"Is this going to be a regular thing with you?" I complained, dusting off my clothes, "Throwing me into matters with no warning?"
"I find it helps to gain a better sense of a person. See your true reaction."
I glared at the man who was smirking deviously as he stood there, observing me, "You say that as if you don't trust me to be upfront."
"You're misinterpreting my words, Gerald," Tom returned without a hint of having taken offense, "Two people could spend all day conversing and not know much about each other. However, experiencing just a small thing together will reveal a great amount," he said, my brow furrowing while trying to keep up, "Would you rather me waste time with talking for an hour or simply interject an experience and learn just as much or more within a few minutes?"
"I see what you mean..." I mumbled. He was right: I had jumped to a conclusion. The values ingrained through my upbringing had gotten the better of me. It would probably be the appropriate time to apologize, but I was terrible with such things so I simply let my sullen demeanor speak for me.
It seemed to be enough as my teacher stepped out of the alley and into the streets of downtown Hot Springs, "Come on, then. I'd like to see that you are up to speed."
I followed him, our introduction into the night life going unnoticed by the other individuals situated sparingly along the sidewalks and coming in and out of the various businesses still open for the evening festivities, "Where is it we are headed if we're not meant to perform in the presence of others?"
"I have a plan. Let there be no worrying, Gerald," Tom smiled, strolling alongside me, eyes forward, "How have your studies come?"
"Well. I feel confident in performing each of the spells you laid out," I answered, hiding a smirk of my own at recalling the event at work, which wasn't hard to do as soon as my eyes fell to rest on a sign propped out in front of a club.
Maxine's Proudly Presents
Charlie Parker,
Bebop Extraordinaire
"You like jazz?" Tom asked curiously upon seeing me staring at the board.
"No...I mean, I don't dislike-"Ugh! "It's just a coworker had said something about this place today."
"It's an odd thing to become so somber over," my companion observed.
I glanced over at him, sighing in defeat at his knowing smile, "Just a racist asshole is all. He invited me to join him and his good 'ole boys for the evening."
"Good 'ole boys?" the wizard raised an eyebrow, not understanding the slang.
"Rednecks, small-minded country racists and bigots who are viewed as upstanding by their ignorant peers," I explained.
"I see," Tom looked thoughtfully at the sign for a moment before stepping towards the door behind it.
"What are-" I clamped my mouth shut as he opened the door and went inside. Instead of questioning him, I decided to follow, knowing his whole 'actions speak louder than words' philosophy.
The room inside was smoky, the lighting scattered about to be accentuated in spots of interest such as the stage at the end of the way and above the bar, with small lamps on each table around. It was busy, largely occupied by African descended individuals including the man performing his music. Aside from myself and Tom, there was one other group of whites in the club...Allan and three other men. They were situated near the stage, over toward the right, evil grins plastered on their faces and their table littered with empty mugs. Great. Not only were they racist idiots, they were now drunk racist idiots.
I walked with Tom up to the bar on our left, the sight of us drawing a concerned look from the tender who approached us carefully, "What can I get for you?"
"Just pop for us," Tom answered.
"I beg your pardon?" the man asked quizzically.
"Coke. He means coke," I laughed, "And that's fine for him, but I'd like something with a head."
The barkeep nodded and stepped away. I turned, realizing Tom's gaze was resting on me, his face with a look I couldn't place, "What?" I asked.
"Nothing," he stated plainly, his eyes fluttering oddly as we both looked back to the man who set a bottle of coke and a mug of beer in front of us. Was he...was he peeved that I didn't accept him ordering for me?
"So," he spoke up after a swift drink, his neck twisting slightly to show where his attention lay, "This friend of yours was easy to spot."
My gaze went with his to the men in the corner, "Yeah, I'd never be friend to someone like that."
Tom's face was on me again with a mischievous smile, "We should say hello."
I scoffed, "Are you insane? That's only going to start trouble."
There was suddenly a loud laugh from the group, accompanied by the use of a vulgar racial slur, aimed at the musician. A few others in the club glanced over at the men who kept laughing and speaking incoherently in their huddle. Charlie, the man on stage, didn't hesitate from performing though it was clear they had drawn his attention as well.
"Then you're perfectly fine with turning the other way and letting them continue to mistreat the minority?" Tom inquired, his tone plain yet accusatory.
I looked from the men back to him, my brain instantly putting together that he was comparing this instance to his own goal in liberating magical folk from forceful secrecy, much as I had already done earlier when the topic of equality of all races and sexes had entered my mind. Our cause needs conviction amongst its members, my brain repeated his words. "Let's go say hello then," I agreed, lifting myself from the stool and making my way toward them.
Doing my best to walk around the back of the club so that we disturbed as few people as possible with our movement, my heart worried with what Tom was anticipating being the outcome of this little test of principle. I, for one, pictured my ass getting beat by these self-important apes. They were all larger than both of us and from what I could tell, my tiny bit of muscle tone made me brawnier than Tom. Meaning without the use of magic, we were screwed. Glancing at the wizard with his smug expression, I knew that he wasn't about to let anyone take him down without a fight.
"Well, look who showed!" Allan bellowed, holding up a nearly empty mug as I neared, "Thought fairy boy had plans?"
"Yes, and unfortunately I still managed to bump into you," I spoke as condescendingly as I could.
The man's jovial attitude fell, along with that of his companions, "I done tried to be nice to you and you been nothing but rude. What the hell do you and your little boyfriend here want?"
