“Wooooooh-weeeh! Look at that ‘coon booty.”

I almost dropped my head in shame, but glanced around nervously instead to make sure there were no black people within earshot. Thank God there wasn’t, or I was going to have to punch Tyler in his throat.

“What the fuck Tyler, watch your mouth. We’re at my pop’s store for God’s sake.”

I hopped down from the back of the truck and wiped my hands on the seat of my pants. I looked up at Tyler to make sure he heard me, but saw his blue eyes focused across the street.

“Come on man, its fuckin’ hot out here. What in the hell you starin’ at?” I knew what he was staring at. I aint even have to turn around, but I did anyways. I instantly saw what had caught his eye.

Parked across the street was a black girl with half her ass out, bent inside of an old pickup truck. She looked as if she was struggling to grab something, because with every move she made, her ass jiggled. I tried to look away and go back to unloading the truck, but as my eyes traveled up the slight roundness of her rump, I was itching to see what her face looked like.

Before I could satisfy my desire, Tyler’s voice brought me back to the task at hand.

“It seems like you’re just as much of a nigger lover as your pop is.”  I locked my jaw at his response. The last time he called my pa a nigger lover I blackened his eye.

He held a slight chuckle in his voice, as if the statement was said in jest, but he knew I wasn’t playing. My jaw ticked and I looked up at him, pretending I aint here him the first time.

“What did you say to me?” I moved towards the truck. Ready to grab his ankles and yank him out the truck. Yeah, we were best friends, but he knew I’d whoop his ass any day.

Instead of answering me, his hand moved down to palm the crotch of his pants, while his tongue darted out to lick his lips.

“Yessir. That’s some mighty fine ‘coon booty.”

An hour later, Tyler and I found ourselves sitting in the diner ordering lunch. Pa had called it a day for us, saying he had my cousin’s help if he needed anything else. Hell, I was happy. The shifts I was working down at the Meacon farm, and the care I was giving to Ma often had me worn out. Couple that with Tyler’s perverted, careless mouth, I was ready to go home.

Ever since he saw that girl his mouth wouldn’t stop going. It was something I couldn’t understand, how he could be as racist as they came, but fucked more black girls than I had seen in this town. In high school there were maybe no more than twenty black people there, and I only knew that because I saw them at the graduation.

Most of the time when I was with Tyler I became increasingly embarrassed because and irritated because of his disrespectful mouth. That shame only intensified when I knew he couldn’t help himself. He had this shit grin on his face and this sinister look in his eyes. We were sitting across from each other, with my back facing the door, and his facing the entrance of the diner.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” My eyebrows drew together as I saw his lips form into a smile that mimicked the Cheshire cat. He only nodded his head towards the exit.

I turned to see what he was talking about before I was halted with his foot jabbing into my calf.

“What the fuck is your—” My sentence was cut short by Tyler’s voice raising an octave, and the newfound presence of musk beside me. In two seconds his fingers were wrapped around the wrists of the passing person. Her body was slightly turned away from me, but I knew who it was. It was the girl from the truck. And from the look in Tyler’s eyes I knew he wanted to fuck with her.

“Hey beautiful, you mind refilling me up on my coffee?”  Tyler’s voice traveled over the noisiness of the diner. It drew me in, only to witness her reaction, but at the same time I wanted to look out the window. I didn’t have time for this today.

“Ty.” He ignored my call. His eyes were still trained on the girl and his fingers still wrapped around her wrist. I looked up into her face, which was twisted into confusion and an impending frustration.

“Excuse me sir, but I don’t work here.” Her voice came out in a low grumble, which I knew Tyler heard, because it echoed to my ears. She tugged on her wrist, but he still refused to move.

So I tried again. “Ty, let her go. She just said she didn’t work here.” His eyes didn’t flicker to me or show that they cared much of the sternness of my voice. He chose instead to open up his dickhead mouth.

“Could have fooled me,” His head tilted towards the counter. “Ain’t them your brothers and sisters back there?”

It was something about those words that did something to me. Whenever Tyler commented about blacks I never said anything back to show I agreed with his racist bullshit, nor did I ever say anything to counter it. I only tolerated it because somewhere in my shit-head mind I reasoned that this was the way he was raised and he didn’t know any better. But seeing the way he looked at her, with hate, lust, and fascination brewing in his eyes—stirred a type of disgust in me.

