"End Of The Circle

By Namref H. Tims

Warning: There is a lot of PAIN in this book. This was first pointed out to me many years ago by a "Vanity" publisher. Reflecting on this today, I realize that he was absolutely correct.
Yet there is also a bit of humor within these pages.
But more importantly, what was my motivation for writing this novel?
Initially, I began this novel as an extension of a diary I kept when I suffered with "Night Terror" sleep disorder. However, the sleep disorder was closely associated with my journey to find my biological father. My father had been hospitalized for mental illness for over half his life. When I went to visit my father in a state hospital, it had been 21 years since I last saw him.
My father died of a heart attack, six months after my visit. I was the last person of my family and the siblings of his own immediate family to visit him. About two years after my father's death, I began to suffer with "Night Terror" sleep disorder. This lasted for five years. The sleep disorder had a devastating impact on my life. At one point, I did not feel that I would survive it --I felt certain a nervous breakdown was eminent. I kept the diary to keep my thoughts as objective as possible. I sought counseling at the VA hospital. I had two sessions with a white female Ph.d psychologist named Susan (Geometric figure-- her last name is synonymous with a well-known geometric figure). For some reason after my second session, Susan transferred me to a colleague-- a white male with a master's degree in either Sociology or Psychology. I inquired about the change. He told me "off the record", that Susan had made some very uncomplimentary statements about me. He would not give me specifics of what she said-- apparently, he did not agree with Susan--At least that was the impression.
Through the Freedom of Information Act, I got a copy of the comments of our two sessions. What immediately stood out was this: Susan stated I had a "dependent personality". However, there was nothing in the comments to support how she came to this conclusion. I recalled the last session: I asked Susan whether she believed in God. Somehow Susan seemed a bit perturbed with this question. Yet she did calmly answer: Very well then, I believe in a "force: She did not elaborate further.
So, I wondered whether Susan believed I was "dependent" on God-- Or perhaps was Susan also including herself, in view of the fact, I was coming to her for therapy and counseling-- thereby dependent on her as well.

Susan's statement to me which, seemed unwarranted and perhaps even racist, did actually make me reflect. We as humans, are all to some degree, dependent on each other.

One of the main characters in my novel is a female, white PhD psychologist. In a sense she is the anti- Susan. She actually gives a damn about her patients. I do not know where the "real" Susan is today-- alive or dead. If alive, she probably does not even recall me as one of her patients.

Susan's statement prompted me to observe: We as humans, are all to some degree dependent on each other. Some people more so than others. Globally, The U.S. has world debt that exceeds trillions of dollars. In some sense or another, we as humans are connected in our destinies. What do they tell doctors in medical school? "Do no harm"?

Teachers, doctors, Ph.D. psychologists can do a lot of good-- they can also do a lot of harm.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Namref H. Tims
• Release date: Feb 24, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005097530

Namref H. Tims

Namref H. Tims email : [e-mail] am I?.A creative spirit.Depends on your perspective.For one I was a sorry " S.O.B,"Another compared me to Jesus.One called me "Cretin" ( Female National Merit Semi- Finalist)Another beheld "pure genius". ( Different Female National Merit Semi-Finalist)I am athletic yet clumsy.Am sensitive yet at times mindless.Truth : I am all that is enlisted .Have a degree in Accounting, although I never worked a day as one. I served in the US Army Security Agency for four years as a Morse Code Interceptor. I have worked for the U.S. Postal Service and also a major refinery.Met and verbally sparred with Muhammad Ali.Competed in the 100 yard dash against the co-holder of the world record. Ran the 40 yard dash in 4 seconds flat.Competed for a short while in world long drive competition. When I saw the disparity of pay between Open division and Senior Division ( $135,000 for first place Open division and $9800 Senior Div.) I retired even though I was hitting balls on the driving range (with limited flight golf balls) farther than the best in the world in my age group.Sent an email to harass Marilyn vos Savant that my IQ was higher than hers. In her column she tells you : " Use the highest score ". My highest score was 235. For the story on that you will have to read my upcoming book, "Extraordinary Performances In Sports And LIfe-- The Numbers That Influence Them".In 1972 I experimented and achieved success with Telekinesis. Later In 1972 I abandoned pursuit of these abilities.In 2014 I resumed experimenting with paranormal abilities. Mainly because, I read about the James Randi org, which offered a 1 million dollar prize to someone who could demonstrate these abilities exist.As of 2015 this prize no longer exists.Sporadically now I practice paranormal abilities, since there is no longer a substantial prize incentive. My objective : If I can use them to heal people, I will put them to great service.I have beaten and drawn top rated computer chess programs at blitz chess-- Famed Grand Master Lev Alburt told me this was IMPOSSIBLE for an amateur player of less strength than a super GM rated 2650 Elo.World Infamous "Woe- Class" Psychic Maria Duval told me : " You Are Sent By The Supreme Forces Of The Universe..."I write mostly for fulfillment not edification.Most writers don't make much money. This so far, holds true for me.

