The Second Coming
The Second Coming
By James Salerno
Copyright James Salerno 2012
Published At Smashwords
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment. This ebook may not be resold or given to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
DEDICATION
This book is dedicated to Connie Kevlock, Jimmy, Casey and Emma Salerno, John Salerno, Jeff Salerno, Gerald Salerno and my mother, Loraine Salerno. They are my inspiration and bring me much joy. I want to communicate my fond memories of my deceased father, Dr. Silvio Salerno.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I would like to acknowledge Connie for her objective and fair criticism and her endurance in her dedication to editing this text.
PROLOGUE
“Why does one man kill another man?” He asked filled with rage. “Have we learned anything from history? The twentieth century alone has been a bloodbath filled with wars, terrorism, genocide and atrocities that typically show that man will never change. Since the beginning of time, we have killed one another, violated another man’s rights, stolen from another and violated the basic fundamental laws of society and religion. Do we not see or are we blind? Are we so self absorbed that we fail to see where we have gone wrong? Does any religion teach use to kill, injure or violate other men?” He looked directly into the camera and the viewers could feel his passion.
“I am here with the man who desires simply to be called Petch. He has won the Nobel Prize in Medicine for his contributions in the cure and eventual elimination of cancer. Is he a great prophet or a con man? I recently interviewed him and these are excerpts for that interview. Either way, it is fascinating viewing.” The interviewer paused, astonished by his simple observations. “Is there hope for mankind or will we doomed to failure?”
“There will always be hope.” His firm answer was said unwaveringly and convincingly. “I cannot tell you how I know this but I do. This may seem hard to believe but the Almighty, as He prefers to be called, has sent me as a spokesman. The world has to change before it is too late. Men and women must look at themselves in a new light and work at improvement in their thinking and actions.”
“Everywhere we look, in the media, electronic devices, print, discussion and thought, we are faced with violence, cruelty and injustice. We see and experience hurt, murder, deception and greed. Are these values that man cherishes? It has always been turned around. Can’t we see some goodness and kindness? Of course, we are trained to ignore such acts of goodness because they are not sensational. But aren’t they truly sensational in that fact alone that they are pure and good?”
“You say you are a “spokesman” but haven’t we heard that before from others?” The interviewers question held a bitter tone. “How do we know that you are not just another phony?” She was a famous editorial journalist and the program was being broadcast on national television, and subsequently being taped.
“Have I asked you for anything except the examination of yourselves? Is the truth not really what you wanted to hear? I do not talk in riddles but in truth!” He said slamming his fist on the table for emphasis. “Does mankind possess the ability to destroy itself? I know it does but it is not too late.”
“Okay, let’s say you are guided by the Almighty. What religion are you?” She asked without being prompted by the director of the television show.
“Ah, hah, the trap of identifying my religion. Differences in religious belief have been the source of war for centuries. I was a Catholic priest but the Almighty refused to be identified with a particular religion. I think He was more concerned with man’s behavior than pigeon-holing Himself to any religious affiliation. He was speaking as the Creator of Man, not as any of the names we have given this deity. Man’s proclivity towards fighting and warfare has to be replaced by a desire for peace. This was His most important issue.”
Laughing, he said, “Do you honestly believe that in a Universe filled with more galaxies than there are grains of sand, that there are not other living beings. Unfortunately, this message has to be sent elsewhere. Mankind alone is not guilty. Creatures of every form have failed like man. This message has been conveyed elsewhere I assure you. Can you see that my message is not just Earthbound but universal? “
“You have been to other galaxies? Places where no man has ever gone? Are we supposed to believe this?”
“Yes, I have. I have seen violence and warfare elsewhere in the Universe. I know it sounds preposterous and that I have offended some people by making seemingly preposterous claims but that is irrelevant. I can assure all of you that I was sent here to convey the truth and only the truth. I am only flesh and bones like you but I am privy to knowledge that is far beyond your comprehension. You can choose to understand what I have to say or you can be in denial. If I can change the thinking of one person, then I have achieved much. If I can change the thinking of most, then I have achieved my goal. I know I can never change everyone.”
“Can you perform miracles?”
“If I perform a miracle to make you believe me would it not be cast in doubt and skepticism? What is the point? Does my message have to be threatening or proved?” he asked gently. “It seems like everyone is missing the point, the killing of another man is against the laws of the Almighty. War, genocide, and cruelty are wrong, peace is the only solution. There can be no other way!”
He had finally arrived where he knew he should be: in front of a huge audience. All of his skeptics and doubters could not reasonably argue with him now. His message was so simple that it was unarguable. Man accepted his own failings and did little to correct them. To make matters even worse, modern man glorified killing and violence in movies, print and television. Why couldn’t the common man see how perverted his thinking had become?
This interview was seen across the globe many different languages. The world had taken notice of this man who advocated peace. After all wasn’t that really what his simple message was attempting to establish; man would have to cease in his violent ways. Man, the human race, had to learn to tolerate other men. It was really that simple. But man could never seem to be able throughout history to get it right.
