x
His mother coughed again.
“I mean daydreaming -like in class,” he replied. “Mom, this is Jeanie,” he said, turning to his mother, “and she is a girl-friend from class.”
He made sure to pause between the word’s girl and friend, so it sounded like two separate words, but he still stammered. Nobody could be cool in front of their mother, not even Mark.
“Yes, I met Jeannie,” his mom said, “and she’s lovely. “I’m going downstairs to finish the laundry. Why don’t you take her out, and show her around, maybe introduce her to some of your friends?”
“Great idea, Mom,” Mark agreed.
Mark told Jeanie he was daydreaming about her upstairs when his mom was out of earshot.
“Am I still dreaming?” he asked her.
Jeanie laughed, “It’s becoming a habit.”
“You seem to have that effect on me.”
“What were you daydreaming this time?” she asked.
“What I was going to say to you on Saturday?” he said.
“Oh,” Jeanie replied.
“How did you find me?” Mark asked.
“I discovered I only live a few houses up from you by accident. I was walking to the store when I saw your last name on the mailbox. I took a chance to see if you were the same “Winters” from my class.”
“Wow, that was brave of you.”
“Not brave,” she said, “desperate, I needed to get out of the house, but I didn’t want to go to the store by myself either, and I don’t know anyone, so when I saw the name “Winters,” I rolled the dice.”
“Outstanding,” he said.
“Would you like to come with me?” Jeanie asked a little sultry.
“Indeed, I would,” Mark replied.
Mark got so caught up in the moment that he rushed her out the door before Jeanie could stop him.
“Wait, Mark, tell your mom we're leaving,” she said.
Mark ran through the door and yelled down the stairs to his mom, “Mom, I’m going to the store. Do you want anything?”
“No, but you better not ruin your appetite, dinner will be ready in half-hour, and Jeanie can stay if she wants.”
Jeanie heard her.
Mark grabbed his jacket and ran back out to Jeanie.
“What were you going to buy at the store?” Mark asked.
“I don’t know,” she said, “I have a craving for Ice Cream.”
“What flavor?” Mark asked.
“Vanilla.”
“Good call,” Mark said, “but I must have sprinkles.”
“Strawberry?” Jeanie asked.
“Yea,” Mark looked at her, a little surprised, “They're my favorite.”
“Mine too,” Jeanie agreed, “we have ice cream in our freezer, but I have to have sprinkles; otherwise, I won’t eat it.”
Wow, Mark thought to himself.
As they walked, Mark started telling Jeannie about the history of their subdivision, their school, the town, and some of the recent major events.
“They want to make this sub-division into a gated community,” Mark told her.
“Why?” Jeanie asked.
“Because of my father,” he said, “Last year, he came home early from work and discovered four or five inner-city kids had broken into our yard and were swimming in our Pool.”
“You have a pool? Jeanie asked.
“Yes, hey, why don’t you come over tomorrow, and we can go swimming.”
Jeanie laughed, “Well, finish telling me your story first.”
“My dad caught these black kids swimming in our pool when he came home early from work one day, he called the police first, and he ran out of the house with his rifle.”
“What happened?” she asked.
“They were in the pool and tried to run, but he shot off a round in the air before they could jump the fence.”
“So, they got arrested?” Jeanie asked.
“Yes, he and the mayor are golfing buddies.”
“What does your dad do?” Jeanie asked.
“He’s a prosecuting attorney who works for the city, which translates into making sure blacks and other minorities stay out of New Baltimore Heights.”
“That sounds just like my dad,” Jeanie said, “Were you there when it happened?”
“No, I was at school but heard all about it over dinner. There was even a write-up in the paper. My dad made the front page of our local rag. And the city even gave him a metal plaque -it hangs above the fireplace in our living room as I speak.”
“Very impressive,” she said.
“He bought several copies of the newspaper with him on it and had them reprinted, matted, and framed. He has one in his office downtown.”
“So, your family is famous?” she asked.
“Infamous,” Mark corrected, “The next day, everybody in school asked me what happened, but I told them I didn’t know because I wasn’t there. I was in class like them.”
