Journey – Chapter 12

I want to send out a Happy New Year shout-out to all my readers and apologies for my long absence. Unfortunately it was avoidable. Hope you and your loved ones are safe. All of you are in my thoughts and prayers. Thank you for the dozen of requests for the updates to my stories. I will do my best to make up and implement a schedule so that they will be regularly updated.

The conversation with his family played over and over in his head and the word to describe their reaction choked him. He couldn't say it out loud because it would make it all too real. Feeling bile rising up his throat, he dropped the crate of oranges he was carrying to the ground and made a beeline for the front door. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Mrs Goodwin walked out on her back porch just in time to see the young man from Greene Grocery Store kneeling down in the alley. He wiped his mouth and suddenly and seemingly without warning and provocation punched the wall. It startled her. Then he punched the wall again and again and again. The fifth punch forced him to wince out in pain and cursed out loud. Now she was concerned and leaned over.

"Are you okay?"~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The faint sound from someone forced him to stand upright. He looked around, very sure that he was alone.

"Up here?" the voice said.

Looking up, he saw the old woman. She gestured to his bleeding hand.

"Looks like you could use some help."

He looked down at his hand, his hand pulsing with pain and heat. The blood stained his apron so he took it off and wrapped it around his injured hand. He cursed under his breath seeing blood spots on his shirt.

"Come on. You can't go back to work like that. I'll take care of it."~*~*~*~*~*~*

He listened as Mrs. Goodwin moved around the house gathering things. She had offered him sandwiches and cola which he refused. He didn't have an appetite. Unfazed, she put the plate down on a side table within his reach just in case he changed his mind. A couple minutes passed and she reappeared in front of him. Sitting down she gestured for his hand which he extended to her.

Carefully, gently, she unwrapped the apron. His hand was swollen, black, blue and purple and blood stained from cuts and scratches. She cocked her head.

"Hmmm."

"I think it's broken."

She shook her head.

"Maybe."

Slowly extending his curled fingers one by one, she watched his face. He winced.

"Not broken. Maybe severe soft tissue damage. It will need to stay bandaged for a while to heal."

Using a cotton ball which she soaked with alcohol, she held it over his hand.

"This is going to hurt."

He nodded and squirmed as soon as she touched his skin. Tears swelled up in his eyes but he didn't make a sound. She glanced up at him only once but kept a firm focus on what she was doing. In a couple of minutes, the hand was blood free which only saw the swelling and the discoloration more pronounced. She rubbed a cream on his hand which was cold to the touch and began applying the bandages.

"Do you want to tell me why you were trying to murder the wall?"

When he didn't answer immediately, she added.

"I'm a good listener. No judgments here."

Time passed as she continued bandaging and when she was finished, looked at him. Picking the bridge of his nose he looked away. She smiled.

"It's okay it you don't want to talk to me but I'm here if you need to."

She get up and walked to the kitchen.

"I think my family doesn't like black people."

She turned and looked at him.~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

They were sitting in the back porch overlooking the alley neither saying anything for a full five minutes.

"Care to elaborate?"

"I told my family about my girlfriend….."

"You mean the young lady you were kissing the other day?"

He flinched and nodded.

"Did you tell them she was black?"

"Yes and that I was planning on marrying her."

"And what did they say?"

"It's what they didn't say. They weren't happy. In fact, my father and brother left the table."

"And your mom?"

"She just sat there. No congratulations. No "when can we meet her?" Nothing."

"Hmmmmm."

"Then I went through our family album and there's not a single picture of anyone black in them. I probably went through dozens of pictures from since I was a child, birthday celebrations, Christmases, New Years, Thanksgiving. Nothing!" He paused. "I don't know what to do."

"Do you love this young lady?"

"With every drop of blood in me."

"And you intend on marrying her?"

"Yes and no other."

"Then you owe yourself to have an open and proper conversation with your family. Don't jump to conclusions just yet. You need them to say the words out plain and out loud. It is only then you will know what they are truly thinking."

