Island in the Sun

Ah, now,
you're not being fair.

Fair? I'm being truthful.
I know what people say.

I know what people think.
I know what you think. I know what he thinks.

I never lived up
to the great Fleury name.

But I might have,
if I'd gone to Oxford and Eton like Arthur did.

Many things might
have been different.

But instead you sent me
to school here with a load of colored brats.

All I ever heard about was Arthur-
how well he was doing,
what good reports you had.

That's who father cared about.
Elder son, apple of his eye.
- Arthur's dead.
- No, he's not dead. He's alive.

Always will be for him.
And I'll always live in his shadow.

Charming Arthur. Modest Arthur.
And then Arthur
dead in the war, a- a hero.

- Maxwell, be quiet, will you?
- All right. Father was kind.

He gave Sylvia and me Belfontaine
as a wedding present.

A decaying house out
on the God-forsaken tip of the island.

And I'm supposed to be grateful
for being Julian Fleury's son.

I'd have been better off
if I'd been born black.

Here's your whiskey sour.
- [Calypso]
- [Chattering]

- Care for a drink?
- Love one.

- Give us one of those red ones, will you?
- Oh, look. They want some too.

- All right.
- Here. Want this?

Oh, and here's another little girl.
You come right in and have one.

Here you are. Got that?
And how about these girls?
- And don't forget me.
- Right.

Give us another one,
will you?

What was that all about?
There once was a man,
don't remember who...