Son of my white hand
James Riddle was the perfect teenager. He inherited extremely good looks; tall,
muscular, tan, big green eyes, and long shaggy blonde hair. He was kind and
courteous to everyone he met, even if he didn’t know him or her. On top of all
that, he was in the top ten of his class at St. Judas Prep School in New York,
and had a dream of being a world-famous writer. He didn’t come from much, but
out of all the shining stars in St. Judas, he was definitely the brightest. He
was never one to turn down somebody in need. That said on Friday morning in the
alley of 3 Guys coffee shop, Anthony Williams needed some help with his hotel
rendezvous after the Black and White Ball with Maya Forman. James was there to
help.
Anthony Williams was a sleaze. A world-class sleaze that had a reputation of
sleeping with over one hundred women. Most didn’t know was the only reason he
got lucky, was because he would wait until a girl was completely intoxicated and
would take advantage of her vulnerability. He was captain of the rugby team, who
exceeded a GPA of 3.3 and extremely low SAT scores. Despite this, he still got
into Dartmouth, because his alumni father donated a new foreign language
building to the Ivy League school. Of course their parents didn’t know of his
three-year problem with alcohol and cocaine. Anthony went out every night to the
most exclusive clubs in New York, and came to school every day hung-over.
However, he managed to get good grades by pulling the whole “do you know who my
father is line?” James hated Anthony more than the Israelis hated the
Palestinians, but he had to tolerate him.
“Hey, Riddle, sup man?” said Anthony.
“Oh, you know just getting by.” James replied.
“So, listen, I finally convinced Maya to stay over at my dad’s suite at the
Mandarin. I’m trying to swoop if you know what I mean. I’ll give you $200 for
the goodies.”
James responded by giving him a sack of Columbian goodness, in exchange for some
splurging later at Brooks Brothers. That was the other thing; James was the
perfect kid, student of the month for five months straight. However, many people
didn’t know the mysterious side to him, except for his clients. He was one of
the top cocaine dealers in Manhattan.
James hated rich kids. He hated that they didn’t have to do shit and they could
get into any college because of who their daddy was. James was a scholarship kid
who lived in Little Italy with his single father. His gold-digging whore of a
mother left them when James was only three, taking all of the college money his
father saved for him, and running off to the South of France to get married to
some lord. Ever since his mom left him, he promised his father that he would get
really good grades and not be a low-life materialistic shmuck. Ever since
reading Jack Kerouac’s
On the Road,
James knew he wanted to be a writer. And Yale had the best writing program in
the country. He ended up getting a 3.9 GPA and a 2120 on his board scores. The
only problem was the fifty grand year tuition. His grades and scores were good
enough to get into Yale, but not enough to get him a single scholarship. He was
determined to get that money no matter what.
One day, he went to Central Park Pizza, and the manager asked if he wanted a
job. Desperate to make money, James agreed. What he later found out was his job
was to sell authentic Columbian cocaine to the wealthiest of the wealthy in New
York. It was a great deal because he only had to give Jose twelve percent of the
profits, and he finally got enough money for a four-year-tuition at Yale. Being
around trust-fund babies made him materialistic, so once he started selling he
couldn’t stop. It was like he was turning into one of those preppy lacrosse
players who only cared about money. Not only was it not enough to go to college,
but also he was brainwashed to the amount of power he had over these kids, and
when he had the money, he felt like their equal.
He had tremendous respect upon his classmates and fellow peers around the city,
that’s why they always helped him out in hiding his business from any adults.
Because if any adult found out they would tell his father, and if they told his
father James would become not only dead to him but he would go to jail for a
very long time. His father, William Riddle was one of the head Drug Enforcement
Agents in Manhattan.
The next day in Sociology class, he took his seat next to his good friend Maya
Forman, feeling on top of the world- he just sold three grams to some dumb
socialite for $2500. Turning his attention to Maya, he noticed she was much
paler and anxious than her usual bubbly, alive personality. But there she was,
dead and glum.
“Hey, Maya! Is everything okay? You look kind of depressed,” James asked
politely
“Yeah, well there’s something you need to know, James. Last night at the
Mandarin. Anthony did more than he could handle. All of a sudden, he just
started shaking and had a seizure. So I called the hospital. I haven’t heard
anything since, but he’ll be okay right?”
