Southern Perceptions

Southern Perceptions - Part 24

                                                        >>*** So this chapter is dedicated to crystalblack22!  ***<<

                                                            Her comments always brighten my day! ***<<

"I never really thought about my future much as a kid. Never questioned why we had way more money than others or where it came from, not until recently anyway." Dalton tilted his head back, resting it on the hay bales stacked up behind us. "Now, it's all I think about these days."

I thought for a moment.

"Hold on. So you're telling me you have a lot of money?"

"My family has a lot of money," he quickly corrected.

"O-kay, so your problem is that your family's loaded?" I asked confused, not quite understanding why someone my age would think having money was a bad thing.

"No, not exactly," he said.

"Then what is it?" I asked.

"It's just that here in Grayson, being wealthy comes with certain ... obligations." Pulling out a piece of parchment paper that had been tucked securely in the back of the journal, he carefully unfolded it and handed it to me.

"What's this?" I asked taking the paper from his hand.

"Read it."

The paper looked as though it had been crumbled up several times and then flattened out again; like Dalton had contemplated tossing it a time or two.

The first line read: The Southern Affinity League cordially invites you to attend the 89th Annual Affinity Cotillion. Right below the invitation was Dalton Sinclair III stamped in a red waxy ink.

I shrugged. "Ok, you were invited to a ball. Do you not have anything to wear? I'm sure we've passed a Macy's once or twice."

My slight attempt to lighten the mood was quickly disregarded.

"Oh, I have something to wear, alright. Everything is already decided – right down to the matching cuff-links." Dalton's tone was drenched with disdain.

"So, I'm not really understanding the problem, unless there's more to it. Like why someone with money would be driving an old beat-up truck or secretly squatting in a loft."

A moment passed as he carefully tried to collect his thoughts before he finally opened up.

"My dad is on ... was on the Affinity Council; he passed away a little over a year ago. Anyway, the Southern Affinity League is a form of government, adopted by Grayson County, in which a few of the most prominent citizens rule. Man, just listen to me, I already sound like an Affinity."

He shook his head in disgust.

"Basically, it's a society put in place to keep wealth assigned among the prominent townspeople. It's very political. The league has its tentacles spread far. They have say on many county positions like judges, police chiefs, and even mayors. Normally, this would be decided by an entire state or country for that matter, but Grayson County is somewhat of an exception."

"So what is it exactly, the Southern Affinity League?"

He grew silent again, as if deciding whether or not to continue.

"Well, for lack of a better word, it's a mob."

I felt my eyes widen.

"Not an in-your-face mob like Scarface. It's more of a behind the scenes kinda deal. Not everyone in Grayson County is a member of the League, but like the mob, the entire community is hush, hush about it." Dalton's lip twitched. "Anyway, all of the decisions regarding the county and its monetary assets are left in the hands of the Affinity council. This includes, but is not limited to, property allocation, heirloom distribution and arranged marriages."