After the incident at the pond, Michael had been acting really strange. We hardly spoke. He often kept himself busy about the yard. Sometimes he'd catch me staring and give a shy smile or a wave. I was beginning to wonder if I had done something to run him away.
I must admit, I was disappointed that he didn't kiss me. The moment was so right. He was such a complex person. He was confusing yet intriguing. It was obvious that I liked him but did he even like me? Deep down inside I was dying to know.
I was in my element under my tree. It was a breezy afternoon. The wind kicked at my skirt as I slammed my notebook shut. I had used all the pages. I couldn't believe how much I had written. I had so much to say and no one to listen. Just a lonely girl and a leather-bound notebook. I sighed. I would have to make an effort to get another.
I rest my head on the hollow trunk of the tree and gazed out into the sky. Strangely, my mind drifted off to Charles. He had been coming over every day since we had brunch. My courtship with him had officially begun. Every afternoon he would stop by in his red mustang and sit on the patio with me. Charles talked excessively about himself and football and I sat there and pretended to care. Mother would watch us from her window and would often come down and offer us stale treats.
There was absolutely no chemistry between Charles and I. The only thing we had in common was wealth. His mental capacity and attitude did not match mine and I always felt uncomfortable around him. With Michael at felt at peace, like I could tell him just about anything in the world. I could be myself around him. I was pretty sure that he was smart enough to carry on the conversations I wanted to have and I believe he had interest in me as a person, unlike Charles. I still wasn’t happy about my future with Charles but a part deep inside of me was preparing myself for a very boring marriage.
I drifted into a day dream about being married to Michael. We’d get married right here in this yard under this great big oak. He’d be standing under it, smiling that dazzling smile of his. My dress would be made of the most delicate lace and there’d be white flowers in my hair. There would be no bridesmaids, no best men, no mother and father. Just me, him and the preacher.
I mentally slapped myself for this fantasy. I knew it was wrong. My father would never give his daughter away to a Negro. Society would never accept us as a couple. The world frowned upon interactions between blacks and whites. I had heard about some of the things they did to blacks in the south. Race relations weren’t all that peachy keen in the Mid- West either. The thought about something that terrible happening to Michael on account of me gave me deep chills.
I still couldn’t understand what was the big deal on skin color? Why did it even matter? Why was the world so superficial? It makes me angry just thinking about it. When God created the world he should have just eliminated skin color all together.
My thoughts were interrupted by Michael coming out of the house. He was wearing a plaid button up shirt with Khaki’s that flattered his thin frame. A curl fell loosely in front of his face that I thought was adorable. He was cradling a box under his arm. “Hey!!” I called out to him waving wildly. Maybe I was a little too happy to see him. He smiled brightly as he approached me under the tree.” Hi Farrah.” Michael said. “What are you doing this morning?” He asked. I smiled straightening my skirt. “Oh, the usual, being lazy.” I replied. He laughed. “Well, why don’t get up and find something to do?” He asked. “Well what’s a girl to do? It seems like I can’t do anything without my mother calling it unlady like.” I simply replied. Michael smiled staring down at his shoes.
“What do you have in the box?” I asked. He smiled. “Bulbs. They’re tulips.” I nodded. “You plant flowers too?” I asked. “Why of course, that’s where it all starts. Your mother wants me to plant them in the front and the back.” He replied. “Mind if I watch?” I asked. “Not at all. Only if you want to.” I smiled. “I’d love to.” He reached out his large hand to help up. I gladly took it. His hand seemed to fit perfectly into mine. It was, soft large, and warm. I stared at our intertwined hands for a moment. They looked nice together. He gently pulled his had from mine and approached the patch of dirt that had been perfectly lined with stones.
Michael then got on his knees, pulled out a shovel and began digging perfect holes in the dirt. I straightened my skirt and got on my knees too, wanting to get a better look at his work. After digging holes he carefully took out a tulip bulb from the box and carefully placed it in the hole. He was so gentle with it. “You handle that with such care.” I commented. He smiled. “You have to. This is life you’re dealing with. You have to treat seeds like babies. If you nurture them and care for them, they’ll grow into something beautiful.” He replied. I found this to be very adorable. “What do you know about babies?” I asked suddenly. He smiled. “Not much, but at least something. I’ve got a little sister at home.” Michael replied.
I sighed. “Sometimes I wish I had a sibling or two.” I replied. He laughed. “Trust me; it’s not all it’s cracked up to be. Well, at least when you’ve got eight like me.” My eyes widened. “You’ve got eight siblings??” I questioned. He laughed. “I’m number 7. It’s why I’ve got a job here this summer. All my brothers and I have to work. Joseph’s income alone ain’t exactly cutting it for our family.” “Whose Joseph?” I asked. He sighed. “My dad.” He replied. Something about his tone was bitter and distant.
“Farrah!!! Farrah!!!!” My mother’s shrill voice stopped me from asking any more questions. “What are earth are you doing??? Charles is here to take you out and you’re on your knees in dirt with some Nigger!! That is entirely unlady like.” I could see Michael’s eyes darken at the use of her words. She forcefully pulled me off the ground. “Go inside right now and change and I don’t want to see this again.” She said firmly grabbing my arm and pushing me into the house.
I hate her.
As I came into the house Charles rushed up to me. “Farrah, honey, we’re going to the diner down town. I thought you might be hungry.” He said. “Well I’m not.” I snapped. “We’ll maybe you’ll work up an appetite after you get changed up.” He replied. “Maybe I will.” I replied as I rushed up the stairs. I quickly changed into a dress and rushed back down stairs. Charles was talking with mother in the kitchen. I quickly went back outside to see if Michael was okay. He had his back turned, enthralled in his work.
“Michael I’m sorry.” I declared. He turned to face me. A stream of perspiration fell down his face. “No need to be sorry, it’s not your fault.” He replied. “But it is.” I replied. “You can’t keep apologizing for your mother’s actions. Go enjoy your lunch with lover boy.” He replied. Something about his tone was slightly jealous, or maybe I wanted it to be.
“She will.” Came Charles’ voice from behind me. He tightly grabbed my hand and glared down at Michael. “Charles this is Michael. Michael this is Charles.” I declared trying to break the tension. Charles continued to stare Michael down. Michael returned the glare. “I don’t care who you are boy. Keep your distance, nigger.” He spat bitterly. Oh, no. It happened again.
I just stood there and stared. “Are you coming or not Farrah?” He asked roughly grabbing my arm. “Yes, let’s go.” I replied turning on my heel and following Charles to his car. “I’m sorry.” I mouthed to Michael as Charles slammed the car door shut. I kept my gaze on Michael as we slowly backed out of the drive way.
I didn’t think I could cause so much trouble in one day.
Author's Chapter Notes:
The long awaited chapter. Please review!!!
Chapter End Notes:
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