Red White and Black

Chapter Twenty Two - Part A

Markus

Once again, it was hot. And when you added a whole pile of ragged nerves into the mix, the sweat rolled off Markus in sheets. He had already taken two showers hoping to cool down, or at least appear cool, but the thoughts racing through his mind kept taking their toll. It was the fault of the phone call he received about an hour after Aunt Sadie had left for the hospital. Could it be possible? Coach Drew Holmes had called. Drew Holmes! And he wanted to stop by and "have a chat." That would be great Coach Holmes. When did you want to stop in? Oh. This afternoon? Great. While pleased at the quick response to his call, the pending visit forced him to view his neighborhood and house from the eyes of an outsider. He grimaced at the trash along the street and the breakfast dishes piled up in the sink.

Deciding to prioritize and realizing he couldn't do anything about the entire neighborhood, he had better make sure things looked good inside the house. So he filled the sink with piping hot water and piled in the dishes. Two additional infusions of cold water allowed his hands to tolerate the scalding dishwater and he was left wondering how Aunt Sadie could ever stand it. He scrubbed away and rinsed at the breakfast dishes with water he was sure would raise scorn from his aunt should she discover how tepid it was.

It was then the voice of his mama decided to speak up. Markus? Don't tell me you doin' all this for another white man. You done know they can't be trusted. You just gonna get hurt all over again. He did his best to put her concerns aside, which became easier when walkd into the living room and realized how shabby everything looked. The tattered sofa sat on an ancient rug, one still bearing the stains of his childhood spills and accidents. It wasn't that the room hadn't been cleaned. He knew his aunt did her best to keep every possession spotless, but no amount of cleaning was going to remove some of the wear and tear he had inflicted on their belongings over the years.

He kept glancing at the clock, hoping Aunt Sadie would return and be able to work a miracle in turning the furnishings into something vaguely respectable. Hearing the sound of a vehicle outside, he rushed to the window full well knowing it wasn't the Buick. Instead, it was Abbie's father. The door of the pickup swung shut and his neighbor stopped in his tracks when noticing the movement in the window. Fatigue marked the man's face and he looked barely able to remain standing, yet Markus felt the his eyes upon him. Without understanding why, Markus shuddered as a feeling of guilt and embarrassment drifted over him. The man had stopped in his tracks, wavering slightly, just gazing through the window, and then, almost as an afterthought, nodded in acknowledgement. Not exactly friendly but definitely not hostile. Markus was stunned. What was that all about? Especially after the events of last night and the heated accusations hurled at him from that very man, livid and bent on revenge. It so shook him, his mother spoke up again, voicing concerns in her own vitriolic manner. Don't be thinkin' that cracker's gonna be your best friend now, just 'cause he didn't call you a nigger or a spook or somethin'. You gotta watch them whiteys. You listenin' to me Markus?

He was listening and it concerned him.

Hours passed and he filled the time by vacuuming the rug, then flipping the rug over in hopes of exposing a side less stained, then turning it back to its original position. He showered, then tried rearranging the furniture in an effort to hide the worst of the rug stains before realizing in most households a sofa is not generally placed a mere two feet in front of the television set. He pushed everything back to its starting point with a look of disgust on his face. He walked out to the front yard trying to envision what the coach would first see when he arrived. After ten minutes of plucking trash from the yard that had blown over from across the street, his attention was drawn to the front door. Aunt Sadie had been all over him the whole summer to repaint it and he had procrastinated, telling her it was too hot and the paint needed cooler weather to cure properly. That excuse had been fabricated by Jay C and together they had a good laugh over a dull task that had been successfully postponed.