CHAPTER 10: MID 1990's

Better times. That's how Marletta remembered them. Not good times, really—Mama was drunk most of the time and Melvin was already displaying his violent tendencies.

But things weren't as bad as they would later become. Mason hadn't yet gone to Vietnam, and he was still at home looking out for her. Manette hadn't yet moved out with her children, whom Marletta adored.

Helping to take care of her nephew Darnell and her nieces Maisy and Lashawn made Marletta feel special, as if maybe she had some worth in the world. And today, she had a really important responsibility. While Manette stayed home to look after her two young daughters, Marletta was taking Darnell to his first day at school.

When they arrived at Sherborn Elementary School, the same one that Marletta had attended until last year, Darnell clung to her legs, crying. "I don't want to go! I want to stay with you!"

Marletta started crying, too. This was love she felt, for and from Darnell. In moments like this one, she could forget all the kids who called her the "ugly, high yella girl" or who made fun of her for wearing clothes that were raggedy or too small. She knew she mattered to someone.

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Marletta woke up with a start. It was almost dawn. Her dream had been so vivid, it took her a minute to realize that she wasn't a twelve-year-old girl back in Longbourn City.

She knew why the memory had come back to her. Today was Will's first day of kindergarten.

Wilson School was closer to their home in Pemberley than Sherborn had been to the apartment in Longbourn City, yet she had walked Darnell to school but was driving Will, she thought with some amusement. Billy had already dropped Jenny off at the home of her in-laws, Andrew and Betty.

Will, unlike Darnell, was excited about going to kindergarten. He already had a lot of friends, children he'd met playing in the Pemberley town soccer league in the four to five-year-old division during the summer. Likewise, she had gotten to know quite a few of the mothers.

For most of the children in this age division, playing soccer meant running around randomly and trying to kick the ball if it came near you. A few children, however, seemed to have an intuitive grasp of the purpose of the game and were already demonstrating some of the athletic ability they would later develop. Not only was Will one of the few, but he also easily ran faster than any other child on the field.

For this reason, Marletta was glad he was starting school. She didn't want her son to be stereotyped as "black kid, good athlete." Will was also extremely bright, already reading, doing basic arithmetic, and showing great aptitude for problem-solving. Marletta was determined that both her children would excel academically.

She needn't have worried. Unlike when she was a child, kindergarten lasted a full day and was much more academic, but Will thrived in school from day one. His teacher praised him for being outgoing, cooperative, and eager to learn.

She was therefore shocked when his teacher called her a couple months into the school year to inform her that Will had been in a fight.

She left work early to pick him up. She found her son in the principal's office, his face tear-stained. He jumped up as soon as she arrived and threw his arms around her, clinging to her as tightly as Darnell had on his first day of school.

"One of his classmates called him 'stupid' and the 'N' word," the principal explained. "Will hit him, and they started fighting. We don't usually suspend children this young, so we've dismissed both boys for the day."

Marletta crouched before Will so she could look him in the eyes. "You were fighting, Will? You know better than that!"

Will didn't answer, but fresh tears filled his eyes.

"Mrs. Darcy," the principal said, "we don't tolerate fighting, but we also don't tolerate the kind of language the other boy used. I want to assure you of that."

Marletta nodded. She was embarrassed and wanted to leave as soon as possible.

When they arrived at home, she sat down at the kitchen table and put her hands on Will's shoulders as he stood facing her. She asked him to tell her what had happened. "Justin kept cutting people getting on the slide, and when I told him to stop, he said, 'shut up, stupid nigger.' So I hit him."

"Do you know what that word means? Nigger?"

He shook his head. "I know it's a bad word."

Marletta placed her hands on his face. "Will, I don't want to ever hear about you fighting again. That's what people expect you to do. I don't care what anybody else says to you. You're better than that! You understand me?"

Will looked confused, but he nodded. "I'm sorry, Mommy."

As much as she wanted to take him in her arms and hold him, she felt like she needed to get this point across. "Go to your room now. You have to stay there until dinner."

When Billy arrived home with their daughter around six-thirty that evening, Jenny ran into Marletta's arms as always. "Let's go play with my animals!" she said, tugging at Marletta's sleeve.

"Where's Will?" Billy asked.

"In his room. He's being punished. He got into a fight at school today."

"Will was fighting? What happened?"

"A boy called him a 'stupid nigger'," she whispered to Billy so Jenny wouldn't hear.

"What did you tell him about that?"

