Billionaire

By Dorothy Alease Phillips

When 15-year-old DeEtta Billings, as an omen for success, gave the very strange name Billionaire Boss Billings to her infant son, she did not foresee the effect the name would have upon his future. In the first grade, the very industrious boy began a business that allowed him to enti

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rustik Haws LLC
• Release date: Jun 29, 2020
• ISBN: 9781649340948

Dorothy Alease Phillips

Dorothy Alease Phillips, a former high school teacher, taught English and journalism for over 22 years. She was married to the late Dr. Chester Phillips, a Baptist minister, and aided in his ministry for over 40 years. As a teacher, minister’s wife, and mother of three children, Phillips has geared her writings to various age groups in short stories, teen novels, romance novels, plays, and free-lance nonfiction. She attends writers’ conferences to hone her craft and to fellowship with other authors. Phillips earned a B. S. degree from Bob Jones University in Greenville, South Carolina, and a Master’s degree from East Carolina University in Greenville, North Carolina. Now residing in North Augusta, South Carolina, she still drives, takes exercise three times a week with Silver Sneakers, attends church services regularly, leads an active social life, and writes for publication. She considers herself blessed.

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Billionaire

DOROTHY PHILLIPS

Billionaire by Dorothy Phillips

This book is written to provide information and motivation to readers. It’s purpose is not to render any type of psychological, legal, or professional advice of any kind. The content is the sole opinion and expression of the author, and not necessarily that of the publisher.

Copyright © 2020 by Dorothy Phillips

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, or distributed in any form by any means, including, but not limited to, recording, photocopying, or taking screenshots of parts of the book, without prior written permission from the author or the publisher. Brief quotations for noncommercial purposes, such as book reviews, permitted by Fair Use of the U.S. Copyright Law, are allowed without written permissions, as long as such quotations do not cause damage to the book’s commercial value. For permissions, write to the publisher, whose address is stated below.

ISBN: 978-1-952617-40-9 (Paperback)

ISBN: 978-1-952617-41-6 (Hardback)

ISBN: 978-1-64934-094-8 (eBook)

Printed in the United States of America.

Rustik Haws LLC

100 S. Ashley Drive, Suite 600

Tampa, FL 33602

https://www.rustikhaws.com/

Manuscript edited by Dr. Jonah Amodu

Everlasting Foundation Ministries International

P.O. Box 1105, Zaria, Kaduna State, Nigeria.

E-mail: [e-mail]

Phone: [phone]

Dedication

Since I am almost 96 years old, I know Billionaire may be the last book I shall write. I wish to dedicate this book to my two sons, Dean Hayward Phillips and Kent Vincent Phillips. Both sons have brought me joy and happiness from their births until now.

As Christian gentlemen, they have brought up good, Christian families, established respectable businesses, and blessed my life with the addition of wives, Marilyn and Marianne, who have been true daughters to me; seven perfect grandchildren; and 14 wonderful great grandchildren.

Both sons have showered my life with blessings; and now, may the Lord shower their lives with even greater blessings.

Contents

Dedication

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 2

CHAPTER 3

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER 9

CHAPTER 10

CHAPTER 11

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CHAPTER 26

CHAPTER 27

CHAPTER 28

CHAPTER 29

CHAPTER 30

CHAPTER 31

CHAPTER 32

CHAPTER 33

CHAPTER 34

CHAPTER 35

CHAPTER 36

CHAPTER 37

CHAPTER 38

CHAPTER 39

CHAPTER 40

CHAPTER 41

CHAPTER 42

CHAPTER 43

CHAPTER 44

CHAPTER 45

CHAPTER 46

CHAPTER 47

CHAPTER 48

CHAPTER 49

CHAPTER 50

CHAPTER 51

CHAPTER 52

CHAPTER 53

CHAPTER 1

Dr. Dell Loftis smiled down upon the drenched, tired little mother as she cuddled her newborn in her arms. It had been a long ten-hour labor for one so very small. He knew the history of this young lady and felt sorry for her. She had run away from home when only 13 and had married a young man, 18. Now two years later, she had given birth to a second child. Dr. Loftis had delivered both babies and had found a special place in his heart for DeEtta Shica Billings.

DeEtta, the doctor said softly as he read the birth certificate, surely, you are not really going to name this little fellow Billionaire Boss Billings, are you?

Lifting her eyes from her new joy, she said, I certainly am, Dr. Loftis.

The doctor pulled a chair close to the bed and said, DeEtta, surely you must know this name is a very unusual name. In all my years, I’ve never heard of a child being named Billionaire. Don’t you think this little fellow will get a lot of kidding when he goes to school? Now, tell me, young lady, why are you giving this handsome boy such a strange name?

