The Truth
From the Streets to the White House
Selection from Chapter 1
Carver Barrington was the perfect candidate. Carver was the talk of the town, a political nemesis to every candidate. How could he be such a distinguished politician even though he had never run for office?
This was the question and the answer to Carver. It was his many different dispositions. After all, is that not the true nature of a chameleon, transforming and adapting to whatever the environment dictates? Much like his childhood friend, 8-Ball, in this sense he too was a product of what the world – his world – had produced. When he needed to be a gentleman, he was; when he needed to be an athlete, he was; when he needed to be a confidant, a friend, a philosopher, he was; when he needed to be an intellectual and a diplomat, he was.
When he needed to be a survivor, he was. Carver Barrington was always a survivor.
Ever attuned to his own talents, Carver was just as keenly aware of what he lacked. In his mind he could never have been a politician.
Most politicians, in his view – no matter how corrupt, delusional, or self-absorbed – had some strong connection to a Family Tree and a sense of purpose. Most politicians were delusional in thinking they could change the world or make a difference, and self-absorbed enough to mislead the masses for their self-gain under the auspices of doing justice. If Carver knew anything, he knew that most people viewed “justice” through lenses that were not crystal clear, but heavily tinted to aid in the discovery of personal benefit.
For the most part, Carver was a living dichotomy; while he possessed the ability to do anything or be anybody, he was also burdened with the colossal responsibility of making that decision for himself. How does one pick a single star from a constellation of possibilities? In a perfect world he would have been a prodigy; a young genius shaping the world and impacting the universe. But for the time being he knew he was destined to walk among the mortals, only dreaming of the gods and how they shape the universe. Who was this kid? This kid who could dream beyond the streets of his neighborhood, beyond the highest peak of humankind’s limited accomplishments? What qualified him, a humble young man, to look at the self-righteous establishment with disdain, knowing that he was more than capable of eclipsing their intellect – without knowing why he possessed this ability? His intelligence was an albatross, strengthening him and weakening him at the same time.
Selection From Chapter 14
Carver mulled over his prepared speech as he approached the University. This was the second time he had spoken at Yale and this crowd was expected to exceed the previous gathering by significant numbers. He had spoken to Art Garcia earlier and was looking forward to seeing him. After the speech, the two of them intended to spend some time catching up on the latest issues in Hipsanic politics. Art always had the inside story.
As the car exited highway 95 and drove towards campus, even Carver couldn’t believe what he saw. The streets were blockaded to accommodate the thousands of students waiting in line. The press was everywhere. They slowed the car and rolled the window down to inquire about what was going on. One student who was close to the car peeked in and noticed Carver in the back seat. His excited reaction piqued the attention of the crowd.
“It’s Carver Barrington. He’s right here!” It seemed like only moments later that the car was surrounded on all sides by masses of students, protesters, and the media alike.
Monica, Carver’s secretary, was sitting in the passenger seat. Carver looked at her, anticipating suggestions. Monica was speechless. Carver grew antsy and felt claustrophobic.
“Can you step on it? We have to get around to the other side.”
The driver paused, then responded, “Mr. Barrington, no offense, but are you looking at the same crowd that I am? I couldn’t move this car forward even if there were a ticking time bomb in the trunk.”
Monica was glad to see Carver’s humor was still intact as he began to chuckle and grin. Looking at Monica, he suggested, “Maybe we should get out."
He rolled the rear window down, and his eyes lit up when he saw the press clamoring, pushing, and shoving their way to the front of the crowd. He listened to the steady murmur of voices, footsteps, hand claps, and drums rollicking in the thin autumn air. Students chanted with passionate undergraduate bravado for collective bargaining rights. Carver gripped the leather seat and rolled the window up. He buttoned the top button of his suit, winked at Monica, and before she could say anything he opened the car door and exited to the ranks of the crowd.
The Truth - Excerpts
A Bit About The Author
Seth W. Scott
Seth W. Scott was born in Oakland, California during the tumultuous times of Oakland being the murder capital of the US. Born into gangs, violence, drugs, and incarceration; through God’s grace he emerged through education and favor to be engaged in business, politics, and ministry at the highest levels. He is well traveled and shares an interesting perspective from a worldwide view.
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"I refuse to accept the view that mankind is so tragically bound to the starless midnight of racism and war that the bright daybreak of peace and brotherhood can never become a reality... I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word."
Martin Luther King, Jr.
The Truth
From the Streets to the White House
Seth W. Scott Presents
Mr. Scott's first foray into novel writing brings us 'The Truth - From the Streets to the White House. A riveting tale about a man with a shadowed past catapulted into the upper echelon of society and politics - all the while never sure when, or if, his past will release its hold on him.
