by RJ Pritchett
Rebellia received another loud ovation from the onlookers, staring at her in admiration as she paced back and forth in front of the giant bonfire. She rubbed on the fanny pack around her waist and stopped pacing, waiting patiently for the crowd to simmer down.
“You have pro-war Americans shouting out ‘All Lives Matter.’ It’s weird, isn’t it? I mean… If all lives mattered, America would never be at war. America would say to itself, ‘you know what? We shouldn’t send troops to that other country to kill people. We shouldn’t send drones into that other country to snipe any and everyone in our sight. We shouldn’t drop bombs on whole countries, killing whoever is unlucky enough to be in that area at the time. We should never go to war with another country because you know what? All lives matter. Let’s not celebrate the death of foreign dictators and terrorists because all lives matter. We shouldn’t allow the murderers of these unarmed black men and women because… all lives matter. We shouldn’t separate those immigrant children from their families because… you know…” Rebellia cracked a smile for only a split second. “If Martin Luther King couldn’t get through to them, then how the hell am I going to change their perspective, right? It’s useless to talk to them because things will still be the same. Nobody can change the world; you can only influence it just a tiny bit. They killed Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., so they can control African-Americans by putting words in his mouth posthumously as they do with every good leader that challenges the status quo… but you probably know that already. In fact, they kill all black leaders because of the ‘cut the head, and the body will fall’ mindset.”
“Talk to em!” someone cheered.
“White rioters are upset fans; black rioters are thugs. ‘Black lives matter’ is a hate group; Islamic groups are most likely terrorists, but white cops who kill unarmed men, women, and children of color are just people in fear for their own safety. The Black Panther Party was forced to disband by the US government, but the Ku Klux Klan is still a thing and it’s bigger than ever. Not all Klansmen wear white hoods though. They also wear black robes, blue uniforms, and also suits and ties. They’re on Fox News, they’re kicked off of Fox News because of sexual assault allegations, and some of them are even elected president by the puppet master. They’re hiding in plain sight and there’s a troubling amount of people in America that can’t even see it. Racism never went away, it just adapted to today’s society of smiling in your face with evil intentions behind the mask. It adapted to today’s society of spreading racist remarks while cowering behind a phone or keyboard. You’ll be dealt with eventually because the universe is funny like that…”
More items were added to the bonfire, and the people who added to the lessening flame walked back to reclaim their seats when the fire was great again.
“Do I have to be Caucasian for my message to reach a mainstream audience in America? Backlash ensues when people don’t get their way, and America loves their whitewashed heroes. That’s how it always has been. Lord knows how many people would be pissed off if an African-American woman or Asian woman were to play the role of Rebellia in a movie about my life. Don’t even get me started on the backlash I would get if I was announced to be of Islamic descent. You may even assume that I’m not Caucasian based on the fact that I’m speaking out against many of them but how would you know? I will not announce my ethnicity or skin color because I want to keep you guessing. Am I Black? White? Asian? Hispanic? You’ll never know because it shouldn’t matter to you what my ethnicity is. Just like how I don’t give a fuck what your ethnicity is.”
“…She knows we can see her, right?” Tobias whispered.
“Shut up. She wasn’t talking to us,” Faye whispered back, chuckling.
“I remember when Benny first told me his story. In confidence, I relayed the story to Travis and he enjoyed every second of it. When he first set eyes on Benny, his jaw dropped. He had no idea that Bernard ‘Benny’ George was an Asian man. He had no idea that his wife and children were Asian too. He wouldn’t have guessed unless I told him. None of you probably would have expected it because he and his family didn’t practice Kung-Fu, play instruments, or because their English wasn’t broken. In fact, in American literature, the last thing you would expect is for characters in a story to be Asian unless it’s blatantly obvious… as if Asians don’t exist without stereotypes. Do you want to know why their ethnicity was never mentioned? Because it shouldn’t fucking matter. Did Travis, Patricia, and Faye have to speak ebonics for you to suspect that they were African-American? Or does Faye have to speak a little bit of Spanish, being that she’s biracial.”
Most eyes moved to Faye, who was caught off-guard by the sudden attention she received. “Hola?” Faye shrugged, and laughter ensued. Rebellia tried her hardest not to laugh, but she couldn’t help it and seeing her fail to hold in her laughter made the people around her laugh just a little harder.
“We laugh in the ugly face of racism!” Tobias, the only red-haired guy in the crowd shouted as the laughter continued.
“People tend to act like racism doesn’t exist,” Rebellia said after gathering her composure. “Those same people are surprised when an incident happens involving racism but then they try to give another reason for the incident. The biblical curse of ham is a bunch of bullshit. Just a made up story to give little boys and girls an excuse to see why African-Americans have been treated like shit by their oppressors for so long. Its job is to justify the fucked up life black people were awarded in this world. Seriously, Noah put a curse on Canaan because his father looked at him while he was naked and drunk? That’s the reason for slavery? That’s the reason for racial inequality? That’s the reason for black on black crime and the police shootings?” Rebellia shook her head. Her scowl was pretty much tattooed on her face for the majority of the time she spent in front of the flames. “Get the fuck outta here,” she said after a short pause. “Noah has the power of a God? If he had that power, why is he dead with no sign of him returning to Earth? Why is nobody praying to Noah? Because, if he did exist, he was a mere human with an exaggerated backstory like most of them. That’s why. Truth hurts. Racism will never die as long as humans are in control of one another. It will only die after the final judgment.