DeEtta pushed herself to an upright position before answering, Well, I tell you, Dr. Loftis, I come from a long line of poor folks. No one in my family’s whole, long history has ever been a billionaire. Now, I’m going to present one. Oh yes, and did you notice his middle name? It’s Boss, and we ain’t ever been the boss. I’m giving my son two special blessings. Yes, Sir, this is Billionaire Boss Billings. This child’s going to be someone really great someday. I know.

The doctor rose and patted the young girl’s hand. I hope you’re right, Little Lady. I really hope you’re right.

DeEtta grinned. You can count on it, Sir. I feel it in my heart. I’ve got a real billionaire right here in my arms. She hugged her baby close.

Dr. Loftis glanced at recorded information: 5lbs. 2 oz.; 18 in. long. If he had been 21 inches with a lot more weight, I might sanction your hope, he thought. He could become a star athlete, but the fact that your little guy is quite small makes the odds against him. If, only, you could have carried him a little longer.

He made a slight bow and said, All I know is that he has a very sweet mother and he’s really a good-looking baby. God bless you both. Smiling, he left the room.

The young mother beamed, See. The good doctor said you are good looking, and he asked God’s blessing upon you. Billionaire Boss Billings, you are going to be great, I know.

The baby squirmed and made a loud, verbal sound. DeEtta always declared he said, Amen.

The doctor stepped into his office and glanced at the afternoon’s appointments before telling his nurse, I’m going to Sally’s Country Cooking for coffee and cake. I’ll be sitting on the porch with Mr. Hugo Hansen afterwards. He held up his cell phone. Call me when Mrs. Meadows shows up.

Smiling, his nurse said, Will do and gestured for him to leave. She knew the routine the doctor and Mr. Hugo Hansen had. Weather permitting, the two, middle-aged men sat on the restaurant’s front porch after dessert and chatted until one of the them was paged. Both men held respectable positions and knew everyone in their small city by a first name or nickname.

Doctor Loftis had gone much further. He had a file for every baby he had delivered in the ten years he had served in Heartsville. His wife dutifully kept each file up to date with pertinent information like when shots were given, when each child entered school, what diseases each had suffered, and records of school plays, grades, and honors. She included programs of events the doctor often attended to honor a child.

Mr. Hugo Hansen, though no one would guess it by looking at him or talking with him, was notably the richest man in South Carolina. He was so very amiable and unassuming that only a few knew the vastness of his wealth. Of course, almost all merchants and professional men in their small town of 8,000 people were aware Mr. Hansen owned most of the buildings that lined Main Street. Either they were renting from him or were in the process of buying their property.

Seated in a rocking chair, Doctor Loftis said, That little Billings girl had her baby at 11:00 this morning. The poor little thing suffered a long, hard labor this time; however, I’m happy to report: she and the baby are now fine.

Hugo stopped his rocker. Where’s that husband of hers? I haven’t seen him for several weeks. What kind of man leaves his wife at a time like this? Is he a scoundrel?

Oh, no, the doctor was quick to say. Joshua Billings is a good enough kid. He just had to go to a bigger town to find work. He sends her every penny he can earn and comes home as often as possible.

I didn’t know that, Mr. Hansen said. Already his mind was racing to see it there was an opening somewhere nearby in one of his surrounding enterprises. Tell me about Joshua Billings, he said. How much education does he have?

"I’m not sure. I’ll check it out. Think you might have somewhere to place him?

Might have. Get me some information as soon as possible.

Doctor Loftis stood. Say, how would you like to ride over to the hospital with me and get a look at a newborn billionaire?

Ten minutes later they stood looking down at little Billionaire Boss Billings. Hugo’s brow furrowed. By Jove, Doc, you were right when you said this a is a pretty baby. I think he’s the prettiest newborn I’m ever seen.

Yes, and his little mother declares he’s going to be just as brilliant as he is handsome.

Look at that little fellow squirm. I do believe DeEtta is right again. Look at him. He’s ready to get up and tackle the world right now.

Then began, between the two professional men, amusing and strange comments that began in the hospital and lasted periodically for the next four years. From that first day, the two men had stood outside the baby-display window and talked about their prodigy. Both put a claim on the infant’s route to glory with Hugo Hansen declaring that someday he was going to send this kid to Harvard University. Dr. Loftis opted for Duke.

When Sally set up a nursery in one of the restaurant’s storage rooms, both men bought furniture and stocked everything that was needed. Whatever meal they ate together was followed by a trip to look in on Billionaire.

