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Confessions of a White Devil--Part I

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Allan Wayne
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"I captured", he counted on his fingers, "Twenty million of my own people, my children, if you will, and delivered them to you. At least sold them from the shores of my homeland. Actually not many to the United States. Only five percent went there: 500,000. Percentage-wise, you ain't even a player. Most went to Brazil, five million; then 95,000 to Peru, and 200,000 to Mexico, not bad. Don't leave out the Caribbean-it's pretty exotic; islands like Jamaica, Trinidad, Barbados. Chains around their necks, shackles, whips, whatever. Hell, some of them we put rings in their noses. Soon, we learned rope was cheaper. It's the bottom line, you know. Oh, we hung some on the way, the uppity ones; you know what I mean."

"You're from Africa?" His skin was the darkest I ever saw

"Born and bled. In fact, purebred. I started this trade a thousand years ago."

"It's still not right," I said.

"Exactly," he chuckled. "Not even in 1800, when three-quarters of all people were trapped in bondage, in some form of slavery or serfdom. Them kings didn't care. It was pretty much the status quo."

"Where did you hear that?"

"Wikipedia, wiccan, wicked, whatever," he spat. "What else you want to know?"

"You're the black devil, huh?" I folded my hands. "Trying to steal my thunder!"

It was getting dark. I heard a peal in the distance. He leaned back and fell silent. Probably contemplating his opening move. Either that or trying to one-up me on devilry. But I knew he could not match the depravity of my forefathers. I had enough white devil dirt on my fingernails to scratch out the lamp lights of hell. We would go down together. But there was only room for one Devil.

(To Be Continued)

(Article changed on August 15, 2019 at 06:24)

(Article changed on August 15, 2019 at 06:27)

(Article changed on August 15, 2019 at 06:29)

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Conceived on west coast, born on east coast, returned to northwest spawning grounds. Never far from water.


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