by H. L. Sudler
daytrippers
_______________________
H.L. Sudler
An Archer Publishing Book
Washington, D.C.
Daytrippers
Published by Archer Publishing
1315 Park Road NW, Washington, DC 20010
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2021 by H.L. Sudler
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any printed or electronic form. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
ARCHER PUBLISHING is a registered trademark of Archer Media Networks LLC.
The ARCHER PUBLISHING logo is a registered trademark of Archer Media Networks LLC.
Archer Publishing ISBN
978-1-7351993-6-8
Books by H.L. Sudler
Patriarch: My Extraordinary Journey
From Man to Gentleman
Summerville
From Man to Gentleman:
A Beginner’s Guide to Manhood
Return to Summerville
The Looking Glass: Tales of Light and Dark
CafeLiving’s Favorite Cocktails
Stories by H.L. Sudler
The Looking Glass: A New York Love Story
Blood Moon
You Won’t Forget Me
Midnight
Sandman
Night As We Know It
Wake the Dead
The only reason for time
is so that everything doesn’t happen at once.
Albert Einstein
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Daytrippers
“Negress!” screamed an angry male voice.
There was a switch against her back hard and fast. Twice. The type of switch that was a long whip of wood devoid of leaves. It cut right through the cloth and right to the skin of her back. “What you lyin’ there for like some lazy dog? Git to them chores ’fore I beat the black offen you!”
Roxanne snatched up from her nap violently, standing on her two feet strong, her fists balled automatically.
“What the…? Who the fuck are you? And what the fuck are you hitting me for, bitch?”
Roxanne stopped cold. Her eyes went from fury to confusion, swallowing in everything.
She was not in school, but outside in the blazing hot sun. Before her wasn’t a blackboard, but an outdoors that looked like something out of a history book. Before her wasn’t her teacher, Mrs. Conway, but a White man in a shapeless black hat. His shirt was white, but dirty as hell. His dark jacket and pants were dusty, creaseless and held up by button suspenders. His shoes, faded from black, were cheap, old and coated with mud.
Roxanne frowned. She turned in a circle, slowly, her eyes widening, recording.
The streets were cobblestone in spots, dirt and unpaved in others. There was not a car in sight; there were only horse drawn carriages, back to back, horseshit everywhere. The buildings were old, as if from another time, not one above five floors, all made of reddish-brown bricks. The houses had windows with colored shudders, and long cloth drapes hanging in all of them. They sat side by side, these row homes. What her grandma used to call trinity houses, or Father, Son, Holy Ghost houses, which meant they were only three floors high, a single room to each level. The sidewalks were nearly spotless and tree lined and on the corners gas lamps. The area was silent. No honking horns, no construction, no loud talking, no music, no cars, no clacking heels. Nothing much beyond the hoofs of horses trotting up and down a cobblestoned section of the road. And there were rats running in broad daylight, scurrying purposefully to and from garbage heaps.
What the fuck? Roxanne thought.
But when she turned again, she was punched hard across her jaw, and when she opened her eyes, she was on the ground. Only then did she notice what she was wearing. A long gown, black, that went to her feet and up to her neck. She wore black ankle high boots that were laced and beneath her dress underwear that felt like a whole other dress.
She looked up and circled around her were a group of White men, all with hats, all with moustaches, all lanky and dirty with anger in their eyes.
One of them said, “Get up, nigga.”
Roxanne touched her skin, to the swelled side of her face. She did not know what the hell was going on, but she had already decided she was going to break this motherfucker’s jaw the first chance she got.
It was exam week at Franklin Charter Academy. The high school was abuzz, students and faculty alike. Wired with studying, wired with exam prep.
The entire week was scheduled carefully, something this downtown Philadelphia charter school took seriously. The middle of October, as did the middle of May, held a single week devoid of classes. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays were for actual testing. Tuesdays and Thursdays were for make-up exams and studying. Even the testing itself had a rigid schedule. Mondays were Algebra, Trig, Calculus, Beginning Statistics, and Fine Arts (which included Music, Dance, Theater, and Visual Arts). Wednesdays were for Civics, History, Biology, and Chemistry. Fridays capped off with English, World Languages, Technology and Engineering, Business Education, and Physical Education (both written and physical examinations).
By the end of the week, students and teachers would be exhausted. This year, this October, had one day left of exams. By tomorrow afternoon, everybody would be bolting from the school and toward home, or to some place that served alcohol, for rest and relaxation.
“Jesus!” Roxanne Denbry exclaimed as she entered Gramercy Park on Cherry Street, about a block from the school. “I can’t wait until tomorrow!”
She marched over to her boyfriend David Aaron, who was sitting lazily against a tree with his eyes shut.
“You know I’m a Jew and we don’t believe in Jesus.”
Roxanne put her hands on her waist and tried to stifle a smile. “You are so inappropriate.”
