Colorblind

Concrete Jungle

Alma POV

I stir awake and with my eyes still closed I say "hmm. George, I must have fallen asleep.I wait for a response from him which fails to come. At first, I think he may have not just heard me but then I noticed an empty kind of silence. It takes me a second to realize this is a different kind of silence, but then it hits me that I don't hear the hum of the car running. My eyes fly open and I notice that the car is in fact not only off, but it is parked and empty. I sit up abruptly and quickly search my surroundings. At first, I begin to panic because my surroundings are unfamiliar. There are tall buildings, streetlights, and cars parked by the side of the road. I turn my attention to the right and notice a tall statue of a woman holding a torch. She is the Statue of Liberty. I feel relief wash over me as I realize that we have made it to New York City. I look up at her and admire the way that she stands, or more so what she stands for; freedom. I think of all the people who traveled on a ship to pass by her and enter the land of great opportunity and freedom. For the first time, I feel what they must have felt when seeing her standing there in all her greatness. This sense of knowing that the worst of their journey is behind them and they will have an opportunity for a better life. A life that they have always dreamt of having. Similarly, by arriving here I and George get to have the life that we dream of having. However, I have been American my whole life and the concept of freedom is something that is just as foreign to me as it was to the voyagers prior to entering this country. To my people she is a mirage, but a beacon of hope for someone who doesn't share our darker skin tone. Our only sin is being too many shades to dark. While, I have never known the true feeling of freedom I guess this will have to be enough for now.

"You're awake now." I hear a voice say from the driver side window taking me out of my thoughts.

I turn towards the direction of where the voice is coming from and make eye contact with George. He has a smile on his face. I don't answer right away, as his smile and face are different then I have seen them before. His face seems lighter, more relaxed and his smile meets his ears. I watch as he almost looks younger, freer and I am almost mesmerized by the way the street lights illuminate his blue eyes.

"Cat got your tongue, or are you awestruck by my hotness?' George asks, snapping me out my fixation on him.

"Haha, don't flatter yourself." I say.

"We both know that you were staring at me, but I want you to meet someone." George says.

He turns his attention towards the man standing a small distance away from the car and says "Come on introduce yourself. She's awake."

I watch as an older man with dark black hair approaches the car. I roll down the window as he approaches the car.

"Hello, how are you? I am Rudy, and you must be Alma. I have heard so much about you." The man says with an extended hand through the window.

I awkwardly shake the man's hand through the window and say "Hello, Mr. Rudy it's nice to meet you."

"Same here. George has told me so much about you." He says.

I smile and say "Thank you so much for helping us and doing all of this."

He nods and says "No worries, I completely get what you are going through! So, what do you say? Let's get you guys to your new apartment, you must be exhausted from your journey!"

I nod and he moves away from the car. I watch as George and Rudy talk. While they talk I look at the city around me. It is nothing like back home. Instead of houses, there are tall buildings. There is absolutely no grass anywhere in sight. There is nothing but roads and streets for as far as the eye can see. As for this hour, Macon would be quiet as every family would either be finishing up dinner or getting ready for bed. Here the city is buzzing with people and cars zip by with their honking horns. I hear a man whistle and my head whips to the side. I watch as a yellow car comes to a complete and sudden stop. The man jumps into the yellow car and it runs idly for a few seconds. Then it wizzes off, I catch a glimpse of the words that are on the side of the yellow car in black bold letters. Taxi. I turn my attention to the couple that walk, huddle together and laugh loudly. I watch the way she envelopes herself into him and the way he holds her lazily. Neither of them seem to have a care in the world. They probably do this everyday; exist coinciding together without a worry in the world. A foreign act for me and George. We have only ever intermingled the way they do secretly in a meadow, with only the tall grass, the moon and stars bearing witness to our gentle sin in the eyes of the law. I turn my head to the left on the opposite side of the street where a man sways, in a single dance with himself. Based on the bottle in his hand, the alcohol seems to be his dancing partner and seems to be leading his steps. He seems to be a lonely kind of drunk, nothing like how my classmates are at those secret parties we used to have in the middle of nowhere. They would laugh and dance out of time to music. This man seems to be dancing a lazy tango with his woes. In some ways, I can relate to him. We are both running away from something that is too much to handle and similarly it is following us. He may be running away from a problem that will be there when he sobers up. I am running away from a system that says our love is wrong, except the remaint traces in Macon may find us in New York City. I swallow down the fear as George approaches the car with a large brown paper bag. I watch as he opens the door and places the bag on the back seat.