The teacher had let us go for lunch. Me and my friends headed for the swings. It was the first day of school, and the scorching Alabama heat burned our faces and shoulders as we sat there eating our lunches. My friends said things such as "Gee! Being in the second grade sure is tough, What do you think Eliza?" I would just nod my head in agreement. It wasn't the work that was hard, it was Miss Jones who was real tough. Always making us do reading and writing and arithmetic.
That day, the first day of second grade, is when I met him. I thought he was a shadow at first, until I saw his gleaming chocolate brown eyes from the bush he was hiding near. My family had brought me up hating the negroes, but I never really knew what was so bad about them. I mean Daddy always says that the negroes caused the great depression. Grand Daddy says that they are the reason his Grand Daddy went crazy. So there I was, my second grade self, staring trying to figure out exactly why I was s'pposed to hate 'em. My Grand Daddy's Grand Daddy had owned the biggest plantation in this county, if anyone should hate them coloreds, it should be me and my family. Yet I found no excuse to hate 'em, so I got up off my swing and went over to the fence.
"Hi" I said, "I'm Elizabeth, but everyone 'cept Miss Jones calls me Eliza." At first he said nothing, just looked at me, sweat forming on his dark brown forehead. "Well, ain't ya gonna tell me your name?"
"My name is Kennedy James." He replied timidly. He looked about my age, but I couldn't be sure on account of how dark his face was.
"That sure is a mighty fine name Kennedy James." I said smiling. "Why ain't you playing on the playground?"
"I ain't s'pposed to. It ain't for coloreds."
"Well why don't you come play tag with us. If you do, I'll give you half my sandwich"
"I dunno."
"It's got ham and tomatoes on it." I said tauntingly.
"Does it have any cheese?" He said hopefully.
"Yes it does. It has cheddar cheese on it!"
"Well I guess Jim can't argue with one game."
"Who's Jim?"
"Jim Crow. It's the law 'round here"
"Really! Why?"
"'Cause coloreds ain't s'pposed to mix with whites."
"Who cares, Come on!" I said, but as Kennedy James was climbing over the fence Miss Jones came running over. She slapped him and pushed him back over the fence.
"Are you okay Elizabeth?" she asked in an alarmed tone.
"Yes. Miss Jones, I'm fine. What about Kennedy James though!" I said trying to get around Miss Jones to check on him.
"Did he hurt you?"
"No ma'am! I would never-" Kennedy James started to say before being cut off by a screaming Miss Jones.
"Shut up! You filthy nigger! Get back to where you belong!" She hollered, pulling me back from the fence, away from the bloodied, bruised, and crying Kennedy James.
I found Kennedy James after school and told him I was real sorry 'bout the way Miss Jones had acted. He told me that nobody was as nice to him as I was, 'cept for other coloreds. He told me that most white people don't talk to him. We walked home together 'cause his house is two streets up from mine. As we was walking along the path an older boy, 'bout 15 walked up to us and spit on Kennedy James!
"Hey!" I shouted at him. "That ain't real nice to do!"
"Well," He said in a mockingly sappy tone "Do you want me to wipe it off"
"Now that won't be necessary." Kennedy James said, but I wasn't 'bout to let him get away with it.
"Yes, I would!" I said. He looked back at me amazed.
"Sorry I ain't no slave" he said. "But your friend can get his ma to do it for him."
"I'll have you know slavery don't happen no more!"
"I already know that," he said, "but I don't think the niggers understand that they ain't welcome here no more. If they ain't doin' the cookin' and cleanin' and workin' in the fields they might as well get the hell out of this town."
That's when I lunged at him. I didn't consider what might happen, I just jumped up and started hitting him. Kennedy James joined in tryin' to pull me off of him. After a minute or two the policemen came over to break up our fight.
"Did this colored attack you?" The policeman asked.
"Yes he did! He jumped on us for no reason!" the older boy replied.
"No he didn't. I was the one who jumped on 'em!" I replied wiping the blood from my nose
"Well, don't let it happen again." The man said to me, "And you," he said pointing at Kennedy James. "Don't let me ever catch you in a fight again. Understand, Boy?"
"Yes sir. I understand." Kennedy James said.
Kennedy James and I continued on our way after that.
"Why do them boys have to be so mean?" I asked Kennedy James.
"I dunno Eliza. They just are. They probably always will be."
"But why?" I asked
"I guess it's 'cause I got different color skin."
"But why does it matter Kennedy James?"
"I dunno. Maybe it's 'cause they think we're bad 'cause we're black"
"But that ain't what is wrong. That's just what's on the outside. The color of your skin don't matter one bit to me. It ain't s'pposed to matter. We are Americans. Don't you think we oughta be less mean. We are s'pposed to be the land of the free, ain't we?"
"We are free. We ain't tending the fields and the gardens no more."
"That is mighty true, but ain't nobody ever spit on me. Why ain't they spittin' on me too?"
"Eliza, why would you wanna be spat on?"
"To make it fair."
"We're s'pposed to be separate but equal. But we ain't. It just ain't how things work here."
"Well then Kennedy James- will you spit on me?"
"Why would I ever do that?"
"To make us equal."
"But I can't. You ain't s'pposed to spit on girls. You ain't s'pposed to spit on nobody."
"Kennedy James, I am asking you to make us equal."
"Are you sure?"
"I am positive!"
"Okay..." Kennedy James replied spitting on Eliza's shoes.
She looked down at the white phlegmy blob and smiled. "Now we're equal!"
