Fresh off the steamboat, a strapping young man wipes the sweat off his forehead with his soiled coal trimmer hat. He stands proud on the busy American dock; his hands hooked into the tool belt at his hips. He breathes in the cool spring air and exhales with bliss. After working for his travel fare in the dark collier of the ship for 4 months, the midday air feels like paradise.
He looks down at his coal-chalked hands and smiles. Lacking any and everything except the dirtied clothes on his back and a meager wage in his pocket, he feels like a king. No state of wealth or being could break his merriment. He was living the American Dream after all.
"Philip! Ojomo, Oi!" This disembodied voice is matched with animated steps of another man with an African accent approaching the now known Philip. The steps come to a halt behind him, and the man bellows again. "C'mon we need help unloading the cargo. You can stand idle later. Phillip?"
Philip doesn't respond, but rather, turns around, tears bubbled in his dark eyes and a smile from ear to ear. The other man grins back, and speaks, softer this time: "Ain't like home, hmm my friend?" Philip shakes his head and affirms in a similar accent, "It's beautiful Beni." The man gestures towards the unloading area. "Not as beautiful as getting this work done."
They walk side by side and exchange remarks down the dock, passing people of different complexions and tongues whom are bustling freight to and fro. The man, Beni, sways a bit in his step as he jokes. "My land legs aren't like my sea legs, cha." Philip imitates him and starts stumbling in his walk like a drunkard. By the time they get to the crates, their voices are hoarse from laughter.
-
After a half hour of unloading, Philip and a few others off the ship sit in an alleyway a little in from the wharf, evidently waiting for something. They guzzle up street soup from tin mugs and banter about the new land. Philip shivers a bit and remarks, "A bit cold, cha?" A man by the name of Hassan chuckles, "Just wait for the winter." Another man named Nabil speaks. "We'a know Philip's gonna be making.. what are they called... snow angels?"
The group laughs in the image of Philip making the best of any situation, as he's known for. His brown faces reddens, but he starts mimicking the motions of a snow angel, waving his arms around with the roar of laughter. A familiar voice perks up from around the corner, "Oi, who drugged Philip's soup?"
Philip retorts back. "Ayi no, not drunk, just happy." Beni carries a stack of newspapers in his arms which he distributes to each individual there. Philip flips through the inked pages before coming across the advertisement section. He squints along with the rest of them at the available work.
Philip exhales with thankfulness that he learned to speak and read english in his youth. The fine print speaks promises of long hours and little cash. It seems the pickings are slim to manual labor or bagging groceries. He foresees a rough time in his future. Then again, anything is a fine alternative to the war-torn West Saharan life from before.
One of the men starts to hum a familiar Moroccan tune while studying the paper, and another joins in. Pretty soon the whole lot is clicking along in the vocals of the culture they left behind. A wave of nostalgia hits Philip as he sings the words and recalls a life before war forced him out of his home.
He looks down the alley into the street, where the sea breeze carries people with a purpose left and right. Philip foresees new experiences in this country, and yet another smile creeps up on his face. Times may be rough but that wouldn't break him. What could go wrong when one was living the American Dream?
———————-
sooooo.... what do ya think?
I feel pretty satisfied with this story so far, and I'd like to continue, but it'd be lovely to get some feedback. Critique is appreciated to the moon and back. I have a few ideas up my sleeve before the whole killing-innocent-people-by-accident-and-choking-boss-out thing. (potential lover, experience with racism...angggst..?) Please drop some ideas on this cringey fic so I can improve. Thank you fellow humans xx
- Bailey
YOU ARE READING
Philip's Better Backstory
Fanfictionheyy there friends. I was in a car for a loong time during thanksgiving break & decided to write this. It's about ya boy wraithy and his experience before he became... ya'know. As one might recall from the dbd wiki, he's an African immigrant and I...
