Quite an Undertaking - Devon's Story (22 page)

“‘Cuz you were right there so close in the car with us, and I kind of panicked. Maybe I thought I could let you know how I felt about you if I was drunk enough.”

“I knew you were sending me a sign!”

“When I stumbled against you in the woods? Oh, yeah, Ms. Devon Raines, that was a big flashing neon sign, but then I had to get back in the car with Jessie.” She flashed me that sad smile again, but continued, “I’m so glad you didn’t give up on me. Somehow you found me on the other side of my wall.”

“The black and white wall?”

“Yeah, I guess. I…I don’t know why people are such jerks. Why can’t people just be people? Not black, not white, not whatever—just people.”

“I know.” We were silent for a moment. “What about that pregnant lady in the mall?”

“Which—”

“Remember? ‘Diluting the blood, man,’” I mimicked Jessie. “The black guy and the white woman?”

“Oh, yeah. What about them?”

“Her baby. Is her baby going to be white or black? I mean, the baby’s going to be mixed.”

“Sometimes blacks can pass for white.”

“What does that mean, though? Why does a person have to pass for white? Do whites pass for black? Can’t we all just be humans? Aaah, this is so confusing.”

“I know. Now you see why I had to take some time to get it figured out in my own head.”

“You know what?”

“What?”

“We’re not that different, you and me.” I pulled up my jacket sleeve and motioned for her to do the same. I placed my white forearm against her dark one. “We’re just different shades is all.” I rubbed my arm on hers. “See, we even feel the same.”

She laughed, but then I reached down for her hand and kissed her fingertips one at a time. “I think that blacks and whites and yellows and reds and browns will only be able to overlook their differences when aliens invade Earth.”

She laughed. “Aliens?”

“Yeah, then we’ll have to become the human race and not the black race or the white race or whatever.”

“Good theory, but I don’t have as much faith in people as you do.”

I smiled at her knowing this was probably the first of many conversations we’d have on this topic. We were quiet for a moment, until she commented on the snow accumulating on the windows and suggested that she take me home.

“No, not yet!” I squeezed her hand with both of mine and blurted, “Rebecca, I think about you all the time, and I don’t even care if Jessie beats me up. I think about you every morning and all day long and before I go to sleep. I think about things to tell you during French. I think about what it would be like to touch your cheek. I just…I just…” I ran out of words and started to choke up.

“Shhh,” she said slowly and touched a finger to my lips. “I know, Devon. I’ve known for a long time.”

She slid her finger down my lips, circled my chin for a moment, and then put her arms around my neck. I put my own arms around her waist and pulled her closer until our noses touched. I tilted my head to one side, so I could kiss her. I rubbed her back over her coat. With a boldness I didn’t know I had, I reached under her coat and touched her warm back. She moaned, so I caressed her back while we kissed.

We finally broke apart. I melted when I saw the look of love reflected in her soft brown eyes.

I know my expression turned quite serious when I said, “I’ve got a tough question for you.”

“I’m pretty sure I can handle anything right now, so go ahead.”

“Who are we going to eat lunch with?”

She smiled. “I guess we’ll have to start our own table.”

I nodded in agreement. “That’ll be quite an undertaking.”

“We’ll do it together, right?”

“Yeah, we will. What about Jessie?”

“We’ll do that together, too.”

I believed her as she flashed a reassuring smile. I let her kiss me again as the snow buried us against the world.

Barbara L. Clanton is a native New Yorker who left those "New York minutes" for the slower-paced palm-tree-filled life in Orlando, Florida. She currently teaches mathematics at a college preparatory school in the Orlando area. When she's not teaching, playing softball, tiling her floors, or evicting possums from the engine block of her RV, "Dr. Barb" plays bass guitar in a local band called The Flounders with her partner who plays the drums. Her ultimate dream is to one day snowbird between upstate New York and central Florida.

Out of Left Field: Marlee's Story

High school junior Marlee McAllister lives and breathes softball. She's the pitcher for the Clarksonville Cougars in the North Country of upstate New York. With the season opener approaching, Marlee and her best friend, Jeri D'Amico, go to scout their rivals, the East Valley Panthers. The Panthers star pitcher, Christy Loveland, took the All County pitching title the preceding year. It is a title Marlee covets. Marlee and Jeri settle in for the game but as the Panthers take the field, Marlee finds herself staring at Susie Torres, the Panther left fielder.

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ISBN 978-1-935053-08-8 1-935053-08-6

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