lincoln, I think that’s always a good thing to spend time looking into. But don’t buy into that Afonso hype. He was just a man, nothing more, nothing less.”
“He sound like one of them devils.”
Ms. Eunice nodded slowly. “I’m sure some people saw him that way.”
“Maybe that’s what my mama saw in me,” Lincoln said. His mother’s attitude toward him hadn’t really changed over the years, but his father had made her seek psychological help after multiple instances of her attacking Lincoln in his sleep. She was on medication that made her docile and she mostly stayed in her bedroom with the TV on.
“You look like Afonso, but you ain’t him. You something special, young man.”
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