Man had to learn to coexist with his fellow man. It was time that the human race examined itself in a new light. Violence and intolerance had to be stopped. Couldn’t there be peace instead of upheaval and conflict? Weren’t we all on this planet to coexist as fellow human beings and not look for selfish gain? The efforts put into war and genocide could easily be replaced by efforts in helping other human beings.
“Since the beginning of time, jealousies or power, racial or religious differences, and greed in regards to money or property have been and always will be the root of ALL evil. Because of these inherently human qualities, men will kill or injure another human being.” Petch maintained in his teachings. “Granted, there will be non- preventable occurrences, diseases, acts of nature and forces beyond our understanding in man’s demise, but we cannot control these forces. They are beyond our understanding. What an existence it would be if we could eliminate or even drastically reduce those negative qualities that we CAN change.”
The internet and the social networks had enabled him to reach many inexpensively and effectively. It had become a fantastic forum for change because it had allowed access to almost every human person alive, in any language. Modern computer technology had enabled the public to have a forum with interaction and thought provoking commentary. The World Wide Web had allowed for discussion of alternatives by the world’s leaders to resorting to war as a means of addressing injustice. “Man’s inability to think before he acted has been instrumental in causing many of society’s ills and problems,” Petch maintained. “War has to be avoided at all costs, before it is too late.” It was a simple and undisputed truth.
CHAPTEr 1
Some things cannot be quantified, especially when they concern the limits of a man’s greatness. Is it critical to enumerate an individual’s contributions if a positive impact on humanity, however seemingly trivial, becomes the result? Altruism was our hero’s most endearing attribute. Collective humanity, as individuals, should strive for such unselfishness regardless of the extent that it is acclaimed, documented or recognized. The measure of any man is not in how he is perceived but in how he gives.
Petch Foster was born in a New York City hospital, the unique offspring of Kate and Samuel Foster. His birth was indeed unremarkable except for one unusual occurrence that until now, in retrospect, had no major significance. The night he was born there was a celestial occurrence which very few knew about. At the Hubbell Telescope, an unrecorded star had appeared in the heavens and, for some unknown reason, had disappeared shortly afterwards. This was not unprecedented but it was far from common and it was noted by several scientists. Few others learned of the occurrence because it would never be classified as having any importance or connected to any events yet known on Earth.
Was this celestial event related to Petch Foster, the central character of this story? It could be argued, if one was so inclined to investigate the events that occurred in the past to find future meaning, that this man was The Second Coming of Christ as prophesized in the Bible. Or was such a celestial aberration simply a coincidence?
‘So also Christ died once as an offering for sins of many people; and He will come again, but not to deal again with our sins. This time he will come bringing salvation to all those who are eagerly and patiently waiting for Him.’ Hebrew 9:28
Although Petch would make some enormous contributions to mankind, was it possible that he was the one the world had anticipated? Or was he simply a man with a grand vision? There had been, throughout history, men who had made claims about being the new redeemer but Petch would neither claim to be the new Messiah nor deny it. His claim was simply that he was an advocate for peace. He also would claim to have a channel to the Almighty or whatever other nomenclature you call God, Allah, Jehovah or other Entity; the Creator of Man. Even though he was trained in Catholicism, he no longer made religious claims. His quest was only peace.
At this point in the story, it would behoove us to look at the past of this man named Petch Foster. How had this man developed and what were his parents and grandparents like? Was he a sociable human being or an outcast?
Samuel Steven Foster, Petch’s father, was born a mixture of both black and Oriental races. Often he would hear, because it was said within earshot, “That black man has Chinese eyes,” or some other combination of stereotypical insults aimed at his unique features: even though they were often incorrect in their assumptions. Samuel was part Korean and part black. The racial prejudice and the malicious mocking would eat at the marrow of his soul. He hated his ancestry and the problems it created for him. Life was hard enough without having to experience being an outsider simply because he was born a combination of two distinct races. Samuel had learned quickly that, sometimes, the world was a cruel place.
Consequently, relatively early in his life, Samuel realized that participation in sports diminished the stereotypes. His athletic prowess on the field transcended his racial heritage. Samuel also found that the athletic field was the perfect place to vent his continual frustration. In the gym, playground or field, he was rapacious and talented. He excelled at track, basketball and football. His grace, speed and desire made him the consummate athlete.
His athletic contributions were applauded by his coaches and became a means to possibly get a college scholarship. To Samuel, it appeared to be the perfect escape from Queens, NY. He figured he could go to college and maybe also have a professional career in sports.
During his junior year of high school, his football team won the intercity championship because of his running and receiving skills on the football field. Standing in front of his peers holding the intercity championship trophy had been one of the significant highlights of his life. Those in the crowd didn’t see Samuel as half black and half Korean, they saw him as a star athlete. Magically, he was not a half breed but an object of affection and respect.
The championship game, which would determine which school became the intercity high school champions, was truly a standout game for Samuel Foster. On top of running the ball as a promising tailback, he had caught the game winning touchdown in the final 30 seconds of regulation time in the game. When he had caught that final pass, his fellow teammates carried him on their shoulders. He became the MVP of his high school football team.
In track and field, Samuel had run the 440 and excelled at the hurdles. Once again, he had stood out and had made others notice. During the basketball season, he had led his team to the finals but they lost on a shot in the last ten seconds of the game.