James froze. This never happened to any of his clients. But then again, Anthony
was a special client. He had been using coke since freshman year and before had
been buying large amounts from James all year. James knew that he was in
trouble. Anthony would either be okay and his mother would send him to rehab or
he would die. Either way there was no way in hell anyone would suspect James had
anything to do with it, since the last thing they wanted was to get their main
supplier in jail.
Later that day, when James went over to Maya’s house to work on their Sociology
project, Maya was still frigid and frazzled. Suddenly, Mrs. Forman came in with
James’ father. He never saw his father in action, but he knew he would never
suspect a thing out of his own perfect son. As far as James was concerned, he
had nothing to do with it.
“I just got a call from Eleanor Williams,” Mrs. Foxman said, tears already
dropping on her perfectly botoxed face. “Anthony O.D.’d on cocaine last night
and died at 3 am after a heart attack.” Maya started bawling. James was stunned.
Sure Anthony was a dick, but he didn’t deserve to die “There’s a…a service for
him…at the St. Jude’s chapel on Thursday all during school…It would be good for
us to send Eleanor a champagne basket, Maya…but first Agent Riddle has some
questions for you.”
“Excuse me, James and Mrs. Forman. If I
could question Ms. Forman for a while?” James and Mrs. Forman nodded. She left
to go give condolences to Eleanor, while James eavesdropped after the door shut,
just to make sure he was in the clear.
“How long have you known Anthony for?” Agent Riddle asked
“All my life, basically,” Maya responded.
“How long has he been using cocaine?”
“Since freshman year…I think. Nobody knows for sure.”
“But you’re one of his closest friends?”
“Yeah, but there’s so many secrets in this town you never know.”
“Can you describe exactly what happened Friday night?”
Maya took a deep breath, “It was after Melissa’s cocktail party. We were all
pretty trashed. So we decided to get a room with some friends at the Mandarin…”
Maya, Anthony Williams, and their two
friends Robert Bleu and Cornelia Rosenberg stumbled into a lavish hotel room
with messy hair, and untidy cocktail attire, each of them are holding a bottle
of Veuve Clicquot.
“Oh my god! I’ve never felt soooo free!” Maya screams, “I’m the queen of
Manhattan!”
“Guys, check it out! I scored the jackpot today!” Anthony called out drunkenly.
Robert and Cornelia are oblivious to the conversation, because they are making
out. “Alright, horndogs! Quit fucking each other and let’s all do a line!” The
two couple immediately separates as the four of them each do a line of cocaine.
Two hours pass, and Cornelia and Robert have fulfilled their desires and get
their own room. Leaving Maya and Anthony alone, Anthony is high as a kite four
lines later is left with sexual needs to be filled.
“Maya..” he states in the middle of his sixth line. “You look really sexy
tonight.”
“Umm.Thanks “ she says uncomfortably.
“You know,” he says seductively, breathing on her neck. “All night I was
wondering what that dress would look like off,” He speaks as his hand travels up
her thigh.
“Anthony!” She grabs his hand abruptly, “Stop! Let’s just do another line…” He
quickly and expertly does a seventh line. “Alright now, how about that dress.”
“No! I don’t think of you that way! I’ve known you since I was born!”
“What! So, you’ll fuck half the lacrosse team, and some random French guys you
met in Prague, and some ’06 seniors but you won’t even fuck me? Wow you’re such
a fuckin tease. Whore.”
Maya slaps him with all her might.
“
“ANTHONY?????????” She immediately dials 911.“IM AT THE MANDARIN ON PARK AND
FIFTH AND SOMEONE IN MY ROOM IS HAVING A SEIZURE!!!!”…
“That’s it?” Agent Riddle asked, nonchalantly.
“That’s it,” Maya responded bawling. “I can’t believe I killed him.”
“Maya, stop. You’re not responsible for his death. I think this case is closed.
I’ll take James home now.”
James opens the door, “Are we ready to go?”
The taxi ride back to Little Italy was way quieter than usual. Typically, James
would have plenty to say about his day, as well as William. They would laugh, go
into huge detail, and there was never an awkward moment between them until now
with complete silence in the back seat of the cab.
“I can’t believe that Anthony died. This will definitely be on the front page of
The New York Post.” William uttered trying to get rid of the tragic day with
some humor. Clearly, William hated Upper-Eastsiders as much as James did.
