Though she abandoned him at a very young age, Davison loved no one more than his mother. She was everything good in his life and everything good in him. Well, if there was anything good in him, it came from her. It certainly didn’t come from that cruel, cold man that was his father. No, he only inherited what the man had to give, and that was everything wrong.
His mother left him, but really, she left his father. Davison didn’t blame her, he could still remember the sound of her whimpered begging and the sound of flesh clashing violently against flesh. He could still vividly remember the bruises, the broken bones, the hospital visits. No, he couldn’t blame her for her escape or the fact that she didn’t take him with her.
She had vanished right from the hospital bed, he would imagine she didn’t have time to swing by his school and get him.
Don’t get him wrong, she did come back for him. But it was three years later, after she had remarried some affluent black business man and was playing mother to his child. He was nine at the time, and he could still remember his first and last meeting with William Barks and his four year old daughter Callie. He remembered that William didn’t seem to like him much and that Callie was a brat who dropped her ice cream cone and whined and complained until he gave her his.
He remembered how he was sort of jealous of how his mom mothered Callie. She dotted on the little brown girl, who was so obviously not biologically hers.
But she had left him.
Plus, he was jealous of their clothes, which were new and clean, unlike his handy-downs from one of his neighbors. He hated the fact that his mother was living in some big mansion with her new family, while he rotted away in a trailer with his dad.
So, when his mother had asked him if he would like to come live with her, he had dug deep and pulled out his inner father and told her he didn’t want to live with no ‘kinky’ headed blacks. He also said he didn’t want to be tainted like she was. These things he had heard his father say. The look on his mother’s face when he told her that made him want to eat his words. He hadn’t meant it, and he had absolutely wanted to go live with his mother, no matter where she lived. A card board box or a frozen waste land, it didn’t matter to him. But he had remained firm, stubborn, exactly like his father.
So, after that, he remained with his dad, seeing his mother a couple dozen times throughout his childhood. He knew she gave his father child support, but what the man did with it was a mystery and they both knew it didn’t really reach him. So most of the times, when she would swing by when he got out of school and take him out to eat or to other things he may have wanted, she would give him a large sum of cash and tell him to hide it from his father, which he did.
She would have been in his life more if he hadn’t been so bitter about how she would rave and gush about her little Callie. So sometimes, he would avoid her, not answer her calls or see her waiting outside his school for him and leave school a different way.
He loved his mother dearly, but he was just so bitter. That may have been the reason why he pretended not to notice the stress lines on her face or the loss of weight around his senior year. It may have been why when she told him about how mean, shallow, and just plain nasty some of the rich people she was forced to be around were, he thought she deserved it. Who was she to believe people like them had any reason to mingle in that social class? His mother was just a country girl who married her high school sweet heart. They didn’t come from money and their names didn’t mean anything.
When he was a sophomore in college, his mother revealed her biggest heartbreak to him. Her precious, sweet, Callie was distancing herself from her and called her ugly names. She cried on that park bench they met at for a whole hour as she explained the humiliation she was facing at the social events she was forced to attend because of her accent or because they knew her backstory. Her husband was cheating on her. Horrible rumors were spread about her. His mother was miserable and simply wasn’t cut out for the world of rich and famous.
Davison had been furious, but he couldn’t do much but offer her a place to stay at his apartment. He told her she should leave, like the last time she was being mistreated. But she hadn’t wanted too, she said Callie needed her. She claimed Callie was just going thru a faze and would stop treating the only mother she knew so horribly. He wasn’t so certain and told her as much. She told him he was wrong and that he simply didn’t know Callie and really regretted not getting them together a couple of times so they at the very least could have been friends.
This had angered him, after all, how could she continue to choose Callie over him when he was her flesh and blood. After that, he had promised to be done with his mother and that had been the last time he seen her.
Then, he heard she died, it nearly broke him completely, he would even argue it did. It was eleven years later and he had just started to make a name for himself. He and a buddy from college had started a tech company which somehow became very successful. It was the third year when they made their first million and it only got better from there. He had been contemplating getting in contact with his mother, wanting to show her his success and for her to be proud of him. But it was too late.
He wanted to know what happened, he needed to know what happened. It became an obsession, a singular focus. It took a whole year to get a story out of someone. A socialite and friend of one Callie Barks, told him what happened that night. She told him of the humiliation his mother suffered when William brought his mistress to the charity event his mother was hosting. She told him how Callie had been the last straw and how she had embarrassed his mother, by pointing out she wasn’t her ‘real’ mother and that she was just some white woman acting as if she was. Those words had sent his mother racing from the event where she was ultimately struck while blindly racing across the road.
Davison had seen red. How dare they do that to his mother? He had wanted to march over to that oversized mansion and kick William Barks’ ass and curse Callie Barks out in a way she likely had never been before.
But that hadn’t seemed like enough to him. His mother had suffered for years because of these people she obviously loved more than her own flesh and blood. No, a onetime punishment wasn’t good enough.
His true idea began to form when he came to know that William Bark’s company was going through finical hard times. Barks Co. was failing. Since starting his own company, he had been thrust into the world that had taken his mother and that he hated so much, and he had heard of Mr. Barks. He knew the man was power hungry and image driven. He had heard that the man was practically going around begging for favors from other business owners. But no one trusted him, after some business he had gotten in some odd years ago. No one was willing to take a chance on the man and neither was he.
But he was willing to take a chance on revenge.