Book preview

End of the Circle"

Namref H. Tims

Copyright 2022

Table Of Contents

Part I Escape From Reality

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

Part II Flight

Chapter20

Chapter21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Part III Full Throttle Confrontation

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter33

Acknowledgements

Epilogue

Afterword

Part I Escape From Reality

Chapter1 The Clone

I told him to get the gloves...Said Erik Alexander, casually.You mean you told Muhammad Ali --THE Muhammad Ali, World Champion to get the gloves? Queried an incredulous Susanna Paris, psychologist.Yes.But why ?Insisted Susanna Paris as she scrutinized Erik more closely.It was a cruel time. He said softly. It was the month Ronald De Feo killed his family in Amityville.....the month I was re-united with my father after twenty years....the month of Thanksgiving... Erik continued to digress as Susanna pulls him back into the moment.But Erik why did you challenge him? Susanna insisted, groping for a rational explanation.He was behaving very badly, being a real ass…but he actually challenged me...Earlier over the radio I heard the news. Ali was in town to film a segment of the movie , The Greatest. He was living with a prominent physician and his family in Houston,Texas.I jumped in my Toyota and drove down from Hurricane City. I found the physician's residence and after inquiring about a role outside I ventured inside the house where the press and others were gathered. Just as I was crossing the lawn, Ali came out carrying a small child in his arms. As I passed him I nodded to him but he politely ignored me for the crowd that was chanting.

ALI! ALI! ALI!

I passed him once again as I was driving back to my motel room. He was jogging for the benefit of the press as the cameras clicked I pointed my finger out of the window and yelled: I will see you tomorrow Ali! He just simply ignored me again. I came down and reminded the casting director he had hired me. He stared at me briefly like he was perhaps thinking ' I made a mistake ' He handed me a steno pad and told me I was going to portray a ringside reporter. As I walked inside the coliseum I felt completely out of place in my modest gray pin-striped suit. The small group of blacks inside looked like they all had just stepped out of Macy's. Furs, minks, diamonds, movie stars, would-be stars, Annazette Chase, Ali, Ernest Borgnine, pimp look-alikes, hanger-ons, the coliseum was full of superstar hopefuls. There were two others cast as ringside reporters. One was a young black man in his early thirties. Under his cold wave hairdo he bore a remarkable resemblance to Rev. Ike- the popular tv icon. He was all over Ali, flattering, cajoling, trying to pry his way into the in-crowd. Ali was poised at the near corner of the ring talking to Annazette Chase. The balding film director came in and explained our jobs that we would be paid twenty five dollars for eight hours work for the privilege of being in The Greatest.Why all the furs and minks Erik? It was supposed to be Madison Square Garden in New York. Some parts of the actual fight were not very good photocopy so they came to Houston and also it was good for publicity. Houston of course played a major role in Ali's life... the draft board issue and all...Any way ...I took my place and tried to look the part as they began to film. Between cuts Ali began to floor show and introduce his star-studded cast. When Ali tired of praising his all-star cast he turned his attention to the crowd. Hey Brother what do you do for a living? Ali's attention was focused on an impeccably dressed black man. He was wearing a beautiful felt hat, a long furry coat, and sparkling diamonds on his fingers.Calmly, confidently the man responded."I drive a truck.There was a low, guarded chuckle throughout the crowd.The man, however,was not the object of Ali's concern. Ali's eyes were riveted on the tall, beautiful black woman seated next to him.The woman smiled, she seemed pleased at the attention she was now receiving.

OK.. OK Erik but how ...why did You challenge him... Dr. Paris inquires soberly.