Jenny was still tugging her arm and saying, "Come on, Mommy!"

"Jenny, stop! I need to talk to your father." She turned back to Billy. "What do you think I told him? I told him he's not ever allowed to fight, no matter what some other kid says."

She couldn't read the expression on Billy's face. "I want to talk to him," he said.

All three of them walked upstairs. Billy looked at his daughter. "Jenny, I want you to play in your room by yourself for a little while. Mommy and I need to talk to Will."

"No!" Jenny protested. "I want Mommy to play with me."

"She will, in a few minutes," Billy said more firmly. "But we need to talk to Will first."

When they walked into Will's room, he was lying on his bed with his face to the wall. Marletta remained by the door while Billy walked in and sat down on the bed next to his son.

"Hey," Billy said softly, placing his hand on Will's back. "I heard you had a tough day at school. Can I give you hug?"

Will sat up and put his arms around his father's neck. After hugging him for a minute, Billy sat Will on his lap. "Can you tell me what happened?"

Will retold the story about Justin.

"Do you know why he called you nigger?" Billy asked.

"Because I'm brown," Will answered. Marletta was surprised. Will had some idea what the word meant after all.

"You know what's really cool, Will? Everybody's different. You know how some kids are really tall, and some are really short? And some are fat and some are thin? How else are kids different?"

"Kayla and Evan have really red hair," Will answered.

"Yeah, like that! That's cool, isn't it? What if we were all the same? What if everyone was this tall"—Billy held his right hand over his left hand, a foot apart—"and this fat"—he spread his arms as far as they could go—"and had purple skin and three noses? What if we all looked like that?"

Will started giggling. "That would be really funny!"

Billy laughed, too. "Yeah, it would be, wouldn't it? That's why I'm glad we're not all the same like that. I'm glad we're all different. Even here in our family, how are we different?"

"Mommy and Jenny are girls, and you and me are boys."

"That's right, and how about this?" Billy placed his arm next to Will's.

"You're really, really brown, and I'm kind of brown," Will answered.

"Yeah, even in our own family we're kind of different, but we still love each other. But you know, sometimes when kids want to be mean, they try to act like being different is bad. They say mean words, like Justin did. Do you know what you should do when that happens? Should you hit him?"

Will shook his head. "No. I got in trouble."

"Yeah, you shouldn't hit because you could hurt the other person, and you'll get in trouble. Here's the first thing you do: you remember that he's wrong. Are you stupid, or are you smart?"

"I'm smart!" Will said with a smile.

"That's right, you're very smart! Then the next thing you think about is that short, fat purple person with the three noses."

Will started laughing again.

"You think about that, and you think to yourself, 'I'm glad I'm not that purple person! I'm glad I'm brown! I'm glad I'm different!' Can you do that?"

Will giggled. "Yeah, 'cause I don't want to be purple and have three noses!"

Billy hugged Will. "So if you remember that, then you'll know that when someone like Justin says stuff like that, it can't hurt you because it's not true. And if he keeps calling you names, what should you do?"

"Tell my teacher?"

"That's right. That's a much better thing to do than hitting." Billy looked up at Marletta and then turned back to Will. "Why don't you go play with your sister for a little while?"

"Mommy said I had to stay here until dinner."

"It's okay. I want to talk to Mommy for a few minutes."

"It's fine, Will," Marletta said softly.

When Will left the room, she said, "I handled that all wrong, didn't I?"

Billy put his arms around her. "Don't beat up on yourself. I've been through this before, remember?"

"I wish he didn't have to go through this."

"But he will. He and Jenny will always be African-American and as long as we live here in Pemberley, they'll always be different. If it's not name-calling, it'll be more benign things like kids wanting to touch their hair to see what it feels like. We just have to teach them how to deal with it."

Marletta wished she could be as accepting as Billy was. Even more, she wished she could have the same casual air of privilege as Adrienne, who was kind but clueless and didn't realize that life wasn't as easy for everyone in the world as it was for her.

As her children got older, she tried to make things as easy as possible for them, to the degree that she could. Whatever toys or games or electronics or clothes were in with their friends, she made sure they had them, too. The only difference between her children and any other kids in Pemberley would be their skin color. She'd make sure of it.

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For those who are not familiar with the term, "high yella" is an insulting expression for a black person whose skin is very light. I picture Marletta looking something like the singer Alicia Keys.

Btw, the next part of the story is when things between Marletta and Billy will really boil over, and her past will be revealed.

Thanks for the comments so far. Please review!