Page 37 of Edge of Eternity (The Century 3)

"Why not?"

"Because they're losers," Grandfather chuckled.

Lev Peshkov was widely believed to have been a criminal himself, a bootlegger in the days of Prohibition. George said: "Are all criminals losers?"

"The ones who get caught are," said Lev. "The rest don't need lawyers." He laughed heartily.

George's grandmother, Marga, kissed him warmly. "Don't you listen to your grandfather," she said.

"I have to listen," George said. "He paid for my education."

Lev pointed a finger at George. "I'm glad you don't forget that."

Marga ignored him. "Just look at you," she said to George in a voice full of affection. "So handsome, and a lawyer now!"

George was Marga's only grandchild, and she doted on him. She would probably slip him fifty bucks before the end of the afternoon.

Marga had been a nightclub singer, and at sixty-five she still moved as if she were going onstage in a slinky dress. Her black hair was probably dyed that color nowadays. She was wearing more jewelry than was appropriate for an outdoor occasion, George knew; but he guessed that as the mistress, rather than the wife, she felt the need for status symbols.

Marga had been Lev's lover for almost fifty years. Greg was the only child they had together.

Lev also had a wife, Olga, in Buffalo, and a daughter, Daisy, who was married to an Englishman and lived in London. So George had English cousins he had never met--white, he assumed.

Marga kissed Jacky, and George noticed people nearby giving them looks of surprise and disapproval. Even at liberal Harvard it was unusual to see a white person embrace a Negro. But George's family always drew stares on the rare occasions when they all appeared in public together. Even in places where all races were accepted, a mixed family could still bring out white people's latent prejudices. He knew that before the end of the day he would hear someone mutter the word mongrel. He would ignore the insult. His black grandparents were long dead, and this was his entire family. To have these four people bursting with pride at his graduation was worth any price.

Greg said: "I had lunch with old Renshaw yesterday. I talked him into renewing Fawcett Renshaw's job offer."

Marga said: "Oh, that's wonderful! George, you'll be a Washington lawyer after all!"

Jacky gave Greg a rare smile. "Thank you, Greg," she said.

Greg lifted a warning finger. "There are conditions," he said.

Marga said: "Oh, George will agree to anything reasonable. This is such a great opportunity for him."

She meant for a black kid, George knew, but he did not protest. Anyway, she was right. "What conditions?" he said guardedly.

"Nothing that doesn't apply to every lawyer in the world," Greg replied. "You have to stay out of trouble, is all. A lawyer can't get on the wrong side of the authorities."

George was suspicious. "Stay out of trouble?"

"Just take no further part in any kind of protest movement, marches, demonstrations, like that. As a first-year associate, you'll have no time for that stuff anyway."

The proposal angered George. "So I would begin my working life by vowing never to do anything in the cause of freedom."

"Don't look at it that way," said his father.

George bit back an irate retort. His family only wanted what was best for him, he knew. Trying to keep his voice neutral, he said: "Which way should I look at it?"

"Your role in the civil rights movement won't be as a frontline soldier, that's all. Be a supporter. Send a check once a year to the NAACP." The National Association for the Advancement of Colored People was the oldest and most conservative civil rights group: they had opposed Freedom Rides as being too provocative. "Just keep your head down. Let someone else go on the bus."

"There might be another way," said George.

"What's that?"

"I could work for Martin Luther King."

"Has he offered you a job?"

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