“What happened after that?” Jeanie asked.
“I think he got a raise,” Mark said.
“No, I mean to the kids after they were arrested.”
“I have no idea. My dad wanted to prosecute them himself, but the city wouldn’t allow it.”
“So, they never came back for another swim?”
“No, they were just high-school kids, skipping class and looking for something to do. When rich kids go to poor neighborhoods, they call it “slumming,” I don’t know what they call it when poor kids go to rich neighborhoods.”
“Trouble! Jeanie replied.
“Exactly,” Mark agreed.
“Do you think your dad would have shot at them if they kept running?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” Mark considered, “I think they thought he would have.”
“Could he have done that?” she asked. “I mean, with them being minors and all?”
“Well, you can’t “legally” shoot someone in the back because the rationale is that your life was not in any immediate danger. Don’t quote me, but that’s the standard for “Justifiable Homicide.” I’m not a lawyer, but even I know that much.”
“Maybe your dad was more scared of them than they were of him?” Jeanie suggested.
“Yeah, they may have been kids, but they were big kids,” Mark explained, “all taller than my dad, and he’s over six feet.”
“Did they do any actual damage?” Jeanie asked.
“Not really, they might have trashed our yard a little by tearing out a few of my mom’s rosebuds, and we did find a broken window in the pool house, but I don’t think they tried to get into our *home; otherwise, the alarm would have gone off.”
“Was your mom home too?” Jeanie asked.
“No, then my dad would have shot them, he’s hardened because of his job.”
“What do you mean?” Jeanie asked.
“Well, he works for the justice system, so he knows what’s wrong with it -like anyone in their field.
He doesn’t believe that prison is a punishment anymore. There is no rehabilitation, and he sees the same people going through the system repeatedly. So, he’s a staunch supporter of the Death Penalty. He’s trying to petition the state to bring it back.”
“Isn’t that extreme?” Jeanie asked.
“For the average law-abiding citizen, yes. But for most people in the inner city -No. The black mentality is that anytime you earn money, it’s a job. Maybe not a legitimate job, but you’re still getting paid for it. So, stealing, robbing, pimping, selling drugs, and killing are all legitimate because they make money.”
Mark saw Jeanie shaking her head. She disagreed.
“Ghetto violence is just a way of life. Do you remember that Gangster rap bullshit from the nineties?” Mark asked.
“Yes,” Jeanie nodded.
“It did nothing but glorify killing, drinking 40s, and getting high for damn near that entire decade. No legitimate artist from the hood had street credibility until they went to prison first.”
“Does your dad know who killed Tupac?” Jeanie asked.
“I think he did.”
“You’ll understand why I won’t be staying for dinner.”
“Look, all I know is that the worse their criminal record, the more discs they sold. One thug even put his rap sheet on the back cover of his CD.”
“You believe in the death penalty too?” Jeanie asked.
“I don’t know, I don’t work in that field; he wants me to be a lawyer like him, but after I see what it’s done to him…. It would be frustrating to lock up the same people repeatedly. My father said they might as well put revolving doors in the jails and prisons the way the convicted are in and out of the system.
The media use phrases like “Parole Violations,” which means they're out committing more crimes until they get arrested again.”
“I could never do his job,” Jeanie agreed.
“Every new prison that’s built is immediately filled the same day. Society cannot afford to house, cloth, and feed people locked up for their entire life, only to be released after they’re too old to be a danger to society.”
Jeanie signed.
“You want to hear something crazy?” Mark asked.
“I don’t know,” Jeanie replied.
“One of the kids even left his undergarments in our pool.”
“Ewwwww,” Jeanie replied.
“Yea, the idiot was naked the entire time he was in the Pool, and my father wouldn’t let him get dressed until the Police came, and then the Police wouldn’t let him get dressed while they arrested him. They threw a blanket over him instead.”
“Sounds like a lot of drama,” Jeanie remarked.
“Yeah, but what are the odds? I mean, of all houses, it had to be ours.”
“Why didn’t they just swim in the lake? She asked.
