Runaway Mike

Good Ole South

We were sitting at the table eating dinner.

"So, Michael, tell us a bit about yourself?"

"Well, I'm eighteen years old, uh...I'm sorry, don't really know much about myself."

"Aw come on son, you must have a couple hobbies," Bobby said.

"Uh...well I always liked music."

"Oh, do you like to sing?" Henrietta asked.

"Not much, just listening to music."

"Are you into The Beatles?" Mary Ann asked.

"I am."

"I love your accent, I always liked people with foreign accents."

"My parents are British immigrants, I was born here."

"You're not from Tennessee, you said so earlier, where you from?" Bobby asked.

"Kentucky."

"The Bluegrass state I love it! Are you a UK fan?"

"No sir, I'm not a sports person in general. My dad talked me into playing football until I got to high school, he still hates me for it."

"Hmm," Bobby nodded.

"I'm into music myself, Willie Nelson, I love him. And me and Bobby got square dancing for dates all the time. Ah the perks the good ole South...except for them n*****s, don't want my kids around them, if my daughter dates a black boy I'll have him shot!"

"Well Henrietta, I have black friends back in school and they're a delight."

"Well, that's your beliefs."

"Well, I don't drink tea, I don't 'talk like this a lot!" I said imitating a posh Englishman's deep voice.

I smirked. I saw Mary Ann crack a smile, that time not flirty.

"It's what I thought," I said silently.

I took a bite of a chicken leg.

"Delicious."

"Thank you. I'm glad you enjoy it."

"I do. Can't wait for dessert."

She chuckled.

Mary Ann put sheets on the couch.

"I hope you don't mind sleeping on the couch?"

"It's alright. It's a small mobile home. I'll be ok."

"Good."

She placed a pillow and a quilt.

"Mama let you use her quilt to cover up with."

"It's beautiful."

"I know, it's very old too so be careful."

"I will, scouts honor. Yeah I was in boy's scouts but that was many years ago, a small kid of seven."

"Daddy would've liked to hear that. Why didn't you say at dinner? He loved nature."

"You mean hunting game, fishing."

"Yep!"

She giggled.

"Good night Mike, can I call you Mike?"

"Yeah, it's what I go by anyway."

"Good night."

"Good night."

She went to her room.

"Go to bed Billy Joe," I heard her say.

I got under the quilt and laid down. I fell asleep quickly.