There were high hopes for Samuel as he entered his senior year of high school. He had another season to prove himself on the football field. There was basketball and track after football was over. His football team had already had a successful year and a good record. They had already made the intercity playoffs.
This year his football team would repeat as champions! However, fate would have a say in Samuel’s future. One play would forever alter his fate.
Samuel arrived in the huddle and was to be given the ball where he would run through a hole created on the right side of the line. It was a standard, routine football play. The quarterback made a successful handoff. Samuel was off and running, seeing daylight; there was nothing that was going to stop him. As Samuel dashed to the hole in the line he was supposed to run through, a player from the other team saw his opportunity to cut down his opponent. Instead of tackling him at the waist, he flew directly at his legs sideways from the left. Samuel could hear a pop in his leg and a shooting pain in his knee area.
In an insignificant football game, which was to be the last football game he would ever participate in, this hit on his left knee made him incapable of ever being a star in sports again. His knee had been seriously damaged by the hit.
Within a period of two weeks, the college offers ceased. Just like that, his value at any college athletic program went from high to nil. His grades in school were not what made him desired by colleges, but his athletic prowess was supposed to be his ticket out of Queens. Instead of the calls from colleges all over the country who wanted him as an athlete, the phone simply stopped ringing. The letters that crammed his mailbox stopped coming.
Samuel had hoped that his exploits on the playing field would facilitate a better life for his mother and him. He had been a natural athlete; it all came so easy to him. He loved the sweat and the grittiness of competition and it all came to a screeching halt! In that final football game of his young career, as he was being carried out on a stretcher, he knew instinctively that his athletic dreams had become a thing of the past. He also knew that there wouldn’t be a college out there who would want him now. The leg that had been a vital part of his success, and necessary for any future success, was no longer useful. It was irreversibly damaged.
The rehab on his knee took months and he had to hobble around on crutches. His injury had been so severe that the doctor had expressed concerns that he might have a limp for the rest of his life. What would a black and Asian American with limited physical capabilities do for the rest of his life? The hope for a better life for him and his mother had now come to an end.
Eventually, Samuel’s knee started to show signs of improvement but those had been dark days in his life. He couldn’t help but feel that he had been cheated by destiny. No one would ever know how good he could have been. In the process of rehabbing his knee, there were many times when he felt like giving up. The adulation has stopped. Instead of enjoying his final year of high school, he dreaded it. Here was a man so full of promise who now was practically a cripple.
When high school had ended, Samuel had come to the foregone conclusion that his dreams of ever leaving Queens, New York had been forever dashed by one silly play in a meaningless football game. That summer as some of his peers and closest friends prepared to go off to college while others joined the workforce in other states or cities, he would be stuck in Queens.
Occasionally, someone would casually remind him of his exploits on the track, basketball court or on the football field simply because his exploits had become part of his legend. What they failed to realize was how painful those memories had become for Samuel.
“I remember when we beat that Staten Island football team to become intercity champions. That catch you made in the final seconds was unbelievable.”
“Wow, I was at that basketball game where you scored 40 points. There was no stopping you that day!”
Samuel didn’t need to be reminded of what he had done. He had lived it! The feeling of those glory days could never be duplicated. All the pats on the back and newspaper articles meant nothing now. When he had injured his leg, the Daily Examiner had one sentence about it! When they won the intercity championship in his junior year, they had interviewed him and asked about where he was going to commit to for college. The paper ran a full article about his exploits and what possible college he was going to! His career in sports was over and so were the opportunities and adulation that came along with it.
It was no wonder that when he graduated from high school that he started to hang around with the wrong crowd. Those people who hung out in the bars and on the streets didn’t care about his high school exploits. Gradually, he became a fixture in the local bar and often drank himself to oblivion. The alcohol masked his pain temporarily which allowed him to forget the cruel hand providence had given him.
Those years out of high school were a blurred memory and his worried mother saw him come home barely able to make it up the steps of their apartment because he was so intoxicated. She knew his psyche had been badly damaged and she was frustrated she was unable to help him with his problems.
As much as the drinking was quick at taking away some of his anxiety, Samuel discovered that it paled in comparison to heroin. That simple push of the needle into his arm made his whole body fill with a warm, fuzzy feeling and the rest of the world didn’t even exist. His first time experimenting with illicit drugs was one that he would never forget. He had been in the bar for several hours hanging out with one of his friends. As much as he didn’t want to, it was time to go home.
“Where the hell are you going?” Samuel asked with a slur from drinking shots and beer all night. He saw several guys getting ready to leave as well. He asked no one in particular.
“Ha, ha… You want to see heaven, man? You ready to go to a special place reserved for kings and the privileged few? We got just what you need,” one of them replied.
“What are you talking about? I am feeling pretty good right now, what more do I need?” Samuel asked curiously.
“Come out to the alley and we’ll show you something you’ll never forget.”
“All right buddy, let’s go. You got my curiosity,” Samuel said.
In the alley outside the bar, he watched a guy whose name he didn’t even know cook up heroin in a spoon and pull the drug into the syringe in the liquid state. “Here we go, man. This time it’s on me, next time you buy some, all right.”