“Isn’t it right down the road?”
“I guess they preferred our pool,” Mark answered.
“Whatever happened to the undergarments?” Jeanie asked.
“I’m wearing them right now,” Mark said, pulling up his shorts so she could see his Joe-Boxers.
“Ewwwww,” Jeanie replied.
“Well, my mom wanted to mail them back to the owner -after she washed them, of course, but it’s not like he wrote his name and address on the tag inside.”
Jeannie laughed, and her entire face lit up when she did. Her beauty was stunning. Mark was glad that he could make her laugh.
“That was so nice of your mom to think of them,” she replied, “I mean, considering the circumstances.”
“Yea, but in the end, the undergarments were confiscated by the police, so they could be used as evidence to prosecute the owner.”
“I would have been horrified if they had been my underwear,” Jeanie said.
“You don’t like Joe-Boxers?” Mark asked.
“I would have denied they were mine,” she replied, “no matter what brand.”
“What about the police catching you on the premises?”
“I would have told them that those undergarments were floating in the pool when I got there,” Jeanie said.”
“And your explanation for being there in the first place?”
“I would tell them I’m a sleepwalker, somnambulistic, a medical condition, and that I could not be held accountable for my actions.”
“You're good,” he said, “Maybe you should be a lawyer.”
“Ewwwww,” Jeanie replied.
“Somnambulistic,” Mark laughed. “What is that Latin?”
“I’m just glad your mom wasn’t there,” Jeanie said.
“My dad would have shot them on sight, but if my mom were home alone, she would have baked them cookies.”
“For trespassing?” she asked.
“They could have raped her,” he replied.
“Mark, that’s not funny,” Jeanie said, and then she shivered, her nipples became erect from the cold breeze, and she crossed her arms. And then she sneezed.
“You have allergies?” he asked.
“Yes, and they're horrible.”
Mark removed his jacket and held it open for her.
“Thank You, Mark,” she said, smiling, as she put her arms through the sleeves.
Suddenly a giant wasp appeared out of nowhere, circling Jeanie twice but avoiding Mark, who was waving it away. Jeanie dropped right in front of him and put her hands over her head for protection.
It was a little-known fact that flying insects are more attracted to redheads than any other hair color.
“Seems like you made a new friend,” Mark said.
Jeanie was still kneeling. She was terrified of bees.
Is he gone yet? She asked.
The bee flew away just as fast as it appeared.
“Yes, he’s gone,” Mark said, offering his hand to help her up.
“Are you allergic to bees?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” Jeanie said fearfully. “I’ve never been stung before.”
Jeanie primped and adjusted her long red hair, which cascaded over her shoulders and flowed down the back of Marks's jean jacket.
Mark was reminded of that song by the Police, “Every little thing she does is Magic,” the lead singer could have written that song for Jeanie.
Mark was glad that Jeanie decided to wear his jacket, which was too big for her everywhere except her chest. There might be other guys at the party store, it was a popular place, and Mark didn’t want them staring at her endowment or making rude comments.
He was very jealous and possessive, and even though he had just met her, he already considered Jeanie his girlfriend. She just didn’t know it yet.
“Thank-You Sir,” she replied.
“I’m just an old-fashioned guy who knows how to treat a woman like a lady.”
“Well, I’m a modern woman, but I can still appreciate the manners of a gentleman.”
“Jeanie, I know this will sound weird, but I need your help.”
“No, don’t worry, she said, “I have money.”
“No, when we walk in the store, I have a friend I’m trying to impress. Would you pretend to be my girlfriend?”
“What?” Jeanie replied.
“The store owner is a friend of mine, and I need your help to impress him.”
“Oh, Mark, I would, but I just met you,” she protested, and because I don’t know anything about you, it could get very uncomfortable….”
“If you play along,” he interrupted, “I’ll buy you a double scoop of vanilla ice cream.”
“Jeanie wasn’t going to take his first offer, “With strawberry sprinkles?”
“Done!” Mark settled and offered his hand for her to shake.
ns 15.158.61.20da2
