AMERICAN GIRL ⤑ T'CHALLA (BLACK PANTHER)

Introduction

[note: reg. chapters will not be in third person. this is just the introduction.]

-

"Miss, it says here you are a... convicted felon."

King T'Challa looked up from the paperwork in his tired hands and over at the crazy-haired woman sitting across the table from him.

She nodded quickly in a way that seemed almost spasmodic.

"Yes," she squeaked. Her voice was high-pitched, barely above a whisper and she seemed to be shaking in her seat. "Just a small b-battery charge."

Was she... smiling?

T'Challa stared bemused for a few seconds before finally shaking his head and laying the papers back on the table.

"Alright," he sighed. "Thank you for coming in, we will contact you if you receive the position."

Of course he was only saying that to be polite. There was no way that woman would ever be hired for such an important job nor would anyone else T'Challa had interviewed that entire day. He had seen almost a hundred people and none of them seemed right for the job. Who knew finding the perfect head of youth outreach would be so difficult?

After the woman left, T'Challa walked toward the window and looked out at the kids playing ball on the blacktop below. He knew those kids were the future and that for them, he was only willing to hire the best of the best.

His train of thought was interrupted by the voice of Okoye.

"I am glad she left, your highness. I was almost ready to charge," she said with a grin.

With so much on his mind, T'Challa could only halfway return the expression.

Okoye could sense the king's worry and tried to reassure him. "Do not worry, my king. With patience, we will surely find the right candidate."

"Aye," he responded, still feeling defeated. "I suppose we can just try again tomorrow. Let us return home now."

Silently, they trudged back outside and into the hot Oakland sun.

As soon as he was spotted, the kids at the court stopped their game and rushed him.

"Ay look, there he go!"

"Show us the ship, show us the ship!"

And just like that, T'Challa's smile reappeared. If there was anything that could warm his heart, it was the youth.

"Alright, alright," he chuckled and then paused.

"Look behind you."

They all turned simultaneously and lost. their. shit.

"Yooooo!" one of boys exclaimed.

"How does he do that?!"

T'Challa and Okoye exchanged a glance and a smile then stood and watched as the boys marvelled at the ship. A few minutes of waiting wouldn't hurt them. It was only after a few seconds though, that they ceased to be alone.

Like an autumn chill that disrupts an otherwise comfortable day, the whole atmosphere changed.

T'Challa tensed. Okoye braced herself for defense if needed. Their visitor came and stood boldly next to the king, shoulder to shoulder.

For a while, no one moved or said anything, and then finally, she spoke.

"Cute kids, huh?"

T'Challa relaxed a bit, but Okoye still didn't let her guard down. She trusted no stranger, but wouldn't move unless her king ordered her to.

"Indeed they are," T'Challa replied. He turned his head to look at the woman standing so close next to him, but she wasn't looking his way. Her brown eyes were focused, looking straight ahead. Straight at the ship and the boys and the basketball hoop.

"Yeah, real cute," she repeated. She rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet, hands buried deep inside the pockets of her gray sweatpants.

There was another moment where no one spoke and T'Challa just continued to look at her. It was hard to read the expression on her face and decipher the purpose behind her initiating this interaction. She looked hard, like the concrete beneath their feet. She looked angry, like somebody had wronged her. But her voice? It sounded sweet.

It was she again who broke the silence.

"You know, I just wanna ask you something, king."

She spat out the word "king" like it had a bad taste in her mouth and then the sweetness was gone.

"I see you on the news, all diplomatic and shit," she chuckled at that last bit. "You say you tryna help somebody. Tryna set up some buildings and help somebody."

She paused and shook her head for a moment, as if giving T'Challa time to let her words soak in.

"But I just want you to know," she began again, "that you ain't helping nobody."

Now instead of angry, she looked disgusted.

All this time, T'Challa hadn't said a word. He didn't know how to react. Angrily? He had spent his entire day interviewing lunatics just so he could better her community. Confused? He had never met this woman and yet she seemed so repulsed by him and his efforts.

"And what is exactly is the root of your opposition? What has your mind made up in such a way?" he asked her calmly. 

The woman laughed lightly as if there was a silly song being whispered in the air that only she could hear the lyrics to.

Then she pointed at the ship.

"Your answer's right there, king."

For the first time, she turned and looked T'Challa dead in his eyes.

"That ship right there is your ticket outta here, and you get to come and go as you please. Those kids, though? They ain't got no ticket out. They gotta stay here and live and die and watch people die. Ain't no Wakanda for them."