Please let me finish...Between camera breaks Ali continued his remarks to the man that could have replaced Ron O'Neal in the movie Super Fly.The man remained calm on the surface but beneath I could detect growing tension. Ali in a way I had not expected was trying to pry this lovely woman away from her companion.Not by sheer charm or force of presence-- but by putting him in the spotlight. Ali bigger than life, was becoming something of a bitter disappointment. It seemed like every other word that came out of his mouth was N----- this or N----- that. Too much Richard Pryor, too much Eddie Murphy.The articulate, urbane Ali had not surfaced.Instead a gross,crude clone of him continued to behave in an insensitive, inconsiderate manner. But the crowd continued to go along with him, after all he was Ali. That N----- Joe Frazier hit me so hard he jarred my kinfolk in Africa! Finally , perhaps due to frustration because his chides could not free the truck driver's woman Ali boasted : I can take any man's woman here! Before my mind knew what my mouth was doing I shot back: You can't take my woman Ali! And you know what Doc--he couldn't, I didn't really have one at the time... Susanna sat in awe. She could not believe that Erik would do something so irrational. She ventures a response.Erik you were acting right? No I was dead serious.. Erik continued his dialogue as Susanna Paris sat in wide-eyed amazement. Erik breaks her out of her trance as he continues on about Ali. Yeah, Ali jumped on me with both feet. N----- you so ugly I wouldn't want any woman you could get... you so ugly yo Mama don't claim you... And that was it Doc, something snapped.I shot back--Get the gloves Ali!

A cold shiver creeped up Susanna's spine. She shuddered momentarily as she considered what might have happened to Erik had he climbed into that ring with Ali. The crowd responded: He's asking for it Ali!Susanna interrupts.But Erik you knew he wouldn't hurt you ... he's a lethal weapon bound by law... No at that instant Fear was the farthest thing from my mind. I felt I could have destroyed him."

But how Erik, how ... Susanna Paris queried as she surveyed Erik Alexander. Six feet tall, 185 pounds. How could you destroy a man several inches taller, thirty pounds heavier, equipped with the fastest hands in the history of heavyweight boxing... How? I don't know , it's just something I felt that was within my power... I have the Grand Fire Trine... The Grand Fire what? Anyway, Ali went over to a corner of the ring and just sort of hung on the ropes as the crowd repeated. He's asking for it Ali! Finally Ali broke out of his slumber on the ropes and unleashed a tirade at the crowd. He cursed them for suggesting that he hurt someone for their amusement or pleasure. Ali only moments ago my ridiculer had become my defender. He walked over to me and in a gentle voice he said. You mean you'd fight me? Still half-insane, half-angry I answered You're damn right, I don't allow any man to talk to me in that fashion, not even you Ali. Susanna remained stupefied.She was beginning to wonder whether Erik's problem was more complex than she thought...Or perhaps was he purposely trying to shock or impress her.Erik she reasoned was a powerfully built man but would certainly have been no match for Muhummad Ali. She wondered... was it cockiness or really temporary insanity or perhaps even worse delusions of grandeur.Susanna was still not sure of Erik's intent-- but his fascination and obsession with Ali reminded her of the relationship Mark Chapman had with John Lennon before he eventually assassinated him. It seemed that Lennon had become an alter ego for Mark Chapman and when they met face to face one of the two had to be destroyed or so the clinical analysis went.There were also religious overtones-- Lennon had supposedly proclaimed he and the Beatles were more popular than Jesus Christ. There were indeed striking similarities in the thought processes...Ali had strong religious beliefs. Erik seemed obsessed with Good and Evil. Erik jolts her yet again. a Ha Ha Ha . He was laughing violently. A deep flush came across Susanna's face. Had you going didn't I? Erik.. Ha Ha Ha Ha...You were really wondering what kind of crackpot I really am. Erik. Susanna tries to slow him down.Did you make up this story as some kind of game? No, No it's a true story ,the rest is for you to figure out... Fact, Fancy or Fiction... Or maybe Insanity... Ha Ha Ha ...He enjoins again in crude laughter. Erik what happened afterwards? Susanna inquired trying to slow him down. After the three minute tirade...lecture and sermon Ali gave the people he walked over to me and said: Are you OK now? I nodded. Then Ali back in form continued on confidently, I know who you are...On our farm we used to have a donkey...You're that donkey ... The small crowd broke in to light laughter, happy to relax again as they tried to decide whether I was acting or whether I was for real.The great Ali was upstaged, if only for but a moment. Ernest Borgnine was sitting on a stool in the corner of the ring.He couldn't seem to be lieve his ears or eyes--He reacted differently than the others. Ernest Borgnine, an ex- Marine, reacted with the emotionless exterior of a man that had experienced many traumas in his lifetime. Ali continued on, These N----- in Texas are crazy. Later he added, Have you ever seen a brother that couldn't fight? Suddenly there was no more N----- in his vocabulary...I had gained a measure of respect. Is that what you were after Erik respect? Partly... You don’t say Yo Mama to a Black Man...I guess you might say I was temporarily insane.

