Darryl had a son, named for the great explorer of 1492. Jamaicans did things like this; George Washington, Isaac Newton. Always naming their kids for someone great. Darryl hated it. He wanted a junior.
By 1989, the boy was twelve. But Darryl hated his in-laws. They were always chastising him for his size. He was losing a bit of weight but not fast enough for them. He quit Berkley; money ran out. The threats became ultimatums. He decided to move. He was going to take his son with him.
This child of the sixties was going to raise this son of the seventies himself. He needed some place with less porn than Brooklyn; and better jobs. Any job would be good right now. He thought of Cleveland; then there was Motown.