by Tiana Laveen
She knew I was tired of her shit after a while. All we did was argue. Regardless of what anyone thinks of me, I don’t like to argue, especially in my own home. I had that shit while I was growin’ up, and I’ll be damned if it’ll continue under my own roof. I left her. I told her she could keep the house and everything, just leave me alone. I think she was able to get pregnant the whole time but was sneakin’ birth control pills. As soon as she realized she was losin’ me, she thought that would bring me back. All I wanted was my daughter at that point, not her, and that made her even angrier,” Aaron said.
“Do you have problems trusting women, Aaron?” Dr. Owen asked.
“No. I also never have the urge to hit ’em, kick ’em, smack ’em – none of that. I think that’s an excuse some abusers use. That’s weak in my book. I go after the people that fucked me over, not the ones that remind me of someone from the past.”
Aaron fidgeted, as he craved a cigarette.
“So what has the entire Jewish nation done to you, and Illegal immigrants, as well as African-Americans? You say you go after particular people, but your track record proves otherwise,”
Dr. Owen asked.
“You can’t sit there and tell me that I’ve hurt random Jew trash, Blacks, Spics, Chinks –you name it. I haven’t. I’m not responsible for what some of my other brethren do, and by the way, that’s a reputation from the past. We operate very differently now, and I was never part of that. This nation’s bein’
run by the Jewish media, and they want everyone to believe that we’re all a bunch of ingrates runnin’ after ’em, tryin’ to kill ’em.
The Jews are greedy, big-nosed liars and want everyone to feel sorry for ’em while they collect all the money. The Blacks and Illegals get all the jobs because of Affirmative Action and cheap labor while hard-workin’ men like me get skipped over and have to work twice as hard just to get noticed. Most Blacks don’t even go to work, and if they do, it’s not on time, and they act like the job’s owed to ’em.”
“These retarded-ass Illegals don’t even realize they’re the new slave trade. They’ll do anything for a dollar, includin’
destroy our country so they can go to Old Country Buffet and bring their entire family over here to live in a one-bedroom apartment. They don’t learn a lick of English! They get a fake ID and Social Security number. They come over here and rape our women and little girls! Do you know most of the recent sexual assaults on White women haven’t been from White men, but Latinos and Blacks?” A vein in Aaron’s neck pulsated as his voice escalated. “I fuck with the mother fuckers who fuck with me!” Aaron’s eyebrows furrowed as he leaned forward out of his seat, the pupils in his eyes dilated.
“Where’s this coming from, Aaron? Who’s telling you these things, and why do you think you have to stop it?” Dr. Owen asked coolly.
“It’s comin’ from my heart,” Aaron said calmly. “I’m tellin’
myself these things, and the proof’s out there, just look around.
If I don’t stop it and wait for the next guy to stand up for me, then I’m lazy and fallin’ down on the job. Tomorrow’s already too late.” Aaron slammed his fist on Dr. Owen’s desk.
“Aaron, you told me before, that you were old-fashioned when it comes to dating.”
“What does that have to do with what we’re talkin’ about right now?” Aaron said with frustration in his voice.
“I’m getting to that. What old-fashioned, beautiful woman, which is what you say you really want, would allow for the element that you’re involved in to be around her children if she wants them safe? Let’s say that you really are doing the right thing. It still brings an element of danger with it, and it takes you away from your family into circles in which you could be badly injured, incarcerated, like you are now, or even killed. You can’t have it both ways. You’ll have to make a sacrifice. Our time’s up. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Dr. Owen stopped the session abruptly, and turned around as he pushed the buzzer. He knew that Aaron was a walking volcano. He wanted to leave him alone with his thoughts, filled with emotions. Usually, he would work him up then help him come back down, but today he was taking a different approach. Aaron’s heart thumped in his chest.
He stood up, anger oozing out of his pores. He felt violated.
“You got me, Dr. Owen,” Aaron said quietly. “You pulled open my wounds, and now I have to figure out how to make the bleeding stop. Very good. This will be the first and last time, so enjoy it.” The guards handcuffed Aaron and took him back to his cell.
* * *
One month later…
Dear Melissa,
I’ve enjoyed reading all of your letters over the past two months. They have, at times, been lifesavers. I’m going through a transformation of some sort. I still hold true to my convictions, but my approach is changing. I’ve been allowed to fellowship with my brethren, but this has caused problems as well as benefits. I continue to have my weekly basketball game with a small group of them as I always have had, but now I’m allowed to eat and fellowship with them too. However, there’s someone here vying for my position. He attempted to rally a smaller sect to jump me when I was allowed back into General Population.
There was an attempted shanking. Luckily, the guards saw it, so I suffered no consequences. It reminded me that times are changing once again. My beliefs are at odds with the new members who wish to run out into the world and create mayhem simply to do so. There’s no organization, rules, or regulations.
They want to get a tattoo before completing the tasks at hand.
All the tattoos have special meaning: when you get married, have your first child, do your first jump, and, yes, kill your first prey. You have to earn these stripes.
