Chapter 38

             “Meadows Real Estate, this is George speaking.  How may I help you on this glorious day,” George answered his phone in his usual flamboyant manner.

            “Hello, honey,” he heard his wife say in the receiver, “Tabitha is stuck at the University.  Apparently Shawanda’s car broke down and is in the shop so she can’t give her a ride.  Can you . . .”

            “Yes, yes” George interrupted, anticipating her question.  “Let me finish drawing up this offer and I’ll pick her up on my way home.  Where is she going to be?” 

            “At the Union” came the response.

            “Fine, I’ll take care of it.  See you later, hon.”  With that George hung up the phone, finished with his clients, then headed out across town.  Swinging his B.M.W. into the driveway of the Union Building, he pulled up to the front door.  Tabitha, who ran out obviously happy to see him, was followed by Shawanda.

            “Hey Muscles, can I get a ride too?”  She questioned.

“Sure” he said with a wide grin.  “Hop in.”

            Tabitha climbed into the back seat and Shawanda plunked down in the front seat.

            “Muscles,” she said, “I have to hand it to you.  You got it going on.”

            Although he wasn’t used to the slang talk, he could tell she was impressed and he was pleased. 

Just as he put his foot on the accelerator to take off, he had to slam on the brakes!  A figure came out of nowhere and jumped in front of the car.

            “Get out!” he yelled.  George now recognized the figure was none other than Jesse King.  Shawanda pushed the button to run down the automatic window and just as she did Jesse reached in and unlocked the door and opened it.

            “Hey, wait a minute!” Shawanda screamed as he grabbed her arm and began to pull her out of the car.

            Slamming the gear into park, George leapt out of his side of the car and started around to the other side to confront Shawanda’s attacker.

As Jesse saw him moving toward him he held out a straightened left arm and one finger pointing at George.  “Whitey!  You betta get back in your ride and get outta here or I’ll whip your behind all the way back to suburbia” Jesse yelled.

            “Jesse don’t!”  Shawanda screamed at him as she shoved him backward and placed herself between him and George, who was still moving toward them.

            George’s heart was pounding and his face was red and his jaws clenched.  He hadn’t been in a fist fight since he was a little boy but he knew he was stronger than Jesse, although probably less experienced in hand to hand combat.

            “What’s the matter with you, Girl?” Jesse questioned Shawanda as he shifted his focus on her.  “You can’t stay away from this white dude?”

            “I . . . I was just getting a ride   . . .” Shawanda began to explain before being interrupted by George , who was now directly behind her.

            “Look!” he said, speaking to Jesse, “Even if you are her boyfriend it doesn’t give you the right to . . .”

            “Boy!” Jesse yelled.  “Boy!?” he repeated.  “I know you ain’t got the nerve to call me a boy in broad daylight without a sheet over your head.” Jesse yelled back.

            Shawanda turned her head toward George with a pleading look in her eyes as she kept a hand on Jesse’s chest to hold him in check.  “Please, Mr. Meadows, just leave!” she urged.

            “Oh he’s Mr. Meadows now, and I’m the boy! Huh?” Jesse spat out.

            In one swift move, Shawanda reached in and grabbed her book bag off the floor of the car and took off running across the front lawn of the Union, and down the street.  The move caught both men off guard and by surprise.  They each glared at each other for a brief moment as they clenched their fists, then Jesse started after Shawanda.

            “I’ll see you another day.  This ain’t over!” he yelled over his shoulder as he attempted to catch up with the fleeing female.

George got back in his car and slammed his fist against the steering wheel.  He was perspiring heavily and his heart was still racing.

“It’ll be O.K.” Tabitha offered from the back seat.

“Huh?” he responded, turning quickly toward her.  He had forgotten for a moment that she was there.

“Yeah, right” he said as he slammed the car into gear and sped off.

When they arrived home, Juanita could tell something