Dr. Loftis and Hugo Hansen, however, were not the only ones who took interest in the little Billings boy. Various diners asked to see him so often that Sally finally decided to bring Baby Billionaire into the dining room and place him near the fireplace. Daily, customers stopped to talk with the little one, never in baby talk but in the mature tone set by their two professional friends.

Say, Doc, Hugo said one day, don’t you think it’s a bit uncanny the way our little guy gives everyone talking to him his rapt attention?

Yes, I had noted that. He looks directly at the person speaking.

Maybe, he’s going to be a psychiatrist.

Or a judge….

Or a high school principal.

Or a hen-pecked husband.

They both laughed and might have kept up their foolish bantering had not DeEtta come through the swinging doors, saying, Nap time. Nap time, and whisked the baby away.

Little Billionaire Boss Billings basked under the adoration of all regular restaurant diners; but, overall, Dr. Dell Loftis and Hugo Hansen continued to give the little guy the most attention. They saw that he never needed anything; and when no one else was around, the two men debated about Billionaire’s future

Doc, I’ve told you a hundred times this kid is going to Harvard someday. I’m going to pay his way. I have already stipulated that in my will.

I’ll contest that will, Dr. Loftis said. Look at his long fingers. He’s destined to be a doctor. He will make a grand surgeon. Yes, sir. Yes sir, and I want him to be trained at Duke University.

Perhaps, Billionaire had heard these two, joking voices so many times that he responded to their tones, for he wiggled and laughed each time they hovered over him discussing his future.

Both men claimed to be the first to get the ten-month old to walk. Parents DeEtta and Joshua Billings grinned but said nothing. They knew their baby had tottered back and forth to the two of them one week before the two competitive adults saw him take a step.

Because the two men usually ate lunch at Sally’s, they often talked with Billionaire, read him stories, and even sang to him when no one was near Thus, the first five years of Billionaire’s life sped by under the scrutiny of two, caring men who had never been blessed to have a son.

When people noted how advanced, for his age, Billionaire seemed to be, someone was always quick to explain that Dr. Loftis and Hugo Hansen could be credited with a lot of the child’s achievements. The little boy read when he was five and loved anything that pertained to math. He liked talking with grownups. Seemingly, he liked being challenged.

One day Hugo was watching Billionaire respond correctly to a math question the cashier had asked. That kid is smart, smart, smart, he muttered when he heard the answer. I can’t understand why he knows so much about so many things.

I’m not sure about all the things he knows, but I do know why he’s a whiz with math., the doctor said. "I meant to tell you. You asked me once after you had questioned him about some arithmetic problems, but we both got paged before I could tell you.

I remember asking that question, Mr. Hansen said. I had spent an hour sitting at a table with a lot of money, mostly quarters, dimes, nickels, and pennies spread out. I tried my best to trick him with combinations of different coins. He could add in his head and give me the right answer every time.

Let me tell you why he can do that. This is what DeEtta explained it to me. You see, Billionaire and his dad had a game they played. DeEtta would hear one of them say, Let’s play Money, and she knew they would be occupied for an hour or two. By moving pennies around in various groupings, Josh Billings taught that little preschooler to add and subtract. By the time Billionaire entered the first grade, he already had learned the multiplication tables up through six."

Billionaire, his dad had said. I’m going to have to get a lot more pennies if we are going to finish the multiplication tables. I must say, ‘You’re one smart kid."

Josh Billings was right. His little son was smart. Smart and industrious. When in the first grade, Billionaire approached Dr. Loftis and Mr. Hugo as they sat on the porch and said, Sirs, could I interest you in letting me polish your shoes? You two are very important, and important men always keep their shoes polished. I learned that from the magazines in the barber shop. Now, I would like for you to tell me the color of shoes you will be wearing tomorrow, and I’ll bring my stuff to give you a good shine. The first shine will be free.

Mr. Hansen said, After that first shine, how much will you be charging us for a shine in the future?

Well, I’ve been thinking about that, Mr. Hansen, and I would like for you to help me know what to charge. I’ve bought a can of black and a can of brown polish and that cost me $2.07.

Mr. Hansen took out a little notebook from his coat and pretended to be figuring something. Let’s see. You have invested $2.07 of your money and I would guess you’ll be able to shine at least 30 pairs of shoes with each can of polish. I think maybe you should charge at least 50 cents for a shine so that you can get back what you have paid and still make a profit. He turned to the doctor who was covering a grin behind his newspaper. What do you think, Doc?

What do I think? Oh, I think he might go a little higher.

You may be right. You and I would be glad to pay more, but since he’s starting a business, don’t you think he will want to consider what other people will be willing to pay? Or, do you think he can charge some people more than he charges others?

