Red White and Black

Chapter Fourteen - Part B

Markus

He wondered what she meant by that until her next words swept those away, "Here, catch." She tossed the ball over her car, over the hedge, and into his driveway. Markus stepped forward to catch it out of pure reflex but his foot came down on the edge of the oil drain pan and flipped it up, slopping used oil over his shoe and leg.

Holding the ball, he looked down in dismay at his ruined shoe, unable to say anything. He heard a snicker and looked up to see the girl holding her hand over her mouth trying her best to keep from laughing out loud. His first reaction was anger, not at her but at himself. He looked down at his shoe again, felt the oil squishing around and realized it was ruined and there would never be any way to clean it. He glanced up at her again and this time, caught her eye. She was really doing everything she could to keep it in. Her mirth became infectious and soon Markus joined her. It wasn't like he could do anything else, the shoe was destined for the trash.

"So you think that's funny, huh? Why don't you run on in there and grab a pair of your Daddy's shoes and bring 'em on out here."

"Aww, did the big basketball player make a mess?"

Markus grinned but tried to put on a serious face. "I can't believe you gonna dis me now, after you done made me ruin my shoe! Are all white girls as sassy as you?"

She still held the hose in her hand and pointed it at him. "Careful now. This is one white girl who won't take anything from just anybody."

Not wanting to get soaked, Markus backed away. "Now hang on girl, you go and shoot me with that hose, you gonna find out I ain't just anybody."

"Is that a threat?" she asked approaching with the hose.

"Come on now, I ain't messin' with you."

She laughed again. "Yeah, but I'm messing with you," she said lowering the hose.

Seeing he was safe for the moment, he kicked off his shoe into the grass. When he looked up she was watching with a smile hidden just behind her eyes. He was intrigued, wanting to know more about her but unsure how to ask.

He became desperate and was about to make some lame comment about the weather when she came to the rescue, "Do you really play basketball?"

"Yeah, I really do," he responded. Then, thinking a moment, he amended his answer. "Well, I did. I guess those days are over now."

She became serious. "Wow, you suddenly sound sad. Did you get injured or something?"

Markus thought back to what seemed an eternity ago when he sat in the office of Mr. Samuelson, Athletic Director of Northern State University, to learn his scholarship had been revoked. How could he talk about that? Especially to someone he had just met. And she was white! Reliving the whole story in his mind caused him to sag as if a great weight had landed on his shoulders. He leaned against the car, unsure what to say, if anything. The girl stood there expectedly and then he was talking.

The whole story came gushing out in a torrent of pain and despair. At times he was forced to pause, unable to continue. Other times his fist clenched and veins stood out on his neck. She listened in silence, her expression growing more stony at each turn, her eyes hardening and taking on a determined look.

Minutes flew by and Markus found he was able to talk with this girl like no other he had met. He sat in the grass and tried to wipe the oil from his foot while he talked but succeeded only in coating his entire leg in oil and grass clippings. The girl sat in the grass on her side of the hedge and listened, then laughed--a sound he found delightful--then listened more. Before long, he had told her all about Jay C and Aunt Sadie, even his recent job hunting fiasco.