He said nothing for a minute as he mulled over Mrs Goodwin's words.

"And what if they say it? What if they say that they don't like Michonne because she's black?"

"If they say that, then you have a decision to make about your future."

"There is no future if Michonne's not in it."~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

From the kitchen door, Michonne looked at her father, sitting in his favourite chair, reading the newspaper. He seemed to be in an unusually good mood. Her mother stepped in behind her.

"I think now will be a good time to tell your father about Rick."

She turned and looked at her mother. She was terrified and her mother smiled at her.

"I'll be close when you need me."

She nodded and walked into the living room and sat opposite her father. Marcella was in their bedroom working on a project. She pressed her hands against her stomach fighting to find the first and most crucial words.~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Malcolm could always read the ladies in his life especially Michonne. She was an open book, genuine, honest, kind to a fault and loving and she never ever lied to him. However, here she was, sitting across from him and he felt something has changed. Quietly folding the newspaper and putting it on the side table, he looked at her.

"Michy….."

"Yes daddy…."

"Something is on your mind. I could feel it."

She looked at her mother who smiled in support.

"I met someone."

He squinted.

"What do you mean 'met' someone? Like a friend?"

His voice was low, cautious.

"More….more than a friend. I like him….a lot. I want to be with him."

Malcolm folded his arms, crossed his legs and looked at her. She shifted uncomfortably. Then it began.

"Name?"

"Rick…."

His forehead creased.

"Rick?" He pondered a bit. "What kind of name is Rick?"

His eyes squinted even more.

"Age?"

"18."

"18?!"

"Yes."

"But you're 16."

"Daddy…."

"Where does he live?"

Michonne stiffened up, startled.

"Why do you want to know that?"

"To have a chat."

"Why?"

She was in panic mode.

"Because an 18 year old has no business fencing a 16 year old, especially, my 16 year old. He needs to know that."

Fully panicked, she turned to her mother.

"Where does he live Michonne?"

Her father's voice was firm.

"Wiltshire Park…." She was barely audible.

"Where?"

She swallowed.

"Wiltshire…Park."

"Wiltshire Park? But that's over…"

His eyes bulged as he shot to his feet, roaring.

"Rick is WHITE?!"~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Malcolm stared at his daughter who was crying.

"Daddy please! If you get to know him you will see he's a good person! I love him and he loves me!"

"LOVE? You don't know anything about love! You're a child!"

Michonne burst into tears as Malcolm turned towards his wife.

"You knew about this?!"

"Yes. She told me a few days ago."

"A few days?! And you didn't tell me?"

He turned to Michonne.

"Where did I go wrong with you?!"

Miriam screamed at him.

"Malcolm!"

Michonne fled to her room.~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Miriam watched as Malcolm paced the kitchen floor.

"How could you say that to Michonne?!"

"Don't even start! You had no right to keep such a thing from me!"

"What exactly did I keep from you Malcolm? Our daughter confided in me that she's in love with a boy. That's what girls tell their mothers, not their fathers!"

"I understand that but it not just any boy! He's a WHITE BOY!"

"Yes! I know and what do you want me to do?!"

"Talk her out of it!"

She scoffed.

"Really?! You honestly think any parent can talk their son or daughter out of their first crush or first love?! Where in history, does that go down well! All we'll be doing is just push her further to him! What if she runs away with him? What then?"

"It's like you want this!"

"This isn't about me or you or what we want! Our daughter met a boy she likes and yes! He's white!"

He stared at her, eyes twitching.

"He's the enemy's son and I'll be damn if I let this go any further!"

She pulled her husband to face her.

"I know this is a shock! It was for me too."

He pulled away from her.

"Oh my God Miriam! This isn't shock! This is fear! Fear for my daughter's safety! Fear for my daughter's life! I work with these crackers every day! Every single day! I am the one who has to hear all the nasty things they say about our women! Our mothers, our sisters, our daughters! Do think that's easy for me?" He took in a sharp breath. "Don't ask me to stand back and let my daughter be used as a fantasy or sexual experiment for some young thirsty pasty cracker only to be discarded like trash afterwards! This boy has no business looking in my daughter's direction and the fact that you will stand here and defend this is hurtful!"

