The Cost Of Deceit

Chapter 12

"It's horrible that you were forced to leave just because of your color." Elmer commented, all while attempting to keep his voice down. Then he stopped in his tracks in the hallway. "Your color. Your friend Lucille, is she okay?"

Francine became sad that he mentioned Lucille. She figured it was because he liked her. "Lucille? Sure, she's alright. What about her?"

"No, she's not alright. I mean, she's fine. Well no she's—" Elmer tried to calm himself down. Francine laughed at how goofy he was. She hadn't imagined someone as suave as him being this way. "What I meant to tell you is that yesterday the police stopped your friend. They accused her of staying on the East Side after sundown to start trouble."

Francine's smile faded immediately. "They did?"

"I was the one who broke it up." Elmer told her. "I was also the one who drove her home."

"I had no idea." Francine said in a worried voice. "I should go check on her."

"Wait! I have your books." Elmer stopped her. "We should probably go to your locker first."

"Sure, you're right." Francine agreed. She walked him to her locker, and along the way Elmer told her exactly what happened. Francine's hands were shaking out of fear as she locked her locker shut. "I can't believe that happened to her. That's far worse than what happened to us earlier."

"And to think Lucille was part of that ice cream parlor too." Elmer agreed. "I can't imagine why people make such a big deal about something as stupid as color."

That comment rubbed Francine the wrong way. Elmer noticed her facial expression change.

"I'm sorry, did I say something?" Elmer asked.

"No, it's just that. Well, color isn't necessarily stupid." Francine pointed out.

"Oh no, of course. Right, I'm dumb to even say something like that. Color isn't stupid, I just meant it's stupid to make a big deal about it." Elmer tried to correct himself.

"It's not stupid to make a big deal about it. Many people all around the country are causing a ruckus to implement change." Francine argued back.

"As they should." Elmer nodded. "Well, as long as they aren't causing too much of a ruckus."

"What do you mean by that?" Francine asked. Elmer didn't know exactly how to go about the conversation. He knew that it was a touchy subject, but guys his age at that time weren't very educated when it came to racial economics.

"All I was saying was that sometimes certain people go into certain neighborhoods and turn everything upside down. And sometimes that's not necessary. Sometimes a good old conversation is all you need." Elmer told Francine.

"A good old conversation hasn't worked in four hundred years." Francine began to raise her voice. People passing by began looking, and that made Elmer nervous.

"I'm sorry, that's not what I meant. Of course that's not what I meant. I mean now, in this modern time. It's not like you guys are slaves or anything. You have your own homes and you're own jobs and your own families. What's the big deal? We're pretty much equals." Elmer shrugged.

"Equals? Equals? We can't even go to the same schools because we're not equals." Francine cried.

"The colored school is separate but it's equal." Elmer nodded. "Come on, the whole reason you switched to this school is because it's more convenient for you. It's about distance, not necessarily the quality of the school."

"You think Brown vs. Board Of Education was really about distance?" Asked Francine. She tried to hold back tears. She began to see the boy who she admired in a whole new light. "Elmer, it was nice speaking to you but,"

"Come on, we're only having a conversation." Elmer begged.

"It's funny how you just finished telling me about what happened to my friend, yet you still say we're equals." Francine reminded him. "It's been a pleasure talking to you. But I've got to get going."

Francine immediately walked off. "Francine. Francine!" Called Elmer.

Something told Elmer deep inside that maybe the way he'd been raised wasn't totally correct. Maybe he was too deep into his own sorrow to recognize the sorrow of others entirely. While he knew black people were treated differently, he never could have imagined the gravity it held.

He lived in a white town, on a white street, in a white house. The most pain he'd ever experienced was when his mother got that dreadful telegraph.

He remembered laying in his room on a cool fall day. He looked through one of his many comic books. He'd just gotten his braces off, which he was surely proud about. He wrote to Richie and told him all about it. Finally, this was his time to be a man. To grow into himself.

He thought he'd grow into being a man slowly and organically. But it all happened at the sound of clatter downstairs in his house. He put down his comic, slowly making his way down the steps. On the kitchen floor sat his mother, rocking back and forth. Beside her on the floor was the letter to inform the family of his brother Clark's death.

Elmer tried desperately to fill his brother's shoes, but it seemed impossible. His brother was liked by many, adored by plenty. But his brother lead with kindness rather than cold deceit. Elmer created a persona of mystery to gain interest in himself, while Clark lead with a clean and open heart.

At Clark's funeral the East Side came. Even some from the West Side who worked in the Worthington household. Girls cried their hearts out over the love they'd never fulfill, mother's cried out of the fear their sons would be next, fathers mourned the image of youth that died with Clark.

Elmer missed his brother. He missed having someone to play catch with and someone to look up to. But what he couldn't feel was the deep despair of those around him. And so he figured in the case of him trying to fathom what it was like to be colored in America, he'd need to dig deeper.