“Yeah. I bet Trump is going to come to the funeral too. It’ll be bigger than his
wedding.” James responded with knowledge
“I bet Katharine Williams had a coronary when she found out that her own
precious son was using drugs. That woman was always boasting at parent meetings
at how her son was a perfect role model who never even touched any sort of drug.
Now he’s dead of cocaine addiction.”
“Yeah,” James responded bluntly, trying to avoid the conversation.
“God, those kids and their relationships with their parents are nothing but
lies. They have them wrapped around their finger that they’re saints, but
they’re using their parents money to buy cocaine from somebody in a gang
probably.”
James snickered, William gave him a look.
“Sorry, there was something in my throat.”
“I’m so glad you’re my son. I’m so proud of you. You got incredible grades and
board scores, got into your top choice school, and on top of that you earned
your own money from your pizza job to pay for it. And on top of all that, you’re
always honest with me, and you never once got involved with drugs or any of that
sort of business.” William starts to cry.
“Dad, you’re embarrassing me.”
“I’m sorry. I just, I don’t know what I would do if you ever lied to me. I’m
just so glad you’re a good kid, a good honest kid.”
James sat back guiltily. He was crushed inside. He hated lying to his father. He
wasn’t sure if he could continue disappointing him much longer.
Maya returned from Anthony’s funeral on Thursday glum, and wanting to get the
events of the past week out of her head immediately. However, one woman would
not let that happen.
The doorbell of her penthouse rings.
“Hello?” she called, as she pressed the buzzer.
“Hello, Maya, dear. It’s Katharine. Is your mother at home?”
“No, she’s out getting a facial.”
“Is it alright if I come in anyway.”? Katharine whimpered. “I feel so alone and
I need somebody to talk to.”
“Of course, I’ll buzz you in.” Maya responds sympathetically, as she buzzes her
deceased friends mother in.
Less than a minute later, Maya opened the door for Katharine. The woman did not
look like she was crying at all. She looked rather mischievous and maleficent.
“First things first. I know you killed him. You little bitch.”
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t lie. You’re with him all the time. You’re skinny as Kate Moss. I know it
was you who pushed him to do drugs. You gave him the coke.”
“Mrs. Williams. I believe you are extremely mistaken, and distressed. Come have
a cigarette with me on my balcony?”
Katharine was an extreme nicotine addict, and having a pote on Maya’s
twelve-story penthouse balcony seemed like the thing to calm her down. When they
arrived, Katharine’s anxiety level heightened.
“Well, if it wasn’t you, who was the dealer who sold my baby cocaine?”
Maya sighed, “I can’t tell you that Katharine.”
Katharine grabbed Maya’s black cotton blouse with vigor. She was a strong woman
with sharp nails. “Listen, tramp. If you don’t tell me the dealer’s name, your
life will be over.”
“Oh really?” With one quick swoop, Katharine has Maya dangling from her
twelve-story balcony, Katarina holds onto Mayas feet just barely. “I’ll ask you
one more time! Who sold him the cocaine?”
“J-“ Maya responds as she cries for her life. “James Riddle.” She cries.
“James Riddle? Detective Riddles son? The boy who works at Central Park Pizza!”
“It’s not-“
“IT’S NOT WHAT??”
“ITS NOT A PIZZA PLACE IT’S A STOREHOUSE FOR COCCAINE! PLEASE PUT ME
DOWN!” Maya yells. In less than a second later Katharine pulls Maya back up on
her feet, with a grin on her face as if nothing happened.
“Well, we’ll have to do this again sometime.”
Back at the Riddle household, Agent Riddle noticed his son should have
been back from work an hour ago. All of a sudden, he gets a beep on his pager.
“Hello?” he answers
“Agent Riddle. We need you
immediately. There’s a drug bust at Central Park Pizza on 3rd and
Lexington.” Third and Lexington, William thinks, that’s where James works.
He hopes he’s all right as he immediately rushes out of his murky apartment.
Agent Riddle arrives at Central Park Pizza. Police cars surround the
place. Many Columbian looking men with pizza aprons are cuffed up and taken into
police cars.
“Thank god you’re here. We happened to find out the dealer who has been
selling drugs to the Washington kid.” A police officer rushed to tell him.
“Oh great. But why are you arresting these pizza men?”
“Agent Riddle. It turns out selling pizza is a cover-up for their real
business. Stored in the basement are many kilos of authentic Columbian coke.
