Copyright ©2020 by Creole Gaudet. All rights reserved.
No part of this chronicle may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information storage and retrieval system – except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a magazine or newspaper – without permission in writing from the publisher, Creole Gaudet.
MARCH 8, 2020
KNOCKOUT SPORTS BAR – NORTHWEST HIGHWAY – 12:51 p.m.
“It’s all good, Tyler.” I pointed. “Please, sit back down.”
Sway lifted our plates from the table. “I’ll be right back. I’m going to have them reheat these.”
“You don’t want to call the waitress?”
“No…” Her voice trailed as she jaunted towards the kitchen. “I got it.”
Tyler leaned in. “Is she okay?”
“Yeah, sure. She’s…a little sensitive about… Some things happened during her childhood that are still unresolved.”
“Did I hit a nerve?”
“A raw one.”
“Oh, no. I would never intentionally say anything to hurt her.”
“Don’t sweat it.”
“I’m going to apologize…”
“No! No… Just let it go.”
Tyler turned. “Here she comes now.”
I quickly stood, securing her chair. Sway grinned as she approached. “Baby, they’re making the whole order over. They thought I was angry… That the burgers were served cold.”
“I would have thought the same thing too if you’d come bursting through my shit… You should have seen the look on your face.”
Sway laughed. “Right? I didn’t even think about that.” She looked to Tyler, then to me. “So, what were you two talking about?”
“Nothing much. Just waiting for you.”
Tyler quick-glanced me before reaching across, gently placing a hand to Sway’s forearm. “I just want to say that I am so sorry. I had no idea about your past…”
“Tyler! Like fuck! I just asked you not to fucking say anything.”
“But, I needed to apologize. It would have been on my conscience…”
“What’s wrong with you? Did you even consider…”
Sway jumped in, “Hey… Come on. Let’s not fight.”
“She needs to learn to keep her mouth…”
“Baby, it’s okay. She’s just saying she’s sorry.”
“That’s not the fucking point, Sway.”
“You’re right, I get what you’re saying. But it’s okay. It’s just a misunderstanding, that’s all.” She turned to Tyler. “So where did you learn about all the white privilege, racism, and how women, white women are treated?”
“In school… My first semester, I took a class called The Black Man and the White Woman in America. It broke down the challenges, obstacles, and inner dynamics of interracial relationships between black men and white women and the effects on our society.
“We went way back, starting with Frederick Douglass and Helen Pitts, all the way to Sammy Davis Jr. and May Britt.
“I also studied and researched black activists such as Malcolm X, Martin Luther King, W.E.B. Du Bois, Sojourner Truth, Marcus Garvey, and the Black Panthers.”
“The movie?”
“No, the political organization formed by Bobby Seale and Huey Newton in Oakland. But I lean more to James Baldwin.” A subtle warmth came over her. “I’ve read everything he’s ever written.”
“Who’s that?”
Tyler reminisced. “Baldwin was a novelist, a playwright, a poet, and an activist.”
“He was?”
“Yes. He died in France, December first, nineteen eighty-seven, of stomach cancer. He was only sixty-three.”
“He sounds like he was an important man.”
“He was, Sway. One of his unfinished manuscripts, Remember This House, was made into a documentary called I Am Not Your Negro.
“If Beal Street Could Talk…”
I cut in. “Now that was a movie. I saw it at The Angelika.”
Tyler paused, sensing my desperation for relevance. “It was a novel first.”
Sway smiled proudly. “You know, Andre was a great writer in high school. His teacher was very proud of his work.”
“Wait. You’re black and you’re a writer… And you’ve never heard of James Baldwin?”
My insides were gutted. I was hollowed; emptied. Sway snapped in defense. “You know, Tyler, you really have a way with words.”
“I was only saying…”
“Bitch, shut the fuck up! You didn’t know any of those people either until you stepped onto a fucking campus.”
I stood, heading for the door. Sway trailed closely behind.
My hands were shoved deep into my pockets as I stood along the walkway. Sway ran her arm through mine. “Now the bitch has got me all fucked up.” I laughed. “She’s something else.”
Sway comforted. “I’m sorry. I should never have invited her.”
“No… It’s not her fault. She’s getting an education, and I have to respect her for that.” I panned aimlessly, watching the moving cars, the people walking, even the birds flying across the sky.
“You know, Sway… My teacher was right. She warned me, saying that I should matriculate. Over and over again, matriculate, matriculate. That was her favorite word.
“I could still do it if I put my mind to it. I know I could. I have the discipline, but I’m not there.
“She warned that if I didn’t and got out into the world, if I let it, life would begin to get in the way and that if I wasn’t careful, it would begin to steer my course.”
“Do you want to go? I can support you. I can support us.”
“She also said that whatever I decided to do, to do it on my own terms and to stick to it. To have a plan. To stay focused and not get distracted. I’m sticking to our plan, Sway. I want to continue what we’re building.”
“What do we do about Tyler? I can’t have her disrespecting you.”
“If it comes to that… Let’s just deal with it and not take anything personally. She’s already dissected our biggest weaknesses.”
“Without even trying.”
“There’s nothing else left. Those demons are long gone right about now. We can learn a lot from her. Let’s let it play out…and see where it goes.”
Creole Gaudet
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