“Being open about your racism makes you look so fucking stupid that it doesn’t matter what you say or how you say it. With that being said…” she reached into her pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. When she unfolded it, she stared at the words written on the paper for a second before reading it, “Dear Hoteps, being pro-black does not mean that you have to be anti-white. You are nothing but a bunch of racist, sexist, homophobic pieces of shit that pretends to be the smartest in the room when in actuality, you come across as nothing but assholes. You even talk down on your own people for not sharing your racist views, fetishes, or your obsession with appropriating the Egyptian culture. Yes, you are allowed your beliefs, and you are allowed the right to feed your propaganda to anyone who loves the taste of bullshit but you don’t have to spread hate to make yourselves feel better about yourselves. Don’t spread hate just so you can feel comfortable sleeping at night. At the end of the day, you’re doing the same thing the oppressor has done to the black community. The only problem is, you don’t have the power to go as far as the oppressor. If you have to dim someone else’s spotlight to make yourself look more valuable, it’s probably because you don’t shine bright enough. Truth hurts, doesn’t it?”
“Wow,” Maria said, eyes widened, “she’s really something.”
“…” Daphne nodded as she watched Rebellia fold the paper, and stuff it back into her pocket.
“She is,” Faye said, nodding as well, “she can go on for hours too.”
“Racist people are insane,” Rebellia said, “a better world for them is a world where their kind is on top of the world while everybody suffers. Also, showing your racism does little to nothing for racist people’s point of view in today’s overly sensitive society though, if we’re being completely h
onest. The Confederate flag was taken down in South Carolina because of what? A racist act. If that racist act would’ve never happened, the flag would probably still be where it always was. So, if you appreciate that flag, don’t get mad at other races for seeing it as a symbol of hate after the terrorist attack, blame the person who pulled the trigger. If that Nazi doesn’t go in that church and shoot all those innocent people, that symbol of hate would still be waving in the South Carolina winds, and you closeted racists would still stand for it as I knelt.
“You have people in blackface, you have people in whiteface, you have people mocking the deaths of black people, but doing those things will just make yourselves look bad. If you believe in God, how do you think God feels about your sociopathic tendencies? Will God want someone like you in his perfect and peaceful world after you die? My guess is no. No, my answer is No. There are a lot of mysteries that will be left unanswered but that one is as plain as day. God doesn’t like racism. And if you think God will take you into Heaven and accept you for the racist cunt you are after you die -in spite of the evil you cause to other people on Earth- then you are more of a lost cause than I thought.”
Rebellia paused when she saw a figure walking around the giant fire and into sight of the crowd. Vincent’s face was emotionless, aside from the single tear he wiped away with the back of his wrist. “I remember now,” he said.
That was just what Rebellia wanted to hear.
Chapter 7 (Vincent’s Story)
“I’ll tell you all about it when I see you again.”
Clarissa Sinclair was the name of my wife. We met back in high school, and I knew from the day we met in the 10th grade that she was the love of my life. For starters, she laughed at all of my jokes, even the stupid ones. Like almost every great couple, we started out as friends, but you know how that goes. It only took a month for our friendship to grow into something much bigger.
One day, I asked her to be my girlfriend with a single rose that I took from a bouquet my mother had in her room, she accepted the flower and she agreed to be my girlfriend. From that day forward, I was the happiest guy in the world.
Clara and I had our first kiss at our school’s homecoming dance. My sister was chaperoning the dance that year and she caught us in the act. Doing what every honest older sister would do, she went home and told my parents that Clara and I kissed. My mom was not too happy with that bit of news.
“Momma!” Nadine called out about five seconds after entering the house, “Vince was at the dance kissing on some little white girl!”
“Shut up!” I said, trying to cover her mouth but she wrestled me off. Nadine was about twelve years older than me, so wrestling me off was easy to her. She laughed at my persistence to keep her quiet. “Please don’t tell on me, Nadine,” I whispered.
“Okay,” Nadine said as our mom and dad walked into the living room, “I won’t tell mom or dad that you were kissing that little white girl Clara at that dance. I’m going to keep my mouth s-”
“You were doing what at that dance?” my mom bellowed.
“Oops,” Nadine laughed and sat down on the couch to watch me get chewed out. The only thing she was missing was popcorn to enjoy the show with.
“We only kissed… one time,” I tried my best not to stutter, “it was an accident.”
“…It was an accident, huh?” my momma said with her arms folded. She turned to smile at my dad, “You hear that, Gerald? It was an accident.”
