Darkness the Color of Snow Read Online Free PDF Page A

Pete, not ‘Sarge.’ And I was a defensive lineman at a major college. This is what I’m supposed to look like. It’s my natural state.”
    â€œLSU Tigers.”
    â€œYou been studyin’. Let’s get something to eat, then head back to the office. I think you’ve got kind of a busy day. You up for that?”
    â€œYeah. I’m fine. Just some road rash.”
    â€œThat’s not the ‘fine’ I’m worried about. You watched someone die last night.”
    â€œYeah. I’m good.”
    R ONNY WAITS UNTIL the waitress has filled their coffees and taken their orders. “Can we stop at Dunkin’ Donuts for some good coffee?”
    â€œDunkin’ Donuts don’t have good coffee. We have to go to Starbucks for that. Besides, I’ve lived my life not conforming to clichés. No Dunkin’ Donuts.”
    â€œPete, how did you come to be named Mancuso?” It was not the question he had wanted to ask. He couldn’t make himself ask the real question yet.
    â€œThe usual way. The way you got to be named Forbert. It was my daddy’s name. What you want to know is how did a black man come to be a Mancuso. My daddy, a good Eastern Italian, went to Louisiana in the seventies to find work on the oil rigs. His name was Pete Mancuso, too. While he was down there, he met a genuine Creole queen who weaved a spell he would never be able to break. When the jobs ran out there, he brought the whole family back up here. And that’s how you got a fine ebony Mancuso in Lydell.”
    â€œDid your grandparents object? I mean, interracial marriage and all?”
    â€œHell, yes. But probably not the way you’re thinking. My mother was Creole, and Creole is special. Creole’s got long bloodlines and regal history. My grandfather, my momma’s daddy, was furious that she took up with some white Eyetalian Yankee polluting our fine gene pool. He turned his back on her and wouldn’t even talk to her when she announced she was getting married to Pete Mancuso.”
    â€œDid he ever talk to her?”
    â€œOne night, she and Daddy was sleeping. I was there then, too, but I don’t remember it, only the hearing of it. The doorbell rang and my daddy went downstairs, and then he came back up to bed holding a yellow envelope. A Western Union telegram for my momma. You can bet she opened that envelope with trembling hands.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œBack then, a telegram in the night could only mean bad news. Now it means that someone’s gone your bail. Anyway, my momma opened the telegram and read it. It said, ‘So, Lavinia [stop] Just how cold IS a well digger’s ass? [stop] Love Dad.’ ”
    â€œYou ever meet your grandfather?”
    â€œA ­couple times. He died before I turned ten.”
    â€œAm I going to get fired?”
    â€œProbably not. Gordy and I haven’t discussed it, but I would guess you won’t. The only thing we can figure that you did wrong was failing to call for backup, and I know that I take some of the blame for that. The one time you did, I went two feet up your ass, which was my mistake. I think you’ll be getting some time off.”
    â€œA suspension?”
    â€œLikely. A week, maybe. But maybe not. I don’t know. That’s entirely up to Gordy. He’ll discuss it with me, but he will do what he thinks is right. I would probably go to the long end of that, just to keep it in your memory, but Gordy won’t ask me. He’ll tell me.”
    â€œI really fucked up.”
    â€œYou fucked up. That’s enough.”
    â€œWhen someone gets killed, you really fucked up. I really fucked up.”
    â€œLet me go back and clarify myself here,” Pete says. “You made a mistake. Matt Laferiere and the driver of the hit-­and-­run car, they fucked up. Not you.”
    Ronny lets out a long exhalation. “I killed Matt Laferiere.”
    â€œNo. The