It had me calling out Tyler’s name a little louder now, which finally gave him the decency to look at me.

“You know what I’m talking about Bud? All of ‘em except Sophia. We all know she is el espano.” His grin didn’t back down, nor my increasing impatience. Before I knew it I was grabbing her wrist and wrenching it out of Tyler’s hand.

My body lurched towards Tyler, and seeing that dirty grin on his face, I almost fucked up his face.

“If you wanted her for herself, all you had to do was say so.” He held up his hands as if to say ‘I surrender’ and looked down at the table, with a chuckle brewing from his lips. He finally had the decency to look down, but two seconds later, I found his eyes meeting mine, then moving to watch her. His chuckled heightened at the look plastered on her face. I hadn’t paid her any mind—my mind more focused on Tyler’s actions than how she was actually doing.

There had been a bubbling disturbance in me that had me reaching out to grab her so that she wouldn’t be tainted with the presence of Tyler anymore. Not once did I think to look at her, and see how embarrassed and uncomfortable she had been.

But now, as I watched Tyler’s eyes glance down to my fingers that were once wrapped around her wrist, to her face, I took notice. The diner had hushed down to a mere silence, with the only noise coming from the back of the house where the cooks were making food. All the patron’s eyes had been trained on me and my actions, and not of those that belonged to Tyler.

I found myself drawing my hand back and placing it down at my side. My eyes, however, had different plans. I watched her step back, with a tremble in her lip, and her wrist held in her other hand. Her eyes darted from the floor, to Tyler’s face, to mines, and the other patrons. She looked lost, and confused. And all I wanted to do was help her. But the coward in me just stood there, looking dumb as shit while I watched her pretty little ass jiggle out of the diner, and back across the street.   

There was nothing better than driving down a country road with the windows down, and music blasting. My bangs had grown out down to my ears and flapped harshly against my skin while I tried unsuccessfully to push them behind me. This was soothing to me. As soothing as anything that had happened in the past year. A part of me had felt that that was what I had been doing—pushing things behind me—and as a result, I was ready to explode.

The day I left the diner, red in the face with anger and embarrassment, was the last day I had been back. Tyler had called me the first two days to apologize for his behavior. On the third day, when he realized I wouldn’t answer, he texted me and told me to fuck myself, or her—whichever one made me feel better. And for that I stayed away.

Pa had let me stay away, allowing me whatever space I needed. He knew I was trying to work on my anger, which is something I had been working on my whole life. I was never the sit-down-hush-your-face-and-take-it type. Whenever there was shit to be handled, it got handled.

Before leaving for college my parents had me go see some shrink to vent why I was angry all the time, and at some point, I couldn’t even figure out where it started. I just knew I wanted to hurt people when they hurt me. Period.

One could say I was doing good, until I came back from college on fall break. We invited Tyler over to dinner with my ma, younger brother, and sister. I hadn’t yet been back to the store, but May was catching me up on who all had been hired down at the diner and how it was going. Needless to say, Tyler had something to say about the black chef that had just been hired, and called my Daddy out his name.

Now that I look back at it, I questioned if I should have whooped his ass some more. It was my carnal desire to snatch his teeth out his mouth and make him eat them at the diner. But I couldn’t. Somewhere in my thought process I realized that I was a hypocrite. Here I was, ready to harm Tyler for being whom he was, but I still hung out with him. I still ate lunch with him every day of the week for our lunch break, went over to his daddy’s house—who I may add is a racist fuck—for dinner and blessed the food with them. Was I not racist? Was I not guilty by association?

“Turn right onto Wimbledon street.” My thoughts were interrupted by Siri’s voice. Between the vibration of the bass from my music, and the calming effect of the wind, I went into another world.

I loved my mornings early and nights even earlier. Pa had told me last night that in between my sulking and reclusiveness I needed to drop off some paint down in Cottonwood. Cottonwood was known as being the empty, “black” part of town, one could say. Like I said, not many blacks lived here, but if they did, this is where they lived. A lot of them lived in houses that had seen better days, and were once owned by whites. Back in the days these were probably the fanciest houses on the block, but now they were saddened by peeling paint, chipped wood, and sagging porches.