I’m a warrior forced to spar with lunatics. I can’t afford to get into fights, or my sentence will be lengthened. I’m so filled with anger right now. I know I’m volatile. I really wish I could see a picture of you. Thank you for the description, though. I read it all the time and can tell you’re beautiful, inside and out.
I’ve received other pen pal messages, but you’re by far the one I enjoy the most. You seem sincere. I understand that because of my incarceration, you’re not willing to converse with me once I’m released, but please know that your friendship is very important to me, and I appreciate it. I understand with your career you can’t exactly date a convict and have it go over easily with the administration at your vocation.
To address your previous questions, I’ll briefly give you some background that’ll hopefully shed some light. I’m not a racist. A racist is someone who believes that their race is better than another. What I am is a purist. I love my race. My ethnicity is Italian and German. This sounds so cliché, but it’s true, I do actually have a couple of Black friends on the outside. I don’t go to their houses or anything like that, but they’re good men I enjoy speaking with.
You wanted to know how and why I adopted the views I have.
I did because of what I grew up seeing and what I continue to see. Our race is being destroyed, Melissa. There’ll be no White people left in America by the year 3000 at the rate we’re going.
It’s disconcerting.
You asked me about my livelihood. I have a BA in Business Administration, a BS in Biology, and an Associate’s Degree in Journalism. It sounds strange, doesn’t it? I got the BS
in Biology and the BA in Business Administration, as well as the Journalism degree, so that I could start a business that focuses on White male preservation. The business would disseminate information online, in magazines, and through public speaking engagements of some of the top doctors in the country that are part of our movement. My background in Biology helped show me how different species behave in regards to separation and mating, which is important, especially as it pertains to the current trend of interracial dating and marriage.
Many of our White women continue to buy the hype of the Mandingo warrior, and so many Black men want to get back at their former slave mas
ters by having sex with a White woman.
This alone would be tolerable if there was no procreation, but there is procreation, and it’s producing children that are genetically poisoned and mangled. It’s creating a new race of people who will have no idea where they came from. If God wanted the races to mix, he would’ve put us closer together geographically. Instead, we were all separate.
Anyway, I’m excited to be able to speak to you on the phone.
I look forward to calling you.
It’ll only be for ten minutes, but that’s better than nothing at all.
Regards,
Aaron Pike
Mia reread the letter. Aaron was scheduled to call her that evening. She was unsure if she should stop the charade. She did not know, from the depths of her soul, why she misled him and continued to do so. She knew that if she let him know she was Black, their correspondence would be over. He was speaking to her so candidly. She wanted to know more. She put on make-up just to answer the phone. She felt silly as she saw her skewed reflection in the toaster. Her bright red lips stuck out like sore thumbs. She licked her tongue over them, creating instant gloss.
Her phone rang. She jumped, looked at her clock, stood up, and answered the phone.
“Do you accept this collect call from Holman Correctional Facility in Atmore, Alabama?" came the automated voice.
“Yes,” Mia answered breathlessly.
“Hello, Melissa,” came a deep voice, talking slowly with a Southern drawl.
“Hi – Aaron,” Mia responded with anticipation.
“I’ve waited so long to talk to you. It was like pullin’ teeth to get ’em to agree to it. I s’pose my good behavior helped,” Aaron said, tugging on the last word with his thick dialect.
“I’m glad,” Mia said shyly.
“You have a pretty voice,” Aaron responded. “I saved all your letters and reread ’em all the time. I look forward to the poetry you said was comin’.”
“Yes, you’re welcome, and thank you,” Mia slowly sat down at her kitchen table.
“You’re shy,” Aaron said, cracking a smile on the other end of the phone. “I figured you were. Daughter of a preacher and a school teacher, you’re like an innocent little angel. Your letters are so open, but now that we’re on the phone, you’re speechless,”
Aaron smiled. “I want you to know that you can ask me anything you want.”
“Where are your headquarters?” Mia blurted.
“Pardon me?” Aaron asked, suddenly confused.
“You said in one of your letters last week that when you get out, you were going to the headquarters for a meeting. I was just curious where that is.”
“Oh,” Aaron smiled. “Why? You wanna come with me?” he teased. Mia smiled nervously.
“I just wanted you to tell me a little more.”
“In Michigan – our headquarters is in Michigan. This isn’t top secret information. You can find it online, so it’s not like I’m lettin’ some cat outta the bag. There’s a misconception that Nazis, Skinheads, KKK members, and the like are toothless rednecks that drive pickup trucks and act like folks from the movie “Deliverance.” Now sure, some of us are just that, but many of us are like you and me. We have degrees, common sense, morals, and values and don’t go around shootin’ anything that moves.” Aaron chewed on the end of a straw. “What do you have on?” he whispered. He rubbed his shoulder and leaned into the phone, waiting desperately for Mia to tell him in explicit detail.
“Uh, I have on my robe,” she smiled.
“Describe the robe for me. Is anything underneath it? I’m sorry, Melissa. Am I outta line?
It’s just that…”
“No, that’s OK. Uh, I have on my bra and panties underneath it. The robe’s red.” Mia said, as she put her hand under the thin red satin and caressed her breasts.
“Red, that’s my favorite color,” Aaron smiled. “What color are your bra and panties?” he asked, whispering to the point where he was barely audible.