Worst of all, the main dealer, is a high school kid.”
“Well James must know him.”
“James? You said his name was James?”
“Yes that’s my son, he’s the busboy.”
“Sir the dealer, who has been selling cocaine all this time, is the
busboy James, 6’1”, blonde hair, green eyes. A student at St. Judas Prepatory
School. And he is your son?”
“No, it can’t be. This has to be a mistake.”
“I’m sorry William, -“
William Riddle had no emotion. He was not mad, or sad, or even
disappointed in his son. He had no emotion. He couldn’t even grasp that the
whole time, James was lying. It didn’t hurt William that his son had been
selling drugs all this time. The thing that crushed William like a bug was that
his own son lied for all this time. He never thought that he would ever be lied
to again by a family member, since he found out his wife was having an affair
with a French lord and took off. Now William was alone. His wife was in a
foreign country and now his son would be in jail.
“Excuse me, gentlemen, but we here that James Riddle is at Grand Central
Station.” Another officer jumped in.
William had to find his son. Arrested or not, he would have to confront
him.
James was stupid. Too stupid to think that he could get away with it. He
knew the jig was up when Maya called crying about how she snitched to Katharine
against her own will. Now it’s his life that would be taken. If his train to the
Canada didn’t hurry up. He didn’t care about Yale, or the fact that the entire
city was looking for him. He just wanted to get out of New York City. It was
while he was waiting, that he decided to write a letter to the person he cared
about most. His father.
Dad,
I know you hate me. I’ve disappointed you, but most of all I disappointed
myself. My future is gone. My mother is gone. Soon I will be gone from
everything. Everything I’ve done was for you. I just wanted to make you proud. I
thought the sooner, I pay for my tuition, the faster, I can get to getting out
of this dangerous business. If I had known that I would be risking your trust, I
would have gone to community college. Now I’ve been caught red-white handed and
all I know is that I love you dad. Forever that’s all I’ll ever know-
Suddenly, twelve policemen come in the station at Platform 12, where James train
was stationed to arrive.
“Mr. James Riddle, you’re under arrest for distribution of illegal drugs.
We’re taking you to jail now.”
“Wait, Stop!” James recognized a voice, only to be distinguished as his
own flesh and blood.”
“Before you take him officer, may I please have a word with my son?” The
officer nods while still keeping his hands on James.
“Dad.” James starts.
“It’s you.” William trembles. “I can’t even recognize you. What… How… Why
would you do this to me?”
“It was never to you dad. I lied. I know I lied. It was all for stupid
Yale. I can’t…. I can’t imagine how stupid I was to lie, and go through all that
bullshit for nothing…Just to be caught. I never wanted to hurt you dad.”
“Too late.”
James breaks down and cries, “I know, I fucked up. I hate myself for it
and now I’m the bad guy. I killed Anthony and I never thought you would find
out. I did it cause I wanted to pay for college myself. No one would give me a
scholarship. I just… I just…” He trembled
“Just what?”
“I just wanted to make you proud.”
“James Benjamin Riddle, you never had to even go to Yale to make me
proud. I know you’re a good kid. I don’t hate you. I’m devastated that your
reputation is shot and that you’re a criminal, but you’re still my son, and I
love you no matter what.”
Four back-to-back fire shots in the distance interrupt “me love-” James
words. The shots were so perfectly aligned on his back that James immediately
fell to the floor, blood dripping everywhere. The shooter looked up, and her
curly hair revealed her to be Katrina Williams
“YOU KILLED MY SON!!!!NOW WE’RE EVEN!” she yelled before getting cuffed
up.
William rushed to his son “James!” he yelled.
“Daa.” James murmured, “I’m soo-“ James last incomplete words were
listened by the ears of his father, as he watched his own sons’ eyes roll in the
back of his head, and his life went to a stop.
That was it. Everything he ever loved was gone. It was covered in blood,
his head held up in his pale white hand, as William buried his face in his sons
still chest. At his side was a piece of paper covered in blood, the only words
visible were all I know is that I love
you dad. Forever.” That was all William would ever know to.
As he brushed James’ messy blonde tendrils out of his forehead, he kissed
him tenderly on the bridge of his nose. The last hour, he was shocked about his
sons’ identity, but not only that in the past minute, he wouldn’t care if he
dealt, as long as he could hear James heart beat in time with his.