I paused. What did I want? I had only approached them to prove a point to Tom who had tilted his head, waiting for what I would do next. My gaze went from him the man still singing on stage as I honestly hadn't a clue how to respond. Allan actually spoke again, making it easier for me to decide.
"Aw, I see what's going on," his eyes followed mine to the African American musician, "You're one of those morons supporting the inferiors. You're just a little n-"
Without a thought, I shut the man up before he could throw yet another inexcusable insult by grabbing one of the empty yet heavy glasses on the table and slamming it into his skull. Allan's hands flew to the top of his head, becoming sticky and red with the blood that had started flowing from where I had struck him. If it hadn't been for his inebriated state, I was sure he would have gotten up immediately to fight. However, instead, he sort of cursed under his breath and awkwardly stumbled to the ground after tripping over his own chair in an attempt to stand.
His friends, on the other hand, removed themselves from their seats and stomped toward Tom and I, the both of us taking a step backward in preparation for their next move. My heart rate picked up. Alright, okay, what the fuck now? I looked to my ally in the brief seconds before the fight could pick up. His expression remained unchanged, his arms casually at his sides, completely unconcerned. It was the sensation of a fist on my jaw that brought my mind back to protecting myself.
You know what? Fuck this.
I reached my hands up, taking hold of his forearm before he could rear it back into another punch. Mumbling the incantation under my breath, I made use of the incendio charm, grasping onto him as the unreleased magic burned through his skin. He growled loudly in pain, his brute strength finally enough to break from me. As he did, both our vision settled momentarily on his wounded arm to see I had successfully scorched deep within the tissue where my palm had been.
There wasn't time for celebration since, though confused by the strange attack, the man was quickly upon me once more, both hands at my throat. Fuck! I began choking as he lifted me just above the ground, my own hands reaching out in an attempt to reach him. Just as I touched his chest, he tightened his hold, causing me to gasp. Fuck fuck fuck! I kept cursing in my mind. Wait... Instead of trying to attack him, I focused on swinging my arm and uttering a different type of charm, "Depulso," I was able to breathe, low enough that nobody could hear.
Instantly, the man flew back into the table the group had previously been sitting at, dropping me to the floor as he fell over onto Allan, who had just then gotten control of himself enough to stand. The brief life of the reddish wisps of energy from the spell seemingly going unnoticed. During their small struggle for balance, I put my attention on Tom. The third man was lying on the floor next to his feet, the wizard appearing just as smug as before. I really hope that guy isn't dead...
"What seems to be the trouble here?" a commanding voice sounded close by.
Each one of us, except for the hopefully only unconscious man on the ground, turned to the two policemen who had entered the club behind us. Great.
"I'm sorry, officers," Tom spoke thickly, but politely, "These men were causing a scene and attacked my friend and I which is why we were trying to defend ourselves."
"You fucking twink!" Allan growled at my teacher, then looked at the cops, "These punks followed us here and picked a fight!"
"It's not wise to lie to the police," Tom scolded the racist, "Officers, I'm sure you can ask anyone here and they will corroborate what I've said."
The two uniformed men looked around at the others in the room. At first, nobody did a thing except stare dumbly or deter their gaze from the commotion. However, slowly, several of the men and women nodded to confirm Tom's bold faced lie. No doubt, their reasoning in doing so was to support us for having beat the men insulting and disrespecting them so blatantly and without reason. Something about having this support from the strangers greatly strengthened my stance on the matter, knowing I had acted honorably.
The officers looked back to the scene, eyeing the man laying on the floor. Thankfully, he had awoken, still in the same spot save for to rub his temples and begin groaning, "The five of you need to return home for the evening. Is that understood? If I see any of you out before tomorrow, you will be arrested," the police who had taken the lead in the case lifted a brow as his stony glare covered the rest of us.
"Of course," Tom replied, smiling, before turning and strolling out of the club.
I followed, my vision lingering behind on Allan and the man I had thrown, taking in their menacing yet still confused looks. Seems like I had made my first real enemy. This was going to make work awkward...
AUTHOR'S NOTE: For the record, the majority of dealings with racism and other such issues in this story is now over with. There may be a couple of mentions for historical context, but outside of that, this is the last :3
Pop was apparently used more in previous years in England than it is now, though my UK friends still say pop lol. In the northern US states, you'll also hear people call it that, but in the south, it's common to call all soft drinks coke despite what brand it actually is. If you don't want plain soda, you'd say 'Sprite' 'Mt. Dew' 'diet' or 'orange' to specify, once again no matter what the actually brand the store carries is. Other than that, most people call it soda.
Twink, Fairy- both terms for a male homosexual meant to be derogatory
Just for shits and giggles, I made the setting Hot Springs, Arkansas since that is where I live lol. I live on the lake that they visited in Chapter 2, Lake Hamilton, and there is a club here called Maxine's though it isn't a jazz club. It's like, a bar with pool, darts, food, and they have shows there too of various kinds. Also, they have a costume contest every Halloween. Charlie Parker was the forefront of bebop jazz which had first become popular in 1940.
Another fun thing about Hot Springs that I may add in coming chapters is how it was literally the death capital of the United States for several years between 1920-1960 as it was home to infamous gangster Al Capone. There were so many deaths at one point, that the city had to employ a drive-through funeral home to be able to keep up with all the pre-burial viewings.
