“Handy was arrested last night,” the new boy said. “He needs to go home.”
“But, I can’t really do anything,” Hunter reasoned. “I’m on the city council, I just deal with city ordinances and licenses and stuff.”
The boy chuckled. “Well, I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”
Hunter called his predecessor who laughed when he took the call. “I was wondering when I’d hear from you.” He explained to Hunter who to talk to, which police officers could be arm-twisted and which judges to look out for. When Handy was released, Hunter was actually proud of himself. Maybe this was part of helping the community. After all, there was a steady stream of funding going to the community center and he could keep an eye on Handy and try to mentor the young boy.
Things were going well. Hunter worked hard at his job. Favors for the Cobras started to come up often and Hunter figured out how to deal with them. He’d get members out of jail, ensure there would be no police stationed at specific locations at specific times, and would give them permits for big events they wanted to host. Guilt did pour through him, but he reasoned that he was helping his constituents. Right? He was more afraid of the Cobras than he was of the guilt.
Aside from his dealings with the Cobras, he became more active in the city council, proposing his own ideas for new ordinances and integrating Harlem with the rest of Manhattan. The other council members appreciated his enthusiasm, but none of Hunter’s proposals ever passed a vote.
One evening, after a particularly grueling day when Hunter had argued with the council to approve the route of a new Hip Hop Parade through Harlem, Hunter came home to see Rhonda with her arms folded on the couch. She was watching TV and immediately let Hunter know how tired she was. “You don’t appreciate how hard I work,” she said. Hunter told her that he did appreciate it. He knew it was tough raising their daughter and working toward her certification as a TSA agent. “So prove it,” Rhonda challenged him.
The next day Hunter bought Rhonda a pair of gold earrings. They were simple, nothing special, as Hunter’s bank account barely allowed for impulse purchases. They had just bought their apartment and raising a child in Manhattan wasn’t cheap, even if it was Harlem. Rhonda called the earrings “cute” and asked if any of his colleague’s wives would be caught dead wearing anything so small.
Hunter was embarrassed because she was right. His colleagues—from districts in lower Manhattan—all wore Rolex watches, had diamond cufflinks. Maybe that’s why they didn’t approve Hunter’s proposals. He needed to be more like them. So the next time he got an envelope from the Cobras he saved it. He kept saving them until he bought himself a Rolex and his wife a flashy new necklace. Rhonda was pleased with the gift and that night they made love more passionately than they had since becoming parents.
The next day, with his new watch, Hunter proposed a city ordinance to allow more food trucks to come to Harlem. The proposal passed without opposition and Hunter returned home, proud of his work. Rhonda’s spirits were still up and things seemed to be going well for him. He told himself he’d donate the next envelope from the Cobras to the community center. But then, Rhonda made a comment about a new bag she wanted and how difficult things were and so Hunter bought her the bag with the envelope and reasoned it was necessary to keep his wife happy.
One day, he was feeling particularly down. Something terrible had happened. A kid had been killed in Harlem after being caught in the crossfire of a gang fight. Hunter felt responsible. After all, many of those gang members were on the street because of him. He could have saved that kid’s life. On that day, he saw in the news that Madeline Thomas was in town speaking at a local event for the WISH List. He thought that maybe she would have advice for him. She’d been in politics much longer—did she know how to avoid corruption? Did she know how to get out of the mess he was in? He took a cab to the Langham downtown where he knew she’d be staying. He waited outside and when he saw her walking in, he followed. She went to the bar to get a drink and he did too. But when he saw her, he knew not to approach her. She treated him like a nobody. Worse than ignoring him, she gave him a look that made him feel worthless. That’s when his feelings toward her turned to anger.
On his way home he stopped at a jeweler in Midtown and bought his wife a bracelet. At least she thought he was doing a good job. Hunter continued. He started feeling worse and worse about himself, for being weak against the Cobras, for pretending to be someone he wasn’t with his colleagues in order to get ordinances passed, for being unable to please his wife without jewelry in hand.
He began thinking more and more about Madeline. How did she do it? Why did everything come easy to her? Why did he ever let her go? His thoughts about her oscillated between missing her and hating her for everything that she stood for.
When Dreads got arrested and Handy told Hunter he had to get him free, Hunter was already near the bottom. He half-heartedly talked to the judge and didn’t follow through to see if Dreads got free. Why should he? He thought, Dreads was probably guilty. He deserved jail. But when Dreads got sentenced to life in prison, Hunter
