Red White and Black

Chapter Fifteen - Part B

Sammy

He didn't yell or scream, so great was his fury. He could only talk in a strained voice as his daughter approached. "What do you think you are doing?"

"If you're talking about Markus, we just walked down to the drugstore and back," she said in all innocence.

"What I'm talking about is that nigger's hands all over you and how..."

Everyone erupted at once: Markus shouted, Abbie retaliated, and Sammy, who couldn't stand being yelled at by anyone, shouted back.

"Don't be callin' me that! It ain't right and you ain't nothin' but a racist old cracker, anyway!"

"Oh. So it's okay for you to call me a cracker but I don't dare call you anything. Is that how it works? There's a double standard for everything with you people!"

"Daddy! How can you be so barbaric? This is the twentieth century and you're acting like we live somewhere on a plantation with slaves!"

"Stop it, the two of you," screamed Sammy. "You, get in the house, I'll deal with you later. And you. If I ever see you touch my daughter again, I'll cut those black hands off. Do I make myself clear? Do you got enough brains in that ape shaped head to understand what I am saying?"

"That is quite enough," said Abbie with steam rising from her. "I think you're the one who had better go inside, but only after you apologize first."

"Wait a minute!" Markus stood in front of Abbie, cutting her off. "Don't you dare threaten me. I ain't done nothin' to you and you got no cause to be comin' down on me. So you stay outa my face. Got it?"

"Abbie, get in the house!"

By now, the uproar had attracted the attention of several of the neighbors. They milled around their yards at first, but each new outburst drew them closer. The sight of a white man confronting one of their own was enough to pull them near like insects attracted to a light bulb until a loose circle had formed around the trio.

"Daddy, I am eighteen years old and I certainly think I can hang around with anybody I want to. I didn't come here to listen to your tired old prejudices anyway."

"Abbie, you seem to think you've got all the answers just because you're eighteen. Let me tell you something, kiddo. Wait until you get your life kicked out from under you 'cause of some ridiculous minority program. Wait till you start paying taxes and see their lazy asses collecting welfare for doing nothing. Wait till you see your neighborhood become a slum because they don't care about anything but jungle music and popping out new babies."

The gathering crowd murmured and started to get restless. This had gone beyond involving just the three of them, now it was an attack on their whole race.

"Kick his ass, Markus," called out someone from the crowd.

"Look at what you've gone and done now, Father." Abbie became formal with him only when extremely angry.

"Don't you get it? I don't care what these monkeys think as long as they keep their hands off you and leave us alone."

Markus had reached the breaking point. He pushed forward until his face was inches from Sammy's, much like an angry baseball manager confronting an umpire after a bad call. "That's the last time you call me or any of us a name like that. We ain't monkeys, we ain't spearchuckers, and we sure ain't niggers. I have put up with you and this shit for long enough and I've had it. If Abbie wants to see me, then you had better believe I'm gonna see her. And there ain't nothin' you can do about it."