Without responding, Samuel offered up his arm. His new-found friend found the vein in his arm easily and put the syringe needle into his arm. A small amount of blood entered the vial and he pushed the plunger down slowly.
Immediately Samuel felt the warmth of the drug coursing through his veins. The pain and torment that had been so prevalent in his life ceased at that moment. Nothing could harm him now! His unrealized dreams faded away and for a fleeting moment he had just caught that pass that won the intercity championship but this time it was only in his mind. His teammates were lifting him on their shoulders and the fans in the stadium were rambunctious and loud. In the next moment, he was smiling from ear to ear as he received the MVP trophy. His was a shooting star in a mystical universe.
He saw the finish line in the 440 meter race far away. There were no other runners near him because he was so far ahead. That finish line held a tape strapped across it and every sinew in his body was straining like a horse, a stallion, as he pushed himself harder and harder. That was how he saw himself, under the influence of drugs, like a stallion. He had changed from a human being to a stallion sweating and straining every muscle. The veins in his body, searching for oxygen, were pulsating with warm blood and were prominent on his beautiful body surrounded by magnificent muscle.
Immediately, his thoughts transformed to a noisy basketball court. His shot was one smooth beautiful motion, like he was moving in slow motion but everyone else was moving in real time. His legs jumped high off the floor, his gaze at the basket unfaltering, because he knew that ball would find its target. With a smooth, fluent motion his wrist and hand would release the basketball. He could see the ball start to spin and rise slowly in a beautiful arch that had the same arch as a rainbow: magnificent and so full of promise. As the ball began its descent to earth, it fell into the basket not touching anything but the net. His legs returned to the ground and there wasn’t one person in the entire gymnasium who wasn’t watching his triumph.
Heaven, pure heaven! A man, among men, whose actions prompted dramatic appreciation from the crowd. As the goal line stood ahead of him, the others were far behind chasing a ghost, a god, a mythical creature who could not be corralled. Bodies flying all around him, in battle, and he was Achilles, who no one could touch. He had been dipped in the River! An opponent would charge at him but with a simple cut, the man who stood between him and the goal line, had become ineffectual, and he would miss his target. Another touchdown!
As he walked the streets of Queens, in his hallucinations, he was larger than life. His racial features and color were no longer there! He was a giant human being in a world that seemed filled with midgets. Everyone relished seeing him and patted him on the back. There was no fear of condescension because he was a pure breed and he knew no one would speak about his racial mixture behind his back. He was truly a free man.
His legs felt weak and he sat in the alley against the wall. The drug had helped him shut out the world and its misery. He sat in that alley for what seemed like a long time, in a state between unconscious and conscious. When the drug started to wear off, he realized he was now alone. Those whom he had been with in the alley were gone.
True reality was painful but heroin was now his escape from the reality of Queens, unrealized dreams and a grim future. That feeling he had experienced that first time he had used drugs would be what he would search for forever. There was no denying that he had become someone different. He just had to have more; he knew he would always have to have more.
As much as his life had been intolerable before that fateful day, it had now become even more intolerable without smack. It was like on a rainy day when the sunshine finally peeked through the clouds and the small world of his existence was bathed in sunshine. But he knew without heroin that the world would forever be cloudy and gloomy. It seemed like the only time the sun shined in his life was when he was high.
When he came to the realization that he would always need more, he found companionship with fellow junkies. It was amazing how easily “friends” could be found and how easy drugs were to acquire. The only drawback was that it required a consistent cash flow. As time wore on he found himself needing to fix. It was a constant obsession. There wasn’t a morning now where he didn’t think about drugs as soon as he woke.
His mother, No Yung Nan, started to notice the hours that Samuel was keeping. There were days when he wouldn’t wake up until noon. At night, he was simply gone, vanished, going to places she would never know and hanging out with people she was certain were no good for him. But her frustration would not help her son. His grip on reality and life were slipping away right in front of her.
One morning she could see that she had to confront her son, as painful as it would be. She assumed that the best way for her to help him was to force him to get some kind of employment.
Samuel awoke feeling lousy, like he had for the past several weeks of his drug abuse. He constantly felt tired. The drug, he knew, was starting to take over his life. He now saw the extremes fellow addicts would go to obtain their next fix and many of them involved criminal activity. The grip of drugs would make them thieves, con artists, or beggars. As much as he needed drugs, he still had some self respect. A line had to be drawn and he was determined to not have to resort to being a thief or a beggar for money.
No Yung Nan insisted one morning that he find a job somewhere, anywhere. “I do not know what is going on with you these days but it is time you contributed to our family. Right now it is just you and me and we are just getting by. Is there something that you want to tell me?”
“Mom,” Samuel retorted, “There is nothing wrong! I just haven’t felt good these past few weeks. I am just feeling tired I guess.” He began to see how transparent his lies had become. Maybe she believed him but he doubted it. His mother, who had raised him alone for most of his life, knew her son. If he thought he could con her, then he was sadly mistaken.
