| |
After much thought, I decided to try and act like everything was normal, at least until after the marathon. I thought I could pretend that my life wasn’t falling apart for a few more weeks. It wouldn’t be easy, but I reminded myself that my most important goals were to run the Boston Marathon and get a scholarship. Whoever I had been as a child was less important than who I was as a teenager and who I was going to be as an adult—a gym teacher, if everything worked as I wanted.
But to pull it off, I would need to stay away from home even more and hang out in my room as much as possible when I was home. I had nearly stopped worrying that Mom would ask me about the photos, but it didn’t make sense that she hadn’t. I hoped I could keep my expressions neutral so she wouldn’t notice that I was completely freaked out around her. I didn’t know if these people were murderers, but I could never again relax around my so-called parents.
Francie told me about a new resale shop in town, and we went together the next afternoon. She didn’t need to shop at resale stores, but most of her savings would be used for the marathon, so she decided to check out the store with me. The place was much nicer than Goodwill, and it was upstairs, off an alley, so I was unlikely to run into cheerleaders or other rich girls from school. We walked in, a little nervous because neither of us had ever worn a formal gown before. We were skinnier than most of the other girls, though, so there were a few nice dresses left, and there were no other customers.
The owner, Robin, welcomed us wearing a miniskirt and red cowboy boots. Rock and roll blasted from speakers high on the walls. There was a three-way mirror on a pedestal. We took over the two dressing rooms, and Robin brought us dresses to try. With each one, we wandered out to the pedestal and did a complete turn, to either enthusiastic claps from Robin or dead silence that told us we should move on.
I settled on a long yellow sleeveless dress. It was fairly ordinary but looked great with my auburn hair. Over-the-elbow gloves in the same color came with it. Price: twenty-five dollars. Sold. I just hoped the previous owner wouldn’t be at the prom. Francie found an orange organza dress that flared when she whirled and looked fantastic on her. Add shoes and bags and wraps, and we were set.
With all our moving, I hadn’t expected that I would ever have the opportunity to go to something as grand as a prom. I was always the outsider, after all. Even when Reese asked me to be his date, I hadn’t thought it would happen. But after I bought my dress, I hugged myself and grinned for all I was worth.
* * *
FRANCIE HAD OTHER PLANS on the following Thursday afternoon, so Jess and I decided to do a ten-mile run out in the country. It was hot and steamy in the early evening when we set out.
Jess was in a festive mood because he’d sold two houses that week and stood to make hefty commissions. “I’m thinking about putting a down payment on a little house for my son and daughter-in-law. They’re staying with us while they look for jobs.”
“That’s nice,” I replied, barely able to talk with the fast pace that Jess had set.
“And then maybe I’ll look for a new house on a lake for my wife and me. I’ll buy me a boat, too. I’d purely love to go fishing in the evenings after I get off work.”
“Great.” Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed some white men milling around on the edge of a trailer park that we had to pass to get back into town.
Jess must have seen it, too. In a level tone, he said, “Stay close to me, and don’t make eye contact.” We changed sides so Jess would be closer to the sidewalk where the men had congregated and were talking in low voices. I couldn’t quite catch what they were saying, but they were clearly upset. I kept my eyes straight in front of me and hoped we’d get through this area and into downtown without any trouble.
I held my breath and tried to act nonchalant as we strode through the groups, picking up our pace. We were almost to the far end of the trailer park when one man stepped out from his group of three, right into our path. We started to veer away, and then two more men blocked our way. Jess and I exchanged a look and stopped but kept shuffling our feet in case we had to sprint off in a hurry. As we stood there, chill bumps raced up my spine and down my arms all the way to my fingers. I forced myself to breathe through my nose so I wouldn’t pass out. I had thought Jess was exaggerating when he’d talked about being afraid of running with white women. I couldn’t believe this was happening in daylight, half a mile from the center of town.
One man seemed to be the leader. He was large—tall and heavy as if he might have been a football player years before but had since gone to fat. He said to Jess in a conversational tone, “Hey, boy, whatcha doing out with a white girl?”