Susanna thoughtfully reflected on her last therapy session with Erik Alexander some six months ago. He had broken the sessions off after only a half dozen or so. She wondered had she helped him . It was late, five fourty five PM. She was exhausted after a full work load of seeing clients today. She was about to lock up her office when her telephone rang. When she picked it up her hand was paralyzed--frozen. For an instant some kind of energy had been generated that forewarned her of an unfavorable message awaiting her on the other end; with calm professionalism she pushed the thought out of her mind.

Hello, Dr. Paris speaking.

Dr. Paris , this is Attorney Trenton Davis. I am representing a mutual client ,Erik Alexander. He tells me that he came to you for therapy about six months ago.Yes, that is correct. How is Mr. Alexander?Well good and bad to be quite frank with you. A family by the name of Vardov is pursuing legal action against Mr. Alexander--Alleging that he has harassed their daughter, Alexia Joan Vardov. They are accusing him of using the mail system to harass,a federal offense.They are additionally accusing him of grand theft and to top it off attempted kidnap. It's all just a blitz campaign on their part...they are trying to lay the groundwork to have him declared legally insane.

How exactly might I be of service to Erik, Mr. Davis?We need anything that would indicate that Erik was neither neurotic or psychotic while he was in your care.We may also need your testimony as an expert witness in the event we have to go court. As Susanna reflected on Davis' last statement. She recalled that he had been referred to him from one of the psychologists from the Carl Jung Institute of Hurricane City. He was on strike and unemployed from Incidental Chemical Company. She thought at the time that his anxiety was largely stress-related due to his immediate job situation. The referring psychologist seemed to think otherwise. Attorney Davis I am sure you are familiar with the formalities of the privileged information between patient and therapist ...I am not exactly clear how I can help on Erik's behalf...But....I can tell you this-- strictly off the record -- During the half-dozen or so sessions I engaged in with Mr. Alexander I found no evidence of neurosis or psychosis. However, extensive interviewing revealed a fixation that a woman or some women were using telepathy or some paranormal means to manipulate him. At the time of the interviews he did not seem to be sure just who exactly these women were...I am sure I don't have to remind you that if you go to court this information could be very damaging to Mr. Alexander.

No you don't Dr. Paris , that's my department But I am prepared for such allegations and our defense will take this into consideration. I see, very well then. I will be more than happy to re-state in a court of law exactly what I have told you but I am afraid neither more or less. Davis pauses momentarily. That will be fine Dr. Paris. I will be getting in touch with you if we need your services, Good-bye. As Dr.Paris , Ph.d hung up the ominous feeling enveloped her once again--For an instant she half- shuddered ,one of those involuntary movements the body makes sometime just as the mind halts it with sheer logic and reason. Somehow Susanna knew the phone call and ensuing conversation would lead to something quite different than anything she had experienced in her entire career. Susanna's thoughts turned to Erik Alexander, a black man, early thirties, attractive. Results of the Minnesota Multi-Phasic Inventory suggested nothing out of the ordinary. His intelligence test score was in the superior range. Peculiar it seemed to her that he should have a fixation, almost paranoid ideation that women were persecuting him--but even more disconcerting was the way he had abruptly broken off his therapy sessions with the brief explanation: Doc you have been a great help to me. I can finally cope with things once again....you have been more than a professional--You have been a Friend. Susanna rubbed her head in frustration. She questioned herself whether she had really helped Erik and why, why and how was he now in trouble. Susanna brushed her slightly grayed auburn hair to the side as she pondered these nagging questions.As she began to lock up her office for the day she considers the attorney that Erik had hired to defend him.

Can he be serious about taking Erik's suspicions as part of his defense? she silently murmurs--But she knew that Erik was a persuasive individual, articulate and convincing. She wondered if he had somehow led Davis astray. Her brows furrowed, a worried frown etched itself across her face as she calculates the odds stacking up against Erik. She opens the door to her crimson and gold corvette. It was a gift from her late husband. He had said It's like you--sleek, low to the ground--tenacious!