With my truck parked, t-shirt on, and paint in hand, I knocked on the gray door and waited for a response. We barely had paint orders, but when we did, we always personally delivered so we could show our dedication to our customers.  Alongside that we offered a painting service at a low price. Usually on these trips Tyler would be with me, but because this task was so small, and I was still mad at the both of us, I figured it best to let him be.

“Who is it?” I heard a faint voice call from behind the door.

I took a step back and let them know I was the Paint Guy. Within seconds the knob on the door was jiggling and the door was being opened. I wasn’t a smiling person, but I was a gentleman.

“Morning ma’am.” I nodded my head at the pretty older lady staring back at me. Her glistening brown eyes danced with joy at my motion to the paint in my hand.

“Oh thank goodness. You’re finally here! I have been waiting for this so I could get rid of this dreary color my ma had painted on these walls. ‘Bout killed me.” Besides being pretty, the first thing I noted about this woman was her accent. She was country, that was for sure, but she wasn’t from around these parts. I had only ever been so far in North Carolina, but when I did I took notice of the way people talked.

When she noticed I wasn’t behind her, she turned around and motioned for me to come in.

“Sorry sweetheart. You come on in, and shut the door. If my daughter even hears the sunshine outside, she will come down here and kill us both.” I walked in behind her and closed the door gently with my boot. The house was a nice size. Probably one of the nicest I had been in on these parts.

“Would you like for me to take one of those for you?” She nodded towards one of the cans I had in my hand. Before she could even begin to finish the sentence, I was shaking my head no.

“No ma’am. I got these just fine. If you could just show me where I’ll be setting up today.” Always a gentleman. Pa taught me right.

“Of course! Come this way,” She turned away from me and we walked away from the door and further into the living room.

“Please don’t mind the mess right now. Ellie and I have been moving stuff around and rearranging.” The mess she referred to was none other than the furniture she had taken out of one room and stuffed into the next. We walked through the living room, down a hallway, then off to the left where a small room was placed beside the stairs.

“This is it. Now we cleared everything out, so you should be good to go.” She motioned for me to enter the room. Her lithe body stood over to the side with hands clasped in front of her, and a smile on her face.

I nodded at her and gently smiled back. I believe I liked this woman.

“By the way, don’t be afraid to make any noise. If Ellie wakes up, then she just wakes up. That girl sleeps way too much.” Her body moved to exit the room, but then she stopped.

“And if you need anything, I will be around doing something to this house. So don’t hesitate to just call my name, which is Nicole by the way.” Her small hand reached out towards me and I took it gently.

“Bud, Ms.” I gently squeezed it, then released. After noting the satisfaction on her face, and hearing her retreating footsteps, I reasoned that maybe today was going to be a good day.

I was a big man with a big appetite. I wasn’t one for snacks, but with every meal, you could bet that my plate would be licked clean. That’s why my initial refusal to stay for lunch was persistent. One could liken my eating habits to the angry exploits of the Hulk. Which could be off putting to people who were not accustomed to me and my ways.

“If you don’t mind ma’am, I would just rather work through lunch and go on head and finish the room. I am almost there.” I watched her nod her head and peruse the room.

“Yea, it is almost finished. And if I didn’t mind I wouldn’t ask you to stay. Now come on, and quit your mess.” I mentally sighed. Somewhere on the third wall, my body had reminded me that I had a restless night last night.

“I hope you don’t mind, I made breakfast.” Her voice filled up the space of the kitchen we entered.

“Ellie can be a picky eater sometimes. And when she is, all she will eat is breakfast food.” I listened as Ms. Nicole walked around the kitchen talking half-heartedly to herself and to me. I responded when necessary, and gave her the most genuine smile I could plaster on my face. Painting at high noon had left me greasy, paint streaked, and sweaty. I did not want to be here, but here I was, accepting orange juice and exchanging minute niceties.

“Give or take five minutes and Ellie should be down.” I wasn’t as excited as she was, but I’d take it. Before I could do anything else, I remembered that I told Pa I’d call him when I was almost finished.

“If you don’t mind ma’am, I’m going to run out to my truck.”