My heart was pounding at this moment because when my momma smiled at something I said like that, a whooping was coming my way right after that. I think my heart stopped completely when my momma then said, “Go to your room, Boy. Your father and I will find out what to do with you.”
I jumped at the opportunity to get the hell outta there, but the only problem was, I had to walk past my mother to get to my room. I walked past her and jerked my head to the side, trying to avoid a surprise smack from her, but she didn’t attempt. Surprised, I was able to safely run to my room and close the door behind me.
I have never been more afraid in my life sitting in that room for what felt like forever. I would flinch every time I heard a sound on the other side of that door. I was just terrified of the punishment. If my momma would’ve come into that room and told me to jump in the shower really quick, I would’ve died on the spot. Thankfully that didn’t happen. When the door finally opened, my pops walked in.
“Don’t worry, Son. I’m not going to hit you,” was the first thing my Dad told me, putting me at ease instantly. My brain and heart metaphorically let out a huge sigh. They were both now at ease. “I spoke to your momma, and I got her to calm down. This is nothing serious. You’re fourteen years old now. Your first kiss was bound to happen sooner or later. But… a white girl though?”
I nodded, looking down at the floor.
“I don’t know, Son,” my pops said, scratching the back of his head, “those women got us brothers in a lot of trouble back in the day. A white girl damn near got me in trouble.”
“How?” I had to ask.
“I saw one with a nice body while your momma and I were at this restaurant up in Baltimore,” he chuckled, “if I would’ve gotten caught looking… you wouldn’t have been born, I would’ve been dead, your momma would be in jail, and your sister would’ve been in foster care. See that? A white woman would’ve done all that damage without saying a single word,” my pops and I laughed together. I could hear Nadine kiss her teeth from the other side of the door. She was waiting for me to get a whooping. “But in all seriousness, Vince,” my dad continued after we finished laughing, “there was a time when guys like us couldn’t even look in the direction of girls like that. My uncle (your grandfather’s brother) actually was murdered because he was seen with a white girl.”
“Really?” I asked, eyes wide.
“Really,” my dad nodded, “I don’t remember Uncle Dave that much, but my father told me all about him. Those were different times… well, not really because if you’re in the wrong place at the wrong time, it can still happen today. Look at the news, they’re still hanging brothers from trees nowadays. It’s a scary world out there, Vince. I just want you to know that -if you’re going to be out there dating outside your race. Now, I don’t have a problem with white folks, but I can’t speak for how they may feel about us. A bunch of racist white folks killed my uncle. They burned him alive because he was dating a white woman. I’m not trying to scare you away from this young lady, I’m just letting you know… stay prepared… it’s a cold and unforgiving world out there…”
“I will,” I shuddered at the thought of being targeted by a bunch of racist people all at once like Uncle Dave.
“You like this girl?” my pops asked, “a lot?”
I nodded, “Yeah. I mean… yes, Sir. She’s very nice.”
“How long you two been… together? You are together, right?”
“About a month now. I wanted to keep it a secret. I saw that Nadine walked out of the gym and then I kissed her. But when the kiss was over, I saw Nadine standing there with that look on her face.”
My sister always had the same look when she caught someone doing what they weren’t supposed to be doing. Her eyes were wide, her lips were pursed, and her cheeks were puffed just a little bit. She always looked so stupid. I hated that look because Nadine was always a tattletale and that look was the sign of trouble to come…
“This is a big moment… for all of us. Little Vincent having his first kiss. At least I’m guessing it was your first.”
“It was,” I nod.
“Whether it was or not, it means you’re growing up. Your momma won’t like it for that very reason, but I’ve been waiting for this moment for a while. You’re becoming a man. I know I may have scared you with that story about what happened to Uncle Dave, but this is a joyous occasion, be happy,” he shoved me a little bit.
“I am happy. I just… didn’t want y’all to know yet.”
“Well, we do. And you can�
�t change that. Just go out and enjoy your time with your girlfriend and you better hope her parents ain’t racist,” my dad laughed, stood up, patted me on the shoulder and walked out of my room. Nadine was no longer on the other side of the door. It felt good to get my dad’s blessing that night.
“That’s bogus,” I could hear Nadine say moments later, “when I had my first kiss, you didn’t react like that.”
“Nadine,” my dad said, “you’re a smart woman, so you should be aware that these are two completely different situations…”
“It’s really not, but okay,” Nadine said, “just a stupid double standard.”
Was there a double standard? Yeah. My dad was always stricter with Nadine than he was with me. I wouldn’t understand why until later on in life. That’s mostly the reason why Nadine always salivated at the idea of me getting in trouble with our parents; she wanted me to get the same treatment she got growing up.
The very next day I told Clara about what went down at home after the dance. She was completely embarrassed.
“She saw us?” she asked with a gasp. She rested her head on her desk while hiding her face with her arms, “Oh, my goodness. What to do? Is she going to try to fight me?”
I laughed, “No. She is not going to try to fight you…”
“But what if we break up and she thinks I broke your heart-?”
“We are not breaking up,” I said, rubbing her back, “well, I’m never breaking up with you.”