Chapter2 As Trenton Davis quietly ponders his client's situation he begins puffing on a pipe, for a moment he forgets client's prescence and mumbles out loud,M It will be the most sensational trial of my career!What was that? Erik queries pensively.Oh nothing Erik, just thinking out loud... You know Erik you will have to be very careful with what you say and to whom from here on in, the Vardovs, are a well-respected family in this city...As Erik considers Davis' last statement he begins to wonder whether he had come to the right attorney, it was now obvious to him that Davis had some kind of preconceived notion of how his case should be handled.He had come to Davis at the provocation of his live- in girl friend Ansara, a first cousin of Trenton Davis. Listen Trenton just how do you plan to handle this thing... I want as little as trouble as possible with the Vardovs... all I want is peace..First of all, I want the same thing as you do, but we must be prepared for the worst... I will try to talk the Vardovs into an informal meeting and try to settle this thing out of court, but the feeling I get is that these people want your ass ... from what you have told me it is apparent they see you as responsible for their daughter's failures in love.. Trenton sounds like you might agree with them. No not at all, just pure speculation...but it is necessary to diagnose the enemy to anticipate and adequately deal with it...I certainly hope so . Erik manages.Trenton Davis stood up abruptly, a tall black man, an imposing figure at six foot three and two -hundred thirty -five pounds. Gesturing Davis began.How about a game of chess Erik?Off to the side of Davis' desk was a huge marble chess set. Silently Erik considers, I'm in trouble and he thinks of playing chess!Sure why not , Erik comments, are you any good?Am I any good , I will warn you I was thought by a twelve year-old chess prodigy?Who Bobby Fischer, Erik chides.No someone better, ME!"

They enjoy a laugh together as they choose pieces. Davis having won the honor of the first move begins playing aggressively. Erik reacts with quiet surprise and decides to play defensively.He ponders whether Davis is a poor player or devised a scheme beyond his comprehension. He suspends judgment until the game has progressed further. There is the hint of a smile on Davis' face as he moves his queen into an attacking position. Erik once again wonders whether Davis has set some kind of elaborate trap to deep for him to fathom .He decides to break the tension, giving himself a psychological edge, remarking light-heartedly,Say man why do you want to put that woman in my face?Davis interprets the jest as an attempt to throw him off …..Say Erik, by the way, how are you and that psychiatrist chick getting along ...you know off the record? She could become a key figure in our defense.Trenton she is a psychologist not a psychiatrist and we have strictly a business relationship...I see ...I see..she seems to be a little sweet on you... they can't fool an ol' womanizer like me...Susanna Paris...no way, I call her Doc, I doubt that she's sweet on me, but we do have a mutual respect for each other though.Erik answers laughing. Trenton abruptly changes the subject.

You know Erik, chess is something like life itself, the main piece, the king a sovereign ruler, given his authority by the Supreme Being himself... but the most powerful piece is the almighty queen... a piece twice as strong as any other on the board...when you think about who actually controls the wealth in this country you realize the truth in this ultimate reality......Yes the idea is to get the king but the imposing, powerful queen stands in your way..... The king...you ever noticed how shook up a man gets when you go after his king...of course you realize that psychologically speaking the king is the chess player's alter ego... yes indeed his whole essence at that moment in time is wrapped up into that small token of a man... for instance I have mounted a rather severe attack on your king ... I can see the strain written on your face...Interesting... very interesting... you know Trenton if chess is like life one would think you have very little regard for your main lady... you see Trenton you have through a lack of prudence put your queen in a precarious position under the illusion you had me trapped... in reality the strain you perceived was actually disbelief in your rashness.. shortly Trenton your main lady will be mine and it will be all over except for the shouting...Erik decides to check his tongue as he realizes that in reality there might be more truth to his kibbutzing .It was rumored that Lillian his wife, a wealthy woman was the support of the household..It's not over until the fat lady sings! Counters Davis, your move!"As Davis sees the reality in Erik's statement, a slight sweat breaks out across his face. Cautiously Erik continues.