I couldn’t have been out of the door any quicker. As soon as my boot hit the grass, I sighed a sigh of relief. If it felt good this morning, it was feeling right, right now. For the past couple of years, spring had become nonexistent, but God decided to bless us with a grace period of wind and dogwoods this year.

While the wind felt good on my back, I couldn’t stop the thoughts swarming through my head. I just wanted to get the fuck out of here. I wanted to get away from Lennon. It was this thought that went through my head when I heard the slam of the screen door.

I had my head down, ducked between my arms that rested on the hood of my truck. At the sound, my body jumped, and I immediately began mentally preparing an explanation as to why I was taking so long, but my words got caught in my throat.

There she was. Standing in all her glory, with expressive eyes just as bright as her ma’s. She was dressed simply, and presented herself as if she had just rolled out of bed. The wrinkled tank she had on couldn’t be disguised by the cardigan that adorned her shoulders. Nor could it have done a better job of flashing a hint of flesh at me, where it ended and the pair of shorts on her stubby legs began. Her nipples, straining against the fabric of the shirt, flashed out at me. She didn’t move to cover them. I wanted to say hi to them.

Her eyes bore into my face, but I couldn’t look. I couldn’t do it. After leaving the diner, I went through a thousand scenarios of how I would apologize to her, if I ever saw her again. And now that she was here, in the flesh, my lips couldn’t set themselves aside to let the words I had so carefully planned to escape. I felt like a pussy. Shit. I had never been tongue-tied over a woman.  

A sorry would have sufficed. While I reasoned that I had nothing to be sorry about, I felt I needed to apologize on my behalf for who I was—the said hypocrite. I felt I needed to explain to her that I was not a racist, even if I was with Butthead. But none of that came out.

Instead, I stood there like a little bitch, and let my eyes stay trained on the brown skin of her feet. I sat there and watched her short toes flex beneath my stare, mulling over how the fact the chicken in me was bigger than what I had known. Without warning, her left foot moved away from the porch.

Instinctively, I shot my hand out. “Stay there.” In the one minute we had been in each other’s presence, I had shoved my hands into my pocket. At the sound of my husky voice, my hands began to tremble. Clearing my throat, I tried again. But this time, I glanced up at her. I had startled her, and on shaky legs she put her foot back in place, and even took a step back into the grove of the porch.

“I’m sorry. There’s um—there’s just um—sticky brows all over the yard. And you’re barefooted,” I motioned towards the brown rounds that littered the yard. “Just don’t want you to get hurt.” I glanced at her again, and watched her nod her head. But this time, I caught wind of the look in her eyes. It was the same look that I probably had in mines.

I wondered if after that night, had she stayed up thinking of what she should or could have done to not be a part of the show in the diner. Or even if she prepared something—hell, a voodoo doll—in case she ever saw Tyler or I again.

“Is your friend here?” Her voice came out barely above a whisper. She titled her head back towards the house and I almost immediately began shaking my head no. I saw the fear and animosity in her eyes.  At the mere thought of Tyler being here, I ran my hands through my bangs and shook my head no again. I would be a fool to bring Tyler to this part of town, even if he and I were on good terms.

I watched her nod her head and look away towards a field on the east. She was quiet, and it scared me. I expected her to come at me swinging, but here she was, killing me softly.

The wind blew through her thick hair, and upon closer inspection, I could see sweat forming on her upper lip. I could have bet money that she was just as anxious as I was.

 Not under her solemn stare anymore, I found courage somewhere inside of me to at least call her back to me. But before I could exercise my new-found strength, I watched the screen door creak open behind her.

“Ellie! Have you met Bud? What are you out here doing? Ya’ll better come on in here and eat.” She seemed to go ignored as Ellie’s eyes stayed trained on the distance and my eyes stayed trained on her.

 I didn’t know whether or not to be mad at Ms. Nicole for disrupting my path to redemption, or praise her for being my savoir. Either way, I knew I needed to eventually speak to Ellie, to make things right. Ms. Nicole held the door open for us to come in, and for a moment I watched the petite girl.

She looked up to the sky, as if seeking out God in the clouds, then turned on her heel. “I aint hungry.” She grumbled, before moving past Ms. Nicole, away from me, and back into the house.