Billionaire cut in, Oh no, Sir, if you don’t mind, I want to charge everyone the same amount. Let’s let it be 50 cents for everybody.

Mr. Hansen extended his hand. Then that settles it. Tomorrow I will wear my black loafers and I’ll be your first customer. If you do a good job, I’ll recommend you to all my friends.

Doctor Loftis said, Son, I would like to be your second customer. I’ll wear black shoes, too; but I suppose you should also bring the brown. Someone with brown shoes might want a shine.

Beaming, the six-year-old shook hands with both men and hurried away to find some rags for shinning and something upon which he could prop feet. He had begun his first enterprise.

CHAPTER 2

The first five years of Billionaire Boss Billings’ life had flown by quickly. His father still worked away from home on week days but came home each weekend the first year. Things had become better after he landed a job with Mr. Hansen. The young father adored his little son and always spent as much time with him as he could. DeEtta had worked at Sally’s Country Cooking Restaurant since Billionaire was two months old. Sally, the owner of the restaurant, allowed DeEtta to bring her baby to work with her each day and placed a nice play pen for him in the back, office space. DeEtta’s mother kept DeEtta’s older child, two-year-old Henrietta. With this setup, which provided free meals, and with Joshua’s weekly contribution, the young couple survived.

One special plus came with DeEtta’s after-lunch break. Each time the weather was suitable, she took little Billionaire to sit on the front porch. She, especially, loved this break when the Dr. Loftis and Mr. Hansen were there. She carefully took a seat away from them, but in earshot. She pretended she wasn’t paying attention, but she loved their discussions. Her schooling had been cut short by her own, early marital decision, she knew, but she longed to learn. She wished she could go back to school.

Sometimes, when one of the men was summoned to work, the other man spoke to her and moved close by. She was enjoying one of those special days, talking with Dr. Loftis.

She traced her finger over Billionaire’s arm and leg and then across her arm. Dr. Loftis, she said. Look at this. Billionaire and I are not black. We’re not brown. I guess you would say we’re beige. What do you think?

Dr. Loftis looked at their skin and said, You’re right, DeEtta. I’ve never heard the term ‘beige’ but I believe you have thought of a very descriptive adjective.

DeEtta eyes twinkled as she said, You know, Dr. Loftis, you and Mr. Hansen are white, but you’re not really white. I do believe; however, you are closer to white than he is. You have light hair, light blue eyes, and light skin. On the other hand, Mr. Hansen has dark hair, dark blue eyes, and his skin looks as though he keeps a dark tan all year long. She looked thoughtful for a few moments before she said, Now, don’t you think our Lord is wonderful to think up all those different skin colors and hair and eye colors?"

Dr. Loftis laughed at the young black woman’s thinking. You’re such a smart little lady, my dear. I’m glad you’re my friend.

I have been your friend for a long time, haven’t I; but, Dr. Loftis, there’s something I never told you. Would you like to hear why me and my Billionaire are this beige color?

Why, yes. If you know why you have such beautiful skin, I would like to know.

DeEtta turned her chair so that she could look into the doctor’s eyes. "What I’m going to tell you is my family’s secret.

The doctor raised his eyebrows. A secret. I like secrets.

DeEtta rolled her eyes as though checking their privacy. Well, Dr. Loftis, my grandma was a very black woman, but she married a very white man. Before he could make a comment, she said, Would you like to know why my very black grandma and my very white grandpa married?

Well, yes, if you want to tell me.

You need to know this happened way back in the 1970’s. Pressure was being put on integration, and my grandma’s black school was being closed and all the colored (they called us colored back then) yes, their colored school was being closed and all the colored children were being sent to the white school.

Oh, yes, the doctor said. I do remember when that was happening. The government thought that would be best for all Americans.

Maybe they were right, but my poor little grandma was scared to death. She begged her parents to let her quit school. She was in the sixth grade, and she was tiny just like me. She cried and cried, but her parents wanted her to finish high school. Her daddy missed work that first day just to walk his little girl to that white school. Grandma said the daddy was as scared as she was.

She had the doctor’s rapt attention. What happened when she got to school?

"Well, there was someone there to check her name and to get her to the right classroom. Her daddy was not allowed to go inside the school. He kissed her goodbye and whispered he would be praying for her. She was trembling and wiping away tears when she entered the room.

She sat where the teacher told her to sit and put her head down on the desk. A white boy sitting across from her put his head down on his desk and said, Don’t be afraid, little girl. You will be all right. I’ll take care of you. And that’s the way it started. His name was Trent Rogers; and true to his word, he took care of my grandma. But, of course, she wasn’t my grandma then. She was only 12 years old.