But the ultimate truth is that chess is still a game... only a game.. just a game... a game to enjoy, entertain... to savor...nothing more...Life is a game... winning is the name of the game... winning is law...chess is more than just a mere game , it's your move!Davis half-shouts angrily.Erik now hopes that Davis is a much better lawyer than he is a chessplayer. Hoping his rashness and imprudence would not carry over into the courtroom. He was low on funds and in no position to be choosy. In a few more moves he wins Davis’ queen and the game. As Davis moves his king to the side of the board signaling his resignation he offers, Erik you didn't tell me you were a master strength player! You give me too much credit... I probably have a little more experience than you do...No , you're good , really good...Say listen, I'm going to get to work on this matter right away, I'll be getting back to you soon.As Erik leaves Trenton settles down to the task at hand.He knew an out of court settlement was out of the question-- there was no glory in it...but he felt he should at least make a stab at communication with the Vardovs as a matter of feeling them out, he sensed a long court battle , one requiring elaborate and thorough preparation, not so much on Erik's behalf but because he knew his reputation as a lawyer would be at stake as well.Davis' career as a lawyer had been a tormented one.. a career of client's bounced checks.. of being supported by his wife... living in an exclusive neighborhood but no income of his own barely making the payments .. Now at last he saw his chance. Looking at the restraining order Davis acknowledges the lawyer the Vardovs have chosen to represent them, from the District Attorney's Office. Paul Mc Clure a very successful and able attorney. Paul had become one of the most successful lawyers ever to serve in the District Attorney's Office of Hurricane City. Paul and Trenton had been rivals in high school, where they both had made all-American, they had gone to become teammates at the Univ. of Hurricane City and had become very good friends until Lillian entered the picture. Lillian and Paul were going steady when Trenton first met her. Lillian and Trenton soon became deeply in love.It seemed to Trenton that Paul had never forgiven him for this.Trenton and Paul had both gone on to law school -- each finishg at the top of their classes. Lillian had earned a doctorate degree in biochemistry and at the present time provided about 90 per cent of the income at the Davis household. All this weighed heavily on Davis' mind. He thinks, Wait till Lillian finds out I'm going against Paul on this one !... Then he stopped dead in his tracks in deep reflection, he wondered had Lillian somehow regretted marrying him instead of Paul. Although Paul maintained a cordial relationship with Davis, he could still detect resentment and hostility under all the amenities. Something else bothered Davis about their selection of Paul Mc Clure as their attorney... it was known to Davis that Paul's father had been mentally ill and had abused Paul and his mother when Paul was a very young boy. It seemed to Trenton Davis that Paul was very tough on issues and cases that dealt with the mentally ill.."Yes it seems the Vardovs had done their homework in choosing the most able and perhaps best motivated attorney at their disposal to get Erik behind bars or worse a mental institution.

Across town, standing at the window of his tenth floor office building, Paul Mc Clure peering down at the people and cars below thought how toy-like they appeared,toys perhaps to be manipulated by the mind of a superior lawyer,walking back to his desk he reflected,So it will be me and TD this time,what a loser TD turned out to be.Trenton Davis was known affectionately as TD to his football teammates, Paul remember being jokingly called Post Mortem because of his initials and his serious , matter-of-fact approach to life.Yes he recalled he always seemed to be second to the great TD and not to mention his luck with women, he had finally found and thought he had won the one woman's love he so strongly craved, only to have her mesmerized by the charm and wit of the great TD. Even in law school, though Paul finished first in his class and TD fourth, he realized he was still something of a plodder compared to TD. Grudgingly, he had to admit TD was a rare human being, one blessed with superior prowess both mental and physical. He envied TD's gracious physical endowments, he used to kid him that he had the same dimensions of the great Jim Brown, TD had shirked it off , not wanting to be compared to anyone else... had it not been for that knee injury he mused, TD probably would have gone on to fame as a professional football player. Paul often wondered why TD had not become a better as a lawyer but he thought he knew...Deep down TD could not forget or forgive the blow life had dealt him with the crippling knee injury .He had done very well in law school but it was a comparatively small effort for him . But as a professional things were different for TD. Yes Paul considered, ' Superior ability is not always enough, discipline, emotional stability, hard work and perseverance, these qualities TD did not seem to have an over-abundance of.

A hurt look was now evident on Paul Mc Clure's slightly acned face as a haunting memory returned, he could still hear the voice of some twenty years ago, You let that N steal your girl...Paul remembered turning and decking a fellow teammate who had never liked TD because of his race. Thinking back, Paul could not remember exactly why he had slugged this man, whether it was anger, pride, or whether he still valued TD as a friend. After all, he thought, TD could not take what was not his in the first place. Paul recalled how as a threesome sometimes he, Lillian and TD would stop somewhere after a game to get a soda, they were alway so close. But this was still the sixties and occasionally