Samuel , deep down in his soul, could see that she was right. His life had taken a serious wrong turn. That morning, with drugs occupying his almost every thought, he forced himself to take a shower, to get dressed, comb his hair and brush his teeth. It was painful but he had to go down to the local taxi service and ask for a job. It took every fiber of his being to appear normal when his mind was so filled with craving. He was going to have to put on the acting job of his life to talk to his potential employer.
Sweating profusely in the August heat and also because he was so strung out, he asked for a job driving a cab. The boss had known him from his playing days of football. It was probably the only reason he hired him. Something seemed amiss; Samuel seemed shaken and timid. It was unusual coming from a kid who, at one time almost a year or so previously, was confident and cocky.
“So Samuel when can you start work?” His boss asked him, biting into a meatball sub. “This is not an easy job and the hours are long. Are you still interested? I was at that game when you caught that touchdown pass to win the finals of the intercity championship. You were quite a player! Queens hasn’t seen a player like you since and probably won’t! Ha, Ha.”
Samuel despised this guy right away but knew he had to help his mother and, just as importantly, himself. He could see what he was becoming and he didn’t like it. He needed this job and, attempting to disguise his disgust at sitting in this grimy office with this lowlife, he accepted graciously. “Thanks, Mr. Franklin, I am glad you remember me. Yeah, it all was a lot of fun. I will do a good job for you.” He reached out his hand and shook Stephen Franklin’s hand. His head felt like it was ready to explode. He had to get out of there as soon as humanly possible. He felt like he was about to puke all over his desk.
“Come in Monday and I will introduce you to the other guys.” Steven Franklin was not sure. “Samuel, I know I can rely on you.” He could see a layer of sweat on Samuel’s face from perspiration even though his office was cool from the air conditioning. Something didn’t look right about this kid.
“I’ll be here at 10 AM sharp.” Samuel said heading towards the door trying to get the hell out of his office. “Bye.”
When he got outside the door, he could feel the vomit in his throat. Quickly, he ran to the bathroom door and was on his knees in front of the toilet, trying to muffle his dry heaves as much as possible. He stood at the mirror, looking at himself, and he saw a confused, tortured soul.
When he came out, he could see the look of scorn on Mr. Franklin’s secretary’s face. She had heard him vomiting in the bathroom! All he could think of saying was, “Must have been something I ate.”
Unconvinced, she continued to shuffle papers on her desk. When he entered the street, Samuel loosened his tie and headed straight to the bar where he knew he could get some junk to get high. It was a miracle that he had pulled it off and had gotten a job driving a cab.
That weekend he returned to his usual hangout and unhealthy habits. When Monday morning came, Samuel felt lousy. He was ready to do some work but was unenthusiastic. Talking to some of the other drivers, Samuel realized that he could make pretty good money driving a cab and just on tips alone he could sustain his habit while helping his mother out on his modest paycheck.
There were times where he used drugs and drove paying customers through the streets of New York. Often, he didn’t have to talk at all or very little and he simply didn’t care. Every once in a while, a customer was rude but he took it all in stride. It really didn’t matter.
One day, he picked up a beautiful auburn-haired white woman and they struck up a conversation. She seemed like a woman who had a lot going on. She carried a black leather briefcase, was dressed in a perfectly manicured but feminine suit and her perfume was subtly alluring.
Ignoring her cabbie, she studied some kind of business papers and drank coffee out of a large Styrofoam cup. She seemed like she was in a big hurry. “I have a huge presentation in an hour. Can you pull over somewhere and just stop the cab? I have been going all morning and slept very little last night. I just need to unwind for a couple of minutes.”
Samuel immediately pulled over. “Sure. We can stay here as long as you want. I must tell you that the meter will be running though. Sorry about that.”
“That’s no problem. We are close to my stop. Want to hear it, my presentation? I mean… You think you can listen as a kind of a third party and I can practice it one more time?” she asked.
Samuel was surprised, “Sure, I probably won’t know what you are talking about but I will listen to your presentation, if you want me to.”
So for a good fifteen minutes, the girl rambled on about all kinds of figures and a new dress line that her company was going to sell to the public. She talked about profit margins and used fashion jargon he had never heard before but it all seemed very interesting. She also was extremely beautiful. Besides her clothes, he noticed that she had a fantastic figure and the most beautiful lips he had ever seen. The whole time she was talking nonstop and he watched the mesmerizing curvature of her lips. Drugs had taken precedence to women these days. He had forgotten what a pleasure it had been to be in their company.
“It really sounds great!” Samuel said taken aback by his attraction to her. “Look, if you want, I’ll come by and pick you up after work and take you anywhere you want for free. I want to hear how your presentation went.”
The girl looked like she had reservations but said that she would be done around six and would wait at this exact corner. She again looked at Samuel behind the wheel and saw that he was like no one she had ever met. He seemed like a possibly interesting person she might want to get to know. His racial mixture and his muscular physique fascinated her and she had become disenfranchised with her white coworkers who were mostly gay anyway.
As she emerged onto the bustling city street, Samuel was amazed at her shapeliness. She walked away just like she had come, businesslike and serious. In the back of his mind, though, Samuel feared his “true love” would interfere. Drug abuse destroyed human relationships. Maybe he could hide his secret. After all, straight people could be fooled most of the times. He had fooled many. Hell, he had driven a cab higher than a kite and no one had ever suspected. It all was one big game anyway. He felt that he had a grip on drugs, not the other way around.