David opened his eyes and grinned slyly. He looked over at Roxanne, whom he called Roxi with a great amount of affection. They’d been dating a while now, and he was already crazy excited about asking her to senior prom next year.
“You like it when I’m inappropriate,” he said silkily, looking into Roxanne’s eyes. She was so beautiful, with her long black hair, her deep brown skin, smooth, glowing, and her shapely figure, front, back and sides. They hadn’t done anything serious yet, except kiss, and once she let David bury his face in her breasts. But it was in the air, them getting together. The longer he looked at her, and the longer she looked back, they both knew their resolve was crumbling with each passing day.
“Come sit on my lap.”
“No, David. I’m not going to sit on your lap,” Roxanne said. She had a full smile on her face now, and he was blushing a little.
“Why? What do you think is going to happen?”
“I know what’s going to happen.”
David licked his lips and leaned toward her a little. He said lowly, “Giddy up, giddy up, giddy up.”
Roxanne shook her head. “You are so nasty.”
David pat the grass next to him. “Come sit next to papa.”
Roxanne sighed and went to David. She threw her backpack on the grass and sat on it. “Papa better keep his hands to himself, that’s what I know.”
“I just want to hold you.”
Roxanne looked at David, then crooked her head. Her boyfriend had short brown hair, thick e
yebrows, very hazel eyes, and a hard, square jaw. When he smiled, his straight white teeth were on full display. When he smiled, Roxanne’s heart melted. “Why are you so handsome?”
“My dad,” David said, plainly. They both laughed. “I’m the spitting image.”
Roxanne turned fully toward David.
“You understand why I don’t want to do it just yet, right?”
“You want to wait.”
“I don’t want to get pregnant.”
“Who says you’re going to get pregnant?”
“With my luck…and with yours. It’s just…if it happened, it wouldn’t be the end of the world, but it sure as hell wouldn’t be good. We’ve both got plans. And if a baby came along…”
“It would mess up everything.”
“Yeah.”
David sighed. “Can I get a kiss at least?”
“You can get as many kisses as you want,” Roxanne whispered, leaning close for David to kiss her cheek and then take her in his arms.
“Hey, hey! None of that here!” they heard. When they looked up, they saw it was Bart Tennison, with his thick black hair and a light beard coming in already. He had on a navy blue polo with the Franklin Charter Academy logo on the tit, a kite. “Leave some room for the Holy Ghost!”
David laughed. “Shut up, Tennison.”
“You guys ready for lunch? I’m starving. I just spent all morning in study hall for my English and Latin exams tomorrow.”
“That’s nothing,” Roxanne said. “I was in a cram session this morning for my Business Admin courses. My head is ready to explode.”
“Hey, Bart, you ready for lunch?”
Behind Tennison was Perry Watson. He was an athletic African American, who played on FCA’s softball and wrestling teams. The fact that he was so handsome was offset by the fact that he was so quiet and mild-mannered. All his noise came when he was on the field or the mat.
“Guys, I hope you don’t mind. I invited Perry to come with us to get lunch.”
“No, we don’t mind,” Roxanne said. “Perry’s one of us. What’s up, boy?”
“Just trying to survive to tomorrow afternoon.”
“What are you prepping for?” David asked. Bart and Perry sat on the grass in front of David and Roxanne.
“I’ve got an English Lit exam, all essay questions. I’ve got a Spanish exam, all vocabulary. And I’ve got an Engineering exam tomorrow, plus my Phys Ed fitness exam tomorrow.”
“Damn!” Roxanne said.
“I know, right,” Perry said, rubbing his eyes. “If college is this hard, I swear to God I’m seriously considering the Army.”
Roxanne kicked Perry’s foot. “Stop fronting. You’ll be fine and you know it.”
“My eyes feel like they’re about to fall outta my damn head.”
“Well, I’ve got some good news,” David announced. “Janey said that next Saturday she was thinking of going up to Bucks County for a hay ride to pick apples or pumpkins or something. She wants us to come along.”
“That would be nice,” Bart said. “You should come too, Perry.”
“Will Janey care?”
David shook his head and made a face. “Not at all. She’s the most down-to-earth rich girl I know. And if she wants us to go, I say let’s go. I think they’re serving food there too.”
“Speaking of food, what are we eating?” Bart asked. “I’ll have to get back to one of my study groups soon.”
“How about we eat at the pizzeria around the corner? We can get a whole large pie and split it.”
“Pizza sounds good,” Perry said, but then yawned exhausted.
“Pizza it is,” Roxanne agreed. Then she turned to David and kissed him on the cheek.
“Get a room!” someone yelled shrill, and they all turned to see a group of girls standing nearby in the park.
David hugged Roxanne tighter. “Always good to see you too, Missy.”
Missy Alexander was a statuesque blonde, pretty, svelte, popular, and the obvious queen bee to the hive of girls that flanked her.
“I hope you’re using protection,” Missy said, her voice full of saccharin.