Dr. Loftis glanced at his watch, reminding himself of the next appointment. He thought he might pursue one more question. DeEtta, I may have to leave, but I do want to know. Did your grandmother finish high school?

"Yes, sir, she did; and would you believe she was on the home-coming court her senior year. And, I bet you’ve guessed, Right Receiver Trent Rogers had chosen her to walk with him.

The cell phone rang. Dr. Loftis listened and answered, I’ll be right there.

He bent down and kissed DeEtta’s head. Thank you, my dear little beige friend, for that beautiful story. I’ll ask you to finish it the next time we sit together. Bye, Child.

CHAPTER 3

Dr. Loftis and Hugo Hansen sat at the window table nearest the fireplace, watching the first fall snow of the season. Sally’s Country Cooking Restaurant was filled with laughter. Dr. Loftis pointed to the hearth. Look at that little Billings boy. He is forever doing something helpful. He keeps the fire going, brings in wood, picks up trash, waits on people, and stays busy all the time.

How old is ‘our’ kid now? Mr. Hansen asked.

"You should know as well as I do. He’s six. He’s in the first grade.

I know. Do you remember what he said to me last year?

Yes, I remember, but tell me again. I like how you remember his exact wording.

Well, that five-year old kid walked up to me when I was alone on the porch, and said, ‘Sir, are you Billionaire Hugo Hansen?’ I looked around to see if anyone had heard what he said. You know, I don’t like for people to think of me in terms of money said, ‘Well, Son, I guess you could call me that.’

He stuck out his hand and said, ‘I’m glad to meet you, Sir. I’m Billionaire Boss Billings’

The two men laughed. That conversation had amused them for months.

Mr. Hansen continued, The reason I asked about him today is because of something he did yesterday. After you went back to your office, he came over to my table. When I said, ‘Hello, Billy Boy,’ as we have always called him because his mother calls him that. Well, he stiffened his back and said, ‘Sir, that’s what I want to talk about if you have time.’ I glanced at my watch and said, ‘I have a few minutes. Sit with me and tell me what you want to talk about.’

Well, Sir,’ he said, you know I’m now going to school, and I’m having a problem with my name. When the teacher calls out my full name, Billionaire Boss Billings, the students laugh; and when somebody calls me what my mother has always called me – you know, her Billy Boy stuff, they laugh at that, too. When the teacher cannot hear, they tease me all day. I have to do something about my name, and I thought you might help me."

Mr. Hansen paused, I tell you, Doc, I felt sorry for the kid.

I understand. I was afraid that would happen. In the hospital, I tried to get DeEtta to change his name, but she was adamant. She wanted her baby to be named Billionaire and even added Boss. Tell me. Did you and Billionaire come up with a solution?

Well, yes. I think we did. I mused over his full name and made a suggestion. I told him that many males went by their initials instead of their name. I had known W.G. Holliman and M. V. Smith, and R.R. Rogers. I asked how he would like to be called B. B. Billings, and he instantly liked that idea. He said a few times, ‘B.B. Billings and BBB,’ and then said, ‘That’s it! Now, tell me how to get my name changed in school.’

What did you suggest for that?

I told him to go to see his principal and his teachers privately and to make the request. As you might guess, he did so the very next day, and they understood. I’m telling you ahead of time, for I’m sure he is going to be asking you to call him by his new name.

The doctor noted time on his cell phone and stood. Just one more thing, he said, "how did his mother like his changing his name?’

Well, that’s one problem not yet solved. He hasn’t told her yet. He had never told her about the teasing because he didn’t want to hurt her feelings.

Don’t worry, the doctor said, putting down a generous tip. I’ll talk with DeEtta and try to help her understand. She loves that kid so much that I don’t think it will take much explaining.

For the next two weeks, Mr. Hansen and Dr. Loftis propped their feet upon a cinder block and received super shoeshines. Often two or three young boys stood by and watched the procedure. When the men left, these boys gathered and asked B.B. Billings about his methods. After B.B. had explained each thing he did, he said, Would you like to work for me? I know good places I could station you and I believe you would have a quite a few customers. Guys, you’ll always have some money in your pockets. He jingled some coins in his pocket for emphasis, and in the next few moments hired his first two Executives (as he was later to call all who worked in his organization).

CHAPTER 4

After almost perfect Thanksgiving weather, suddenly an icy coldness settled upon the little town of Hartsville, bringing with it the worst flu epidemic the town had ever known. Schools had to be closed and city officials encouraged people to stay in their homes unless it was absolutely necessary to be outside. The hospital was filled. Almost