bred in the South. He then had all of his children go to speech coaches to rid us of a dialect that we heard day in, day out. It was like trying to teach a bird to not chirp. How ridiculous. How self-hating. He associated it with being unrefined, and he always wanted to compete against other men – outdo them.
As I grew older, I began to rebel. I was sick and tired of it all. I began to stand up to my father, and I couldn’t back down any longer, even if I’d wanted to. I was now taller than him. Bigger than him. Smart than him. Uglier on the inside, just like him. It simply wasn’t in my personality to tolerate his abuse a second longer. I later discovered that he, too, had stood up to his father. Funny how the very one we hate, we become. I wasn’t afraid of him anymore, and I believe this frightened him. Unlike my brother, I no longer cowered in his presence. My father fed off fear, so now, some of his supply had been removed from the banquet table. I was no longer serving his favorite dish.
Nothing in particular had occurred to cause me to see that demon of a man for what he was. I just did. It was truly as if I woke up one morning and saw the mouse removing its lion costume, then scurrying off into a hole in the wall when the lady of the house reached for her broom. At that point, I knew I never wanted children and I hated my father with every fiber of my being. I wished he were dead, so much that during his funeral several years ago, I was delighted, and had to step out of the parlor, away from family and friends, to laugh. When he’d become terminally ill, I celebrated and even had a party. No one knew the reason behind the celebration, but they all came to my house, all the same, to drink and be merry. I had been hiding my hatred for my father for a long time. For my entire life.
I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. That was how you feed the beast. They love it when you despise them. He should have never gotten married. He should have never had children. He created monsters. I am one of those monsters, only I am aware now of my deeds and the motivations behind my actions. I had decided, my trinkets, possessions, properties and land would be my children. They were beautiful. I designed, built, and raised them. I started my construction company, but with my background in architecture, I was involved in many successful projects in Atlanta and all over Georgia.
I made a name for myself, and took pride in the properties I purchased. There was a reason behind each of them, but as they say, we can’t take it with us. I knew I was going to die. Sooner rather than later. It was time to get my affairs in order and say goodbye to my properties and the son I never knew.
I want him to visit each property and truly look at them. These letters will help Aries walk where I walked, to be in the midst of people and places that I enjoyed. It is the best way to teach him who I am, for showing is far better than explaining. Aries, too, is my child, and I protected him by ensuring that I never poisoned him like my father poisoned me.
I am convinced, I would have been just like my father towards him, no matter how I tried to not be. Maybe even worse due to the initial resentment at my learning of his existence. There is something in our blood, in the genes, that causes the Creed men to take great delight in controlling and destroying others, especially those we love. Therefore, I focused on giving love to inanimate objects, places and things. They don’t cry. They don’t hurt and wail. I poisoned Sandra. I poisoned my ex-wives. I would be damned if I’d poison Aries, too. This bookstore is magical and odd. It is inside of a building that I covet. One rich with old world beauty and history. It is haunted with the kisses of spirits gone by. It is run by a young, attractive, quite intelligent Black woman with a kind heart and soul. Her name is Lauren McKinney.