Roxanne frowned, her voice indignant. “Um, how is my using protection any of your business?”
Missy put her hand to her chest. “Oh, I wasn’t talking to you, Roxanne. I was talking to poor David. I’m just concerned. I wouldn’t want him to catch anything nasty.”
Roxanne slipped out of David’s arms and stood up. Her face grew darker, her eyebrows knitted together. “What exactly are you trying to say, girl?”
Perry looked at the group of girls, then at Bart. “What’s going on here?”
Missy threw back her hair. “What you’re witnessing Perry is what we call an anomaly. The daughter of a former Philadelphia basketball player—that somehow wound up accepted into Franklin Charter Academy—is attempting to use her brain.”
“Knock it off,” Bart said.
Roxanne huffed. “I don’t know what you trying to say, bitch, but I live in the same neighborhood as you!”
“Someone needs a geography lesson,” Missy announced, turning to the five girls behind her. “Waterfront is not Society Hill, dear. Waterfront is where all the rats live, if you can remember your morning walk—”
“That’s enough,” David yelled, grabbing Roxanne’s wrist before she started over to Missy.
“And stand down!” Perry barked at Missy.
“We don’t want any trouble here,” Bart said.
“Oh, my,” Missy continued, looking over at the guys. “Roxanne’s milkshake brings all the boys to the yard.”
“Leave,” Bart said, firmly. He stood up and looked at the girls. “All of you. Now!”
“Oh, Bart,” Missy said. “Stop trying to act like you’re not…one of us.”
“Piss off,” Bart growled, his face reddening.
“Hold my bag, girl,” Missy joked, passing her backpack off to one of the hive. “I think I’m about to get into a catfight.”
“Everybody shut up!” Perry yelled, standing beside Bart.
Missy squinted her eyes and looked from Bart to Perry and back to Bart again. “Is there love in the air yet, Bart?”
“That’s enough,” David said again. He stepped into the middle of the crowd and pointed to Missy and her hive. “You, you, you—all of you!—go! Now!” He turned to Perry, Bart and Roxanne. “The three of you come with me.”
“Don’t run away, David,” Missy said, seductively.
David turned to her. “Why are you always causing trouble?”
“I’m sorry,” Missy said, suddenly quiet and remorseful. “I just don’t want to see you make a mistake.”
“A mistake?”
“With Miss Jenny from the block here.”
“Are you trying to slut-shame me, Miss Thang?” Roxanne asked over David’s shoulder.
Missy met her gaze. “I thought the whole point of being a slut was that you had no shame.”
“I’m going to kick this bitch’s ass right now, you know that right?” Roxanne said to Perry and Bart.
“Slow down, slow down.” David held up his arms to stop Roxanne from getting around him.
“David, I don’t know how you put up with this…thang,” Missy said, mocking Roxanne.
Roxanne pointed to Missy. “You know what, bitch, if you want to see my black ass, just say so!”
Missy turned to her friends and said, “Ladies…one minute Miss America, the next Cookie Lyon from Empire. You just can’t take the girl anywhere.”
Missy’s friends laughed.
“Don’t let these clothes fool you, girl. I will come over there and beat your ass but good.”
“Oh, I know you will, girlfriend,” Missy said, snapping her fingers, her other hand on her hip, her head weaving back and forth.
“I think we’ve all said enough,” Bart remarke
d.
“I know, Tennison,” Missy said, “but how on earth are you going to get her to shut up? Maybe if you put a muzzle on that dog…”
Roxanne huffed and began taking off her sweater. “Bitch, that’s enough. Fuck this and fuck you!”
David wrapped his arms around Roxanne to hold her back. “That’s enough, Missy. Get out of here, before I come over there.”
Roxanne struggled in David’s arms, her eyes on Missy. Missy shook her head slowly, her eyes with pity on David. Then she looked at Roxanne. Looked her up and down with condescension.
“Losers, all of them,” she said.
“Melissa!”
Missy turned, rolled her eyes, and raised an eyebrow. “And now, ladies and gentlemen, a word from our patron saint, Janey Hightower. Otherwise known as Miss Goody Two Shoes.”
“Melissa, why are you here?” Hightower asked. She was dressed smartly in a sky blue button-up sweater, jeans, and knee-high boots. Her backpack was beside her on the grass at her feet, and her shoulder length blonde hair blew in the light October breeze.
“Missy. Everyone calls me Missy.”
“Melissa,” Janey said more firmly.
“Yes, Jane,” Missy shot back full of sass.
“Why don’t you leave them alone.”
“And why do you care about this losers’ club? Oh, let me guess. It makes you feel better about yourself to be hanging out with the common folk.”
Janey flashed her eyebrows, smiled, and looked down to her feet a moment. “You seem to forget something, Melissa. My father knows your father. They belong to the same club. Play golf together out on City Avenue.”
“And?”
“What if your father found out you were here causing trouble?”
“My father won’t do anything to me.”