“Um, they’re red too – red lace.” Melissa breathed deeply into the phone as she rubbed her breasts harder.
“Melissa. You’re so beautiful. I can tell. What color are your cookies? Brown or pink?” Aaron asked as he looked around before he slid his hand down the front of his pants.
“Um, they’re light brown,” Mia answered as she licked her lips.
“Are you bald, trimmed, or hairy?” Aaron asked roughly, rubbing his fingers along his shaft, making it thicken with each stroke.
“Bald. I shave it off,” Mia answered as she slid her fingers into her panties. Aaron’s deep voice and Southern drawl made her soak herself.
“Mmm, that’s perfect. I’d love to bury my face between your thighs. OK, I’m gonna stop,” Aaron said as he pulled his hand out of his pants and tried to catch his breath.
“But – why?” Mia asked, quickly taking her hand away from her vagina.
“Because you told me you just want friendship. I’ve already gone too far. I do thank you, though, for humorin’ me. I’m not gonna lie. I’m so horny. I think about you all the time. When you don’t have any female companionship, it gets very lonely.
Let’s talk about somethin’ else.” Aaron took a deep breath and wanted a cigarette in the worst way.
“Oh – um – OK. Do you have any questions for me?” Mia asked, readjusting herself in her seat.
“Just one,” Aaron said, lighting a cigarette and blowing smoke rings into the air.
“What?” Mia asked.
“If I can give you everything a woman would want, why won’t you even consider me? You already told me you’re not seein’ anyone or are married. You don’t have any children. You like my physical description. Despite our different views on politics and government, we have a lot in common. Is it my beliefs? That’s the only part you haven’t said much about. That must be it. Why do you think what I believe’s so wrong, Melissa?”
“I – I just don’t hate people, Aaron. I don’t believe that the White race will be erased. I think there’s beauty in all races and that all races do bad things.” Mia’s Southern dialect grew thicker as she discussed the topic. It was emotional and hard to keep herself calm.
“I believe that people can love whomever they wish, Aaron, and that neither you nor anyone else has the right to tell them otherwise.” Mia crossed her arms.
“I see,” Aaron said, taking a drag on his cigarette. “What if I told you that I think all the races are beautiful, too?”
“I’d think you’re just saying that to appease me,” Mia smiled.
Aaron laughed.
“Maybe so, but actually, I’ve seen pretty women from all races. I just wouldn’t be with ’em in a romantic sense. It’s against everything I believe. We’re not s’posed to mix. I need to know if you’d be willin’ to allow me to teach you more of my point of view. I invite you to teach me yours. Can we make that deal then see where this goes? I think you like me, Melissa. I think that over time, you may feel differently about me. I want you to think about me tonight because I’ll be thinkin’ about you.
Outta all the women I get letters from, I’m most interested in you.”
“Aaron, times up!” screamed a guard.
“OK, Sweetness. I have to go.” He took one last draw on his cigarette.
“OK. Thank you for calling,” Mia said, fighting back tears of anger.
“Don’t forget to send me the poems. Talk to you soon.” The phone went dead. Mia slammed the phone down. She repeated in her mind, “I just wouldn’t be with ’em in a romantic sense.”
She shook her head and wiped her face. “But you just lusted after a Black woman, Aaron,” she said aloud as she walked into her bedroom and slammed the door.
* * *
Two months later…
“Aaron, you’re changing whether you want to admit it or not.
You’re softening, and I don’t mean that in a bad way. The saying goes, ‘You can’t teach an old dog new tricks.’ However, you’r
e beating the odds,” Dr. Owen said, smiling.
“When you see your own turn on you, it has that affect.”
Aaron looked off into the distance.
“What happened?” Dr. Owen asked with genuine concern.
“I told you about this new kid here who’s tryin’ to replace me.
He’s drawn more of ’em to his side. I’m now considered weaker because I only wanna use violence as a last resort. No one’s listenin’. All these guys are twenty-five and under. They don’t know their ass from a hole in the wall. They can’t fight, either.
They have to have a weapon, or they’ll lose.” Aaron balled up his fists.
“How are you responding to this?”
“I made some calls to get some things settled when I get out.
I’m startin’ a new chapter with the old principles. I still have respect in here, but it’s more outta fear rather than reverence.
Luckily some of my old friends have rallied around me durin’
this time period,” Aaron added.
“How’s your relationship going with your pen pal, Melissa?”
“I like her, a lot,” Aaron grinned.
“Is she a Nazi as well?” Dr. Owen asked.
“No, she’s just a good Southern Christian girl who doesn’t know what I’m talkin’ about half the time,” Aaron laughed. “I think she’s Italian. She doesn’t agree with me on many things.
She’s teachable, though. She’s open.”
“Aaron, instead of trying to teach her, maybe you could learn from her,” Dr. Owen suggested.
“I s’pose I can in some ways. I can tell she’s very sheltered. I like that she’s so sweet and helpful. She’s what I was lookin’ for.
The way she talks about civil and human rights has made me see a few things differently. I still don’t agree with her views entirely, but I’m able to see a side that I didn’t before. I wanna be with her,” Aaron said.