Jess adopted a shuck-and-jive attitude that I hadn’t witnessed before. Instead of his usual upright posture, he slumped over, making himself as nonthreatening as possible. There was a pleading note to his voice. “Well, sir, we’ve just been on a run. This here’s a high school student, and I’m her coach.” He nodded. “If you don’t mind, her parents are waiting for her in town. We’ll be on our way.”
“Not so fast,” said another beefy white man. He set his beer can down on the road and stood up straight, unraveling until he was about six inches taller than Jess. He cracked his knuckles. “You got no business out with a white girl, least of all on this day.”
I asked, “What’s happened?”
They snickered, looking at Jess. The leader answered, “Your boy’s been shot by a white man—that’s what’s happened. And the nigras are all riled up. There’s about to be a riot. The cops made us leave downtown, but we’re getting ready to go back.”
I smelled alcohol on their breath. Jess and I glanced at each other. The confusion I saw in his expression must have matched mine.
“What do you mean, my boy? My son James?” Jess asked, fear in his voice.
That made them laugh. The first one said, “Well, I don’t know about that one way or the other. But your boy, Martin Luther King, has done been shot and killed.” He spat out the name as though he’d tasted rat poison.
Oh no. Dr. King is dead? An image of him standing at the podium, proclaiming, “I have a dream...” made me tear up. I inhaled and blew out through my mouth. I’d find out what had happened later and let the tears come. Right then, my concern was getting out of there alive.
Jess said, “Well, sir, thank you for the information. We’ll jest get along home now.” He moved to slide between the men, with me following behind him. But one of them reached out and grabbed his arm.
“Not so fast. One of your kinfolk threw a rock in my window.” He gestured toward the broken-down trailer closest to the road. Sure enough, there was a big hole in the picture window. “I’ll need you to pay for it. I think about two hundred dollars will do it.”
“Sir, I don’t carry money when I’m running. Just let me get home and get my wallet, and I’ll come back and pay for the window. I’m sorry about that.” Jess was trying to pull his arm free. He gave me a glance that said, Run, but I shook my head. No way was I going to leave him.
The man snickered again. “Like we’re going to let you go, boy. No, somebody’s got to pay for my window, if not in money then in blood.” The three exchanged a look.
The third man—he had a blond crew cut and the hardened look of ex-military—pulled me off to one side. I tried to jerk away, to rush to Jess, but the man grabbed my shoulders. I shook him off. He said to me in a low voice, “You stay out of it. Your boy won’t get hurt too bad if he don’t have to worry about defending you.” I was trembling so hard that I might not have been able to run away if I’d gotten free, so I stopped struggling.
The really tall man stood in front of Jess and lifted his beefy fists into a defensive posture. He spat out brown tobacco juice to the side. “Okay, boy, here’s the deal. I’m going to beat you in a fair fight. You get the first punch.” He smiled to reveal a mouth with several missing teeth.
The other man let go of Jess and moved off to the side. “Hit him, boy. Now’s your chance.”
Jess stood there, tense, barely breathing, arms at his side, and did nothing—just kept looking at the ground.
The first man, the one with a huge gut and a wheeze, pulled back his fist and punched Jess in the mouth, hard. Blood spurted from a split lower lip. Jess shook his head and wiped his mouth. And continued looking at the ground.
What was wrong with him? He was strong, and he could have taken that drunk redneck with one blow. I wanted to yell, “Hit him, Jess. He’s just a fat bully.” But I held back my words. Something was going on that I didn’t understand.
The fat man taunted him and took several more jabs, bloodying Jess’s cheek and mouth, and doubled him over with a punch to his stomach. Jess let it happen.
I couldn’t stand watching my friend get beaten up by these horrible drunks. Glancing around, I noticed a few women huddled in a knot in front of one of the trailers, watching but doing nothing. No help there. The man who had been guarding me evidently figured I wouldn’t do anything, so he was watching the beating. He didn’t see me pull the canister of mace from my pocket.
With shaking hands, I turned the lever so the spray nozzle was in line with the arrow that indicated the canister was ready to shoot. I aimed it at the man closest to me and pushed down on the button. A fine spray emerged from the hole and landed on his face. I pushed it down again. He gasped and then screamed, his hands reaching up to cover his face.