"I'm not defending anything. What did you want me to do? Lock her in the bedroom for life?"

"It's a start!"

"Whether we like it or not, Michonne is in love with Rick or at least think she is and how you feel is not going to change that. This is a conversation you should…"

He cut her off.

"There is nothing to say! Blacks should stay with blacks and whites should stay with whites! It's for everyone's safety. Talking to this Rick will only serve to encourage it."

"Oh? You think so huh? Well, do you know he asked Michonne to marry him?" Malcolm's shoulder dropped. "And she said yes….."

Unexpectedly, Miriam burst into tears.

"I'm scared too Malcolm! I'm scared for Michonne. I want her to be happy. If Rick is the path that she has decided to walk and Rick has chosen her too, she will need our help to get through this because it will not be easy!"

"Easy? Michonne's feeling for Rick is dangerous! Dangerous for her! You think his parents will accept this? They will bring home a white girl for their son to marry and he will leave my little girl in a heartbeat! He will break her heart! I don't want that pain for her!"

He embraced her.

"I'm sorry Miriam. I can't and never will accept Rick. Don't ask me to support something that I know will end in heartbreak. Please…."

Miriam cries. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

When he returned to work, his colleagues stared at him but none dared to ask a question. As he continued his duties, Mrs Goodwin's advice played in his head on a constant loop. It sounds like the right thing to do but he honestly doesn't have any high hopes of anything good coming from a conversation. His father's reaction was the most hurtful. His mother half attempt at even engaging him by being evasive was pointless but his father didn't even entertain the thought of having a conversation. He boarded the bus, heartbroken.~*~*~*~*~*~*

Mary looked out the kitchen window at her husband and Brandon trims the hibiscus hedges. Since Rick's revelation, the house has been on edge, with only mild courtesies passing between a father and his eldest son. The topic wasn't mentioned again but it hung precariously over them. It needed to be discussed and as always, she has to be the one to do it by taking the first step.

She waited until Brandon stepped away to make her move. Filling a glass with lemonade and five ice cubes, she went out to him. On cue, he turned around smiling at her and took the drink. Taking three big gulps, he gave it back to her and resumed trimming. She waited a couple minutes, then spoke.

"So…are we going to talk about it?"

"About what?"

"You know…"

His back remained turned to her.

"No. I don't."

"Phillip…..we have to deal with this."

"My son ain't marrying no n***a. No n***a will ever be welcomed in my house. No n***a grandbabies will be running around my yard! You hear me?"

It has been over twenty years since she heard her husband talk like this. The broken English and tone of this voice gave away his deep Mississippi upbringing. When she first met him, he was a crude soul and through hard work and dedication, she cultured him to the best of her ability.

"God forbid I have a coloured for a daughter in law. What will our friends and family say? The stares we will get and if they have children? I can't fathom the thought! Our bloodline will be ruined! However, Rick is eighteen years old. We can't stop him if he wants to marry"…she shuddered at the thought, "this girl. We can't let this happen!"

"So there is nothing to talk about."

"It doesn't mean it still wouldn't be a problem. You know Rick. If her want this girl…he wants her and he will marry her…"

Slowly, Phillip put down the pruning shears and faced his wife.

"In this matter, I don't care what Rick want and if he insists on having a n***a for his wife, then I will no longer have two sons."

"Oh my God! Please don't say that! I will die of shame if people find out!"

Suddenly his eyes locked to the left behind his wife and he stiffened. Mary turned around and a strangled cry escaped her lips.

"Then I hope your shame strangles every last breath from your body, and I will not be attending the funeral." He faced his father. "As for you…..you are the father of only one son now."~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Updates for TWD Chronicles, Sin and The Colony coming soon