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“That’s all I have to say.” Avon limped across his living room on his cane. “I hope that everything gets back to normal around here.” He sat in the lopsided recliner. “How can a little girl could be the catalyst to so much?”
Anderson turned off the recorder of his cellphone. “I appreciate you taking part in this, Mr. Voight.”
The elderly Avon’s stare landed on Channing who sat closest to him on the couch. “I’m sorry for your pain.”
She smiled. “I appreciate that.”
“I pray for Presley every day.” His cloudy-blue eyes sunk into his wrinkled, oval face. “I’m sorry for Zayden throwing that rock in your window. I told him if he ever set foot on your property again I’d throw him out the house.”
“You’ve always been a good person, Avon. You didn’t raise Zayden to be like he’s turned out so it’s not your fault.”
“I don’t understand it. Ever since his mother passed eight years ago, he don’t care about nothing but causing trouble.” He tapped his cane on the plank floor. “Then he started hanging around Eastern Heights. The worst part of the city if you ask me.”
“Eastern Heights.” Anderson jotted the name in his pad. “That’s the area by the train station, right?”
“Not the friendliest section for black folks.” Channing nodded. “Thompsonville used to be a Sundown town and all the hate in the city hailed from Eastern Heights.”
“Thompsonville ain’t perfect but it’s home.” Avon slipped chewing tobacco in his jaw. “Only time I ever left was when I went into the navy. Served for fifteen years.”
Anderson bowed. “Thanks for your service.”
“What killed me was I risked my life for people in other nations to have freedom and rights. Then I come back here and they trying to take away black folks’ rights. Man.” Avon shook his head. “When I first come back here, I was sick to my stomach. Now to see my son spewing hate and has damn near killed me.”
“I don’t understand why people stay in a place they don’t like,” Anderson said.
“We love Thompsonville,” Channing said. “It’s got a lot of warts but it’s our home.”
Anderson smiled.
“Things have gotten better through the years.” Avon spit tobacco juice in a plastic cup. “But, when Nate hit Presley, all that rot bubbled back up from the surface. The folks on Presley’s side riled up because they’re sick of what’s been going on. Then, the damn bigots in Eastern Heights, well, this has emboldened them to feel strong again.”
“I won’t stop fighting for Presley.” Channing sat erect. “I don’t care if they try to intimidate me. Nate Lancaster has hurt me in a way no one could. They can harass me, throw bricks through all my windows, everything.” She looked at Anderson’s sympathetic face. “As someone special told me, this is bigger than me.”
Anderson took her hand.
“Pop?”
The backdoor slammed.
“Ah, hell it’s Zayden.” Avon spit again and grabbed his cane.
“Come on.” Channing yanked on Anderson’s hand for him to get up but he remained on the couch.
“We’re not going anywhere. This is Mr. Voight’s home, and he invited us.”
“Fine.” Channing hurried to the door. “I don’t wanna be in the same room with—”
“What the hell is this?” Zayden trudged into the room, his floppy T-shirt and jeans covered with dirt and grass stains. “Wow.” He chuckled, throwing his keys on the glass table. “If it isn’t Channing Mills.”
“Boy.” Avon rose, scowling. “Before you even start, you watch yourself.”
Zayden stood wide-legged, scrutinizing Channing. “I can do what I want.”
“You’re in my home.” Avon pointed his cane at him. “Treat this young lady with anything less than respect and you’ll be out of it for good.”
The rim of Zayden’s baseball cap lowered over his piercing, almond-brown eyes.
“Hello,” Anderson said in a stern voice that didn’t hide his dislike. “I’m Anderson Abraham.”
“I know who you are.” Zayden walked past the table, gesturing at Channing. “What are you doing here, girl?”
Anderson stood. “Girl?”
Zayden approached Channing and though her stomach was in a thousand knots, she played it off. “Trying to rope my daddy into feeling sorry for you?”
“Step back.” Anderson leapt in front of him. “She’s nobody’s girl and you better show her some respect.”
“Yeah?” Zayden shifted his weight to one foot. “Is some faggot ass, reporter gonna make me?”
“Stop it, Zayden,” Avon said.
“You crazy, Pop? How could you let this trash in here?”
“I’m not playing with you, boy.” Avon gritted his teeth. “Say one more word and you’re out.”
“You ain’t shit, Abraham.” Zayden sized up Anderson. “Snooping around our town, looking down on us. All you want is to spread lies about Nate.”
“Nope, I want the real story.” Anderson held up his phone. “Let me interview you and get your opinion on Nate.”
“Fuck your interview.”
Avon dug his cane into the floor. “Zayden.”
“Why would I talk to you?” Zayden’s nose wrinkled. “It’s easy to see whose side you’re on. The last thing we need is another nigger lover. Ain’t that right, Pop?”
“Get out of here, boy.” Avon stood, raising his cane. “Now!”
“You apologize to her right now.” Anderson stood chest-to-chest with Zayden, the muscles in his face contorting. “Or you’ll see just how tough this reporter can be.”
“It’s okay.” Channing pulled Anderson to the door. “You can’t talk to Zayden. He doesn’t listen to anyone but himself.”
“Damn, boy.” Zayden laughed, grabbing his crotch. “She got you that whipped already? Is that nigger pussy that good?”
Channing gasped as Anderson tore from her hold and yanked Zayden by his shirt. “Call her that again.” He raised his fist, lips trembling. “Say that filthy, disgusting word again and see if you get off that floor.”
“Anderson, stop,” Channing yelled. “He’s not worth it.”
“Yeah.” Zayden bared his teeth. “Listen to your little pickaninny over there.”
Anderson slugged him, knocking him to the floor.
“Anderson!” Channing grabbed him. “Don’t do this. You’re better than this.”
“Go on!” Anderson stood over Zayden, raising his fist. “Call her something else. Do it.”
Zayden wiped blood from the corner of his mouth, glancing at his father.
“I should let him beat your ass,” Avon said. “That’ll knock sense into you.”
Zayden jumped to his feet, wiggling his shoulders to straighten his shirt. “You’ve started it now, big boy.” He nodded at Anderson. “This ain’t over.” He looked at Channing. “I’m talking to both of you. This ain’t near over.”
“Let’s go, Anderson.” Channing shoved him out the door as he exchanged threatening glares with Zayden.