When six o’clock rolled around, Samuel was downtown and had to hurry to get to 32nd Street in Manhattan in time to pick up his fare. She got in the cab slightly upset that he was late. “I thought I told you six o’clock and you are fifteen minutes late.”
“I am sorry; I was all the way downtown. Traffic is tough this time of night.” Samuel smiled and saw that quickly the girl changed her attitude. “How did the presentation go? I have been thinking about it all day.” He had also thought about her a lot and which would ultimately become his true passion, her or heroin. After all, commitment to a relationship required him to be lucid and sober. His addiction confused him. Could he ever possibly love a woman like he loved drugs?
She smiled, “It was a big success thanks, in part, to you. Are you still on the clock? Do you have some time to get a drink or something to eat?”
“Where do you live? I have to get rid of this cab but I can meet you somewhere later. I can take you home now and I’ll meet you wherever you want.” Samuel was surprised that she had asked him out. He was starting to like this girl.
“I live on the upper West side. What about you? Where do you live?” she asked.
“I live in Queens and I have to go back to the station but I can meet you in a couple of hours,” he said.
“After all, it is Friday night and that presentation is over. I feel like celebrating. Come up to where I live around 8 and we can go out.” She gave him an address, harboring some reservations, but figured that there was little harm in it.
Samuel took the 7 train to Manhattan after parking his cab. He was finished with work for the night. She lived in a beautiful building in one of the more residential areas of Manhattan. He knew that these apartments were a far cry from the tiny two bedroom apartment he shared with his mother. He was greeted by a doorman who called her announcing his visit.
Nervously, he knocked on her door. It had been a long time since he had even a conversation with any woman besides his mother.
“Come in, “she said. “By the way I never introduced myself. I don’t even know your name. My name is Kate.”
“I am Samuel Foster. I was thinking about how mortified I would have been had you given me a fake address,” he said jokingly but genuinely serious. If she had deceived him like some women might do, he knew he would have just gone to the back alleys or the local Queens bar to look for a fix.
They went together to a bar that she knew and had a really nice time. The conversation was light and Samuel had decided beforehand that some of his secrets would be better off not discussed.
Quite suddenly, he had started a casual relationship with Kate, which was going along quite well. Samuel knew he had to make some decisions. He knew that being an addict was primarily an unaccompanied pursuit, especially with a girl like her, and that, sooner or later, she had to be told or find out about his drug habit. His arms had too many track marks to hide.
One night, when they were together sitting around her spacious and meticulously clean apartment, Samuel felt the necessity to tell her about his transgressions. He figured that it was better if he told her himself than her finding it out someday soon in the future.
“Kate,” he said, “There is something that I feel it is important to tell you. I hope you don’t hold it against me or it turns you off…” Samuel spilled his guts. He told her about his heroin addiction and his injury. In the course of the evening, he told her about the racial prejudice he had encountered in his life and how his father had left him when he was a kid.
She listened intently as he recounted his life before he had met her. Of course, he didn’t tell her everything but by the time he had explained, she had a pretty good idea what she was up against. It felt liberating, strangely enough, because Samuel had always been a quiet person and had never told a soul what he had told her.
That night as he walked home, Samuel had mixed feelings about his revelations. Had he told her too much? Was he too much for any person to handle? But deep inside, a burning desire to tell someone, anyone, how he truly felt in his soul had been fulfilled. A huge weight seemed to be lifted off of his shoulders.
Samuel felt a compulsion to use drugs that night. For once, in a long time, he had felt good about himself. But this feeling actually generated a new anxiety and insecurity about jeopardizing a great possible future with Kate. The result was a four day binge of a nonstop escape into drugs.
Often, during those terrifying days he was gone, Kate would wonder why she was attracted to Samuel. How come she was involved with someone who had a serious drug habit? They seemed to have such a strong bond yet still they had not been together sexually. She felt somewhat guilty that maybe there was more that she could have done once he had bared his soul to her.
Eventually, almost 4 days later, Samuel had knocked on her door. He knew that his mother and Kate were probably worried sick over his disappearance and was really unsure about why he had disappeared. He figured that maybe drugs would help him find some answers. The truth was that drugs only compounded his problems. Now he had to face Kate. He figured he had lost her.
“Hi, Kate,” he said, taking care not to cross the threshold of her apartment without being invited in.
The feeling of relief she felt when she did see him was proof enough that she did truly care about him. She could see that Samuel physically looked tired and unkempt. She could not find it in her heart to be angry, only concerned. “Samuel, don’t do that to me again. I was very worried about you. You didn’t call or anything.” Tears ran down her face as she reached out to hug him. “Come inside and get cleaned up.”
That night, they made passionate love and Samuel reasoned to himself that Kate was a pretty important reason to give up drugs. Kate noticed the track marks on his arms and felt them with her fingers wondering how on Earth anyone could resort to using heroin, no matter how difficult things had become. But she figured that Samuel was worth keeping. She was determined to help him but was also determined to let Samuel figure things out for himself and therefore it would be beneficial to not nag him.