That got their attention. Holding my breath so the spray wouldn’t come back at me, I moved closer to the others... and took four quick sprays, two in each man’s face. They screamed and cursed, but they let go of Jess and ran for the water faucets outside their trailers. I grabbed my friend’s arm, and we stumbled away as fast as our shaky legs would allow.
Jess was huffing, trying to catch his breath, but he managed to put one foot in front of the other. Within a minute, we were beyond the trailer park, although I kept glancing back to make sure nobody was coming after us. The road was clear.
Jess said, panting, “Let me sit down over there by that tree for a minute. I can’t make it back to town just yet.”
We maneuvered behind a big azalea bush and collapsed on the ground, leaning against a palm tree. We were out of sight of the road and safe for the time being, at least until those men got cleaned up and decided to search for us. I twisted the lever back into the safe position and put the canister in my pocket. And then I looked closely at Jess. Blood trickled down his cheek and from his lip, and one eye was swollen. I wanted to give him a hug, but I wasn’t sure where I could touch that wouldn’t hurt.
He leaned to the side and vomited into the bush then pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at his cut lip. In a shaky voice, he said, “Thank you, Faye. I don’t know for sure, but those men might have killed me if you hadn’t blasted them. Was that mace?”
My ragged laugh threatened to get hysterical but tapered off to a sob. “Yeah. It sure worked. I was afraid it would get you, too. But I guess it didn’t.”
“Nah. You were a good shot.”
We leaned against the tree and listened as cicadas took up their night song. Finally, I asked in a small voice, “You really think they might have killed you?”
He thought about it. “I don’t know. I surely don’t know. But I was afraid of it. I was most afraid of it.”
“Why didn’t you fight back? You’re strong. Those were just fat bullies. They’d probably have backed off if you hit one of them good.”
“Oh, child.” He sighed. “You haven’t been in the South long enough to know better. If I’d hit him, either they’d’ve killed me right then, or they’d come after me later. Maybe burn down my house or hurt my family. It’s happened before. It might have caused a race war even worse than what’s likely happening in town right now.” He paused. “No, I could never hit back. I wanted to, though. I surely did.”
Wow. He was the bravest man I’d ever met. I couldn’t speak through the lump in my throat, so I patted him on his knee and wished for a better world.
After a few minutes, we walked back to town, his arm around my shoulders for stability. Within a few blocks, a police car pulled up to us, lights flashing. A white officer leaned out. “Are you all right, miss? Is this man bothering you?”
“No.” I flashed him a look of pure hatred. He had the nerve to ask that?
He cleared his throat and seemed to notice that Jess was hurt. “You need a hospital, sir?”
Jess shook his head. “I’ll be fine. I live not too far away. But I’d be obliged if you’d take my friend home.”
“Sure. Get in, little lady.”
I didn’t want to leave Jess, but he pushed me into the car. “I’ll be safer without you. Now, you go home and stay inside tonight. We’ll talk tomorrow.” He slammed the door and limped off.
On the drive to my house, I asked, “What’s going on?”
“Dr. King was shot and killed in Memphis this afternoon.” His tone was grim. “Blacks all over the country are threatening to riot.”
I put my hand over my mouth and held back tears.
He continued. “Not too much has happened yet in Valencia other than a few broken windows. The mayor established a curfew, and we’re sending everybody home. So far, it seems to be working.”
I doubled over, trying to keep from sobbing out loud. Jess had been beaten up because of me. And he could have been killed. If he hadn’t been out running with a white girl, he might have gotten away without being hurt. He wouldn’t even have been out running if not for me. Before he’d started coaching us, he was an out-of-shape realtor, but he was safe. All along, he’d known something like this could happen, but he’d run with us anyway. I wanted to go back and spray those men again, spray them over and over until my mace ran out.
The officer asked, “What happened to you and that man?”
Most likely, Jess would not want me to tell him. I sat up, as tall as I could, and took a deep breath. “Uh, we were out running, and he fell down.”
The officer watched me in the rearview mirror, but he didn’t say anything.
Back at home, Mom and Dad were watching the news of the shooting on television. I couldn’t stand hearing about more racial violence right then, so I went into my room, trying to figure out how I could make it up to Jess.