The Cost Of Deceit

Prologue

"How will are kids possibly be able to go to school with people like that?" Joan's mother groaned as they watched the television. The screen was round and glowed in the dimly lit room. It was round almost like a crystal ball, as if the broadcasting being shown was a premonition of what was going to come.

"See all of that unrest? All of the riots? If the coloreds just stayed where they should, we wouldn't need to get violent." Joan's father mumbled over his glass of exquisite scotch. "There'd be law and order as there always has been."

"The way things have been worked for years. They act as if we still have them in shackles, don't they?" Joan's mom complained. The event taking place that had them shaken up was coverage on Brown vs. Board Of Education. The prospect of having white kids and black kids go to school side by side had officially become a reality. In the next school year in their small town somewhere in America, they'd have no choice but to allow blacks attend the white school.

As the images of chaos stirred paranoia within themselves, their own daughter snuck out the front door right behind them. Their faces still toward the tv, their eyes unmoving from the flashing pictures on the screen, their ears totally surrendered to the timbre of the news caster.

For Joan, she was always warned about the coloreds. She was raised on the right side of town, the white one. Not only was she able to live a life of lavish simply because of the milky pale color of her skin, but also for her family's fortune. She was one of three families in town who had their hand in oil, and for that they were rich compared to the other working class families of the town.

Joan was taught that she was above all of the people in that small town, whether they were white or black. But being so high on a pedestal eventually proved to be tedious. And so when her parents weren't looking, she found herself running off to a different crowd. One that wasn't so uptight and let loose a little. She'd cross over to the wrong side of the tracks to dance and drink with the very people she was taught to be afraid of.

At first, it was pure curiosity. Joan was a senior now, being 18 and all she was a woman. She could surely handle herself amongst a bunch of negroes. When she got there the very first time, she was surprised to find they were much more fun than she could've imagined. They'd laugh and drink and dance to their heart's desire. And so she found herself making multiple trips to that side of town. Her expensive mint colored bicycle stuck out like a swore thumb amongst the others. Her fiery shoulder length red hair stood out as compared to the black bobs in which other girls sported. That wouldn't be for long, since she began to bring her friends with her too. Others in town couldn't imagine girls like that going to a place such as the West Side.

That particular night she met him.

When they locked eyes she knew she was in trouble. He was everything the East Side boys were not. Tall, mysterious, without even saying a word he was handsome. But most of all, he was black. And black was something Joan had never gotten a chance to get her hands on.

"What's your name, stranger?" Joan said in her most sultry voice she could fester. He flashed her a smile, probably the whitest thing on him.

"Maurice." He said. And that was the beginning of it all. Joan went to the West Side as much as she possibly could. The white tires on her bike began to peel and become dirtied from the bumpy pot-hole ridden roads of the other side. But Joan didn't care about an old bike. Maurice was everything to her. She did everything in her power simply to be near him.

He was a sweet talker for sure. Just like that he could get Joan to push her panties to the side for him. They'd do it anywhere and everywhere. Joan would gladly take him, he was the best thing she'd ever had. Her signature red lipstick would be smeared across her face, whether it was in the back of an abandoned car at the landfill, a bush by the latest party or a dark lit alley way.

It couldn't always be that way. Eventually the excitement of their relationship began to fade and both of them had to face reality. Joan decided Maurice was more than just a plaything to her, she truly desired him. One could say she was almost foolish enough to fall in love with the bastard, but Joan could never admit such a thing.

The feelings weren't mutual.

One day when Joan road that mint-colored bike over to the West Side, she spotted Maurice with another girl. A sophomore no less! She was colored and not nearly as pretty in Joan's eyes. While Joan stood there straddling her bike, she watched as they laughed and held each other in the distance. She almost felt a tear fall down her blushing cheek.

That was the end of that for Joan. Never again would she almost give her heart to a colored boy. She left him behind and quit going to the West Side.

Maurice wondered what caused Joan to disappear. He'd ask Joan's friends who still went to the West Side to party about her whereabouts. Her friends never gave clear answers, it was Joan's orders not to tell. All of their fathers worked for Joan's family, it wouldn't be smart to cross a girl like Joan.

Maurice wondered what happened to his red-haired flame, but eventually moved on from it. He was young and handsome, and there were other girls waiting in line for him. Joan still couldn't get over it. She still remembered exactly what he did to her. And so she told herself the next school year she'd make it pay for exactly she he did to her.

He surely wouldn't forget it.