Persons Unknown

"White's Only," the sign above the only water cooler in the small dining dive outside highway 29 firmly stated. Outside another sign proudly proclaimed "We Serve Colored Takeout Only," this dining establishment was no doubt more progressive than others for 1960 America. Tables were arranged along the windows inside, and a long serving bar for the burgers, sandwiches, fries, and shakes was occupied to the max. Seated on one of the stools in front of the bar was a blonde worth catching, Terry. She was adorned in a red evening dress, shoulder cut and drifting just below the knees, patterned with yellow flowers. Her hair spiraled up elegantly, twisted to a blunt point. She was nervous.

"Terry, you just need to calm down," said Rich, a man in his mid-twenties, dark haired and dashing in his black suit. "I know the people at this party and they are going to love you, simply love you."

"I don't know Rich. I just don't know."

Motioning over the bar to the overweight and sweating server, Rich smiled to Terry, "You care too much about little things, Terry."

The server stepped up to Rich, his apron spotted with grease and condiments, "What'll be?"

"I'll have another Coke. You need a refill, Terry?" she shook her head. "Okay, just a refill for me then."

Angrily, the server growled, "You have got be kidding. I can't believe how many of these people can't read…"

Rich and Terry swiveled their heads and caught what was upsetting the server so. Struggling step by step with a slumped over child in tow, an African American woman and her son shuffled towards the water cooler. "Hey!" the server barked, silencing the racket of the dining room, "Can't you read?" His greasy finger pointed to the "Whites Only" sign over the water cooler. Every eye was on the woman and the child, and a feather hitting the floor would have made an echo.

Shocked and embarrassed, she stuttered, "I am surely sorry. My son doesn't feel well, and we been on the road for a while. I just need to get him a little water…"

"I can't let you use that, rules are rules. When are your kind going to learn that?" Several heads around the diner nodded.

Terry whispered to Rich, "Do something Rich. There's no reason why she can't give some water to that sick child."

Rich hissed, "Stay out of it, Terry."

Trembling, the African American woman of interest inside the small shabby diner off of 29 said, "Let me buy a water off you then."

"Nah, I don't serve no trouble makers here. You should have asked first."

Terry squeezed Rich's forearm, "Rich…"

His returning glare stated, with no doubt, for Terry to drop it. Momentarily, she held her grip on his forearm, and then loosened, turning her eyes downward.

The woman with the sick child tried again, "Really, I will pay. I got money. We not around from here. I don' t know how far we will need to drive before we find another place…"

The server said, "You're a bit slow, too. I said no and it stays no. I don't go back on my word. Now do I have to call the police?"

The child was definitely not well, his eyes drooped and his mouth softly hung open. Drops of sweat were beading on his small forehead, and had his mother not supported him, he would probably fall by his own power. The woman said, "But my child is…"

"Lady, one more word and I will call the police. Get on out of here."

For the first time, she noticed the many eyes on her, and she smiled contritely for her crime. "I apologize to you good people. I don't want to… well," she braced her son up and turned him to the door, "Come on Jerome. Let's leave these good people to their meals."

Like a shamed criminal, she hid her face as best she could while she exited with her son. The typical low murmur after such an incident began to churn, and the server pushed his chest out with the bravado of a war hero, "Those colored people." And as if nothing had happened, he said to Rich, "Refill of Coke coming up."

Terry stepped from her stool and Rich asked, "Restroom?"

"No," she said. "If you people aren't going to help her then I am." She popped the top from her paper cup and poured the remaining contents of ice into her plate.

Rich said, "Terry, don't do something stupid." She marched towards the water cooler, and Rich said, "Terry!"

Ignoring Rich, she continued to the cooler. Rich noticed that no one cared; only he knew why she was going to the cooler. The inhabitants of the diner had no interest in an attractive, young white woman who wanted to fill her paper cup from the cooler. Sitting there, only he watched her step out into the parking lot. Outside, Terry flagged the woman down just as she was about to drive the 54 Ford sedan out of the lot. The car stopped, and Terry approached the open window.

The worried mother said, "I don't want any trouble…"

"Hush," Terry said as she shoved the paper cup into the driver's window. Confused, the mother's eyes questioned Terry, who said, "Take it quick, before someone sees. It's water. Topped off."

With trembling hands the mother took the cup, "Thank you."

"I hope he gets better." Terry turned and briskly walked back to the diner and found Rich exiting the door. He firmly gripped her upper arm as she watched the mother and son drive away; she could barely hear Rich scolding her for her actions.

"Get in!" he said.

"What?" she asked.

"I said go get in the car before you embarrass me out here. What are you thinking?"

"Nothing," she said.

"Nothing sounds right; I think that's what is rolling around in your head, a big bunch of nothing. Now get in the car."

Once seated in Rich's 59 Thunderbird convertible, snow white in color with the top down, Rich said, "Terry, I'm not upset. It's just there are rules for a reason. We have to abide by those rules. You can't just go off and spit in the face of those rules whenever you want."

"It's a stupid rule, Rich. That child was sick, plain to see. She didn't ask for anything out of the way."

"You can't go letting a black person use white facilities, Terry. Everyone knows that. It's just not clean. Would you want to know a white kid used a cooler or a restroom after a colored person had been all over it?"

"We breathe the same air, Rich."

Rich pulled the auto into the highway and sped up the road.