Kate kept her relationship with Samuel from her strict Jewish family. She was well aware of their racial prejudices and knew that, unfortunately, they would frown on her choice of her companion. Samuel was someone who they would never imagine that their daughter would date. She envisioned sitting on her father’s lap as a child and her parent’s dreams for her. She had been raised to find a successful Jewish boy and live in the suburbs of Westchester County, N.Y. where she had been born and raised.
During her years in college in Pennsylvania, she had experimented dating Jewish boys and boys from other religions and backgrounds. She found, much to her dismay, that neither type of boy had been better nor worse. She had never contemplated that she would ever be dating a black man who had an Oriental mother. It seemed almost absurd. As daunting as his drug addiction seemed, Kate reasoned that their relationship would either blossom or die. It really only had two ways to go.
Samuel often wondered what a woman like Kate Weiss ever saw in him. She was successful and beautiful and had a charming personality. Even when he went off and used, she stuck by him. The fact that she was still around after he had disappeared and gone on a bender for four days just proved how special she was.
However, despite the problems in their relationship, they both needed each other. Although neither one of them thought anything would ever become of their union, they both realized that they were a very good pair. When they were together, they really seemed to have a great time.
When Kate accidently got pregnant, both Samuel and Kate had misgivings. First of all, the child would be part Jewish, part black and part Korean. That really was going to make things difficult on the child. Samuel had already conveyed to Kate the racial discrimination he had encountered in his life. Secondly, Kate wanted to continue on in her career. While Samuel had seemed sincere in trying to kick his addiction, would he prove to be a disappointment? Thirdly, would the child be a blessing to Kate’s parents or Samuel’s mother? Finally, was the idea of bringing any child into the tumultuous world a good idea?
No Yung Nan, Samuel’s mother, was thrilled about the child. She felt that Samuel would be a good father but still worried about his problems with drugs. She had seen evidence of his drug abuse and now knew he could be unreliable. No Yung Nan was also mildly concerned about the child’s racial mixture and knew how difficult it would be for the child with such a racial background. The world was an unforgiving and mean place for those who were different ethnically; she knew her son could attest to that.
Kate’s parents were not nearly as receptive. Once they got over the shock of Kate’s choice as the father, they tried to rationalize her decision. How could their daughter get mixed up with Samuel? Hadn’t they raised their daughter to be selective? Kate’s mother blamed herself and her father was downright angry.
“Kate,” Mr. Weiss said angrily “We raised you in the shadow of Winged Foot Country Club and your mother and I worked hard to get where we are. Throughout your entire life, I ran the dry cleaners so you would have opportunities. How many times have we discussed you settling down with a nice Jewish boy and having a family with him?”
“Samuel and I discussed all this and I think he would be a great father,” Kate said hopefully convincingly because she harbored some reservations; not about Samuel as a person but with his addiction, which could ruin their lives. Of course, she never revealed Samuel’s problem to her parents. They would really think she had gone crazy.
“What about the child? He or she is not going to have it easy being such a mixture of races. Do you think it’s fair to the child?” her mother asked.
“We have discussed that too and thought about these obstacles. The baby will be loved by both of us and we will do our best to insure that the child has a loving, happy and healthy home,” she replied.
“Think about your life with Samuel. He drives a cab. Will he be able to provide for your family? It is going to be very tough on both of you in the long run.” Kate’s father looked defeated and Kate felt badly that she had shattered his dreams for her.
“I think that if you decide to have this child that we have no choice; you will have no place for you in this family. Your mother and I can have nothing further to do with you,” Kate’s father said looking down at his shoes. Tears were falling to the carpet.
Mrs. Weiss went over to her husband and gingerly put her hand in his. The simple gesture confirmed that she had stood by his decision. Dabbing her eyes with a Kleenex, she mourned the loss of a daughter and a grandchild.
Kate turned and walked away feeling like a knife had been plunged into her heart. Her parents had disowned her. She was now on her own. The beautiful moments of having a child would never be witnessed by her parents. They had turned their backs on her!
CHAPTER 2
Until the day Petch was born, Kate and Samuel eagerly awaited the arrival of their child. They both still harbored reservations about having a child but it was too late. The racial bigotry had seemed to be easing as the world appeared to become more ethnically mixed, especially in urban New York.
It would take several years for Samuel to stop using drugs. The arrival of his son was one thing he never got to see. He wasn’t a witness to his birth. The night Petch was born, Samuel was out using drugs. Kate had been deeply hurt that Samuel wasn’t there for the birth of their son. It was indeed an apprehensive homecoming for their new baby. Kate considered leaving Samuel and raising the child on her own but considered the alternative; the child would not have a father and she would be alone in the world with a child.
Petch was a very special baby in several ways. He was naturally bright and wasn’t fussy for the most part. Samuel took care of the child during the early years of Petch’s life because Kate was becoming a rising star in fashion. Her company’s line was beginning to see significant breakthroughs in the women’s clothing market. Kate’s responsibilities began to grow as her company grew. Samuel felt very proud of her and loved being around his son. He would take him for walks on the streets and avoided his “old” crowd in the bar. His son became a substitute for drugs, in an offhand way. Samuel was determined never to use when he was in the company of his son because he was scared that he might possibly lose him or something bad might happen to him.
Kate secretly worried about Samuel because she didn’t want him using drugs when he was with their son. Besides, who knows what would happen if he started to use drugs again? Would he disappear like he had before? She knew that she had to trust Samuel.
One night, when they were together, Kate asked Samuel, “You would never use drugs around our son would you? I don’t think you would but I have to be sure. Please don’t misunderstand and I do trust you but…”
Samuel knew where she was coming form. He was a junkie who still wasn’t totally clean. Her reservations were not without warrant. Temptation was everywhere. “Kate, I know what you are trying to say. I will never use around Petch.”
At night, when he still drove the cab at times, Samuel had the freedom to indulge when his cravings got bad. Several of his friends still used but he was beginning to see that his drug use was no way to live his life. A couple of his fellow abusers had died from overdosing or had been pinched by the law and were in jail. Besides, because of drugs, he had missed the birth of his kid. Kate and Petch were too important to him. If he ever lost either one of them, he would never forgive himself.
Samuel would also always remember that his father had left when he was young. That scar was too painful. “That will never happen to my son!” This single fact alone made Samuel realize that he could live a relatively happy life without drugs. There simply were other things more important than drinking and drugs.
One night, he took his son to his mother’s house. No Yung Nan loved the baby. She could see the racial mixture of black, white and Asian and it had produced quite a beautiful child who did not display the characteristics of only one particular race but an attractive mixture of the good qualities of all three races.
Petch’s grandmother had concerns with her son in his role as a father. Samuel had been a full blown drug addict and addicts, she had learned painfully, could be unpredictable. She was in the hospital the day the child was born and had seen firsthand that Samuel had not made an appearance that night. Samuel, in an offhand way, reminded her of her husband who one night simply left and never returned.
Samuel’s father, Richard Foster, Petch’s grandfather, was a soldier in the Korean War where he met No Yung Nan, who would end up being Petch’s grandmother. Richard would be haunted in his civilian life by his memories of war in Korea. It was a rugged, hilly country and the fighting usually took place at a distance from the enemy, the North Koreans.
Sometimes, the enemy would be much closer and the fighting would be hand to hand or from close distances. In Korea, not only was the country side rugged, but it was either unbearably hot or bitterly cold. For one month, it rained almost all day every day. Richard and his comrades always wondered about their involvement in the Korean conflict and why they were in such an unforgiving place attempting to secure the freedom of people they knew so little about. But for Richard it was even more complex. Why would a black man attempt to liberate a bunch of Asians when there were so many obstacles for the black man in America?
When Richard came back to America, he not only brought himself but a young, beautiful Korean wife. His uncertainty about his future and the fact that he had no gainful employment further compounded his return. As difficult as it was being a black man in America, the relocation would have to be even tougher for a Korean woman who barely spoke English. There were Americans losing their lives for Korean freedom. Korean sentiment was at an all-time low.
But Richard managed to find a job as a construction laborer. The hours were long and the pay seemed inadequate compared to the hours of heavy duty labor that he performed. The streets of Manhattan were very cold in the winter and stiflingly hot in the summer. There was incessant noise on the job and he had an unforgiving, unrelenting boss. Despite these obstacles, Richard managed to learn a trade as a bricklayer. Harnessed in, sometimes at dizzying heights, Richard couldn’t help but be thankful at the time because he had a beautiful wife and a secure job and at least he didn’t have to worry about getting his head shot off or a mortar landing on top of him. However, there were significant similarities to his life in Korea.
Richard battled his own demons especially when it came to sleep. At night, he would have harrowing dreams of his experiences in the war. Many nights he would wake up dripping in sweat and breathing hard. His wife, No Yung Nan, would see him tossing and turning mumbling in his sleep until he woke up trembling and, sometimes, almost screaming. She would attempt to pacify his fears and wipe the sweat off his brow assuring him that he was only dreaming.
The psychologist that he went to see could do little to help his “battle fatigue” and for many years, Richard saw over and over again the same dream during his sleeping hours. An angry North Korean soldier, in his dream, was charging at him, bayonet poised to kill him. Richard had fallen down and the Korean was standing over him, ready to make the final plunge to end his life. This was usually the point where he awoke with his heart pounding in his chest.
Another haunting vision which he had sometimes in his sleep was a child in the downtown streets of Seoul wearing tattered clothes and crying but there was no one else around. The child’s face was dirty and he could have been no more than five years old. The child’s eyes were brimming with tears. Clearly, he was confused and distraught. The buildings around him were barely recognizable from the shelling. A mortar was in the air, whistling from the velocity it was travelling, heading straight towards the child. As it was ready to hit the ground and obliterate anything and anyone in its near vicinity, he awoke.
No Yung Nan had met Richard, years before, in a seedy nightclub visited by the GI’s. Even though Richard was a black man, he had an engaging smile and seemed to have a warm heart. Her English were almost nonexistent but she assisted by doing small favors for the owner and generally helped the bartender and made a meager wage. She had long given up in her quest to find her family. They had either disappeared into the countryside or were killed. In return for her long hours at the bar, she lived in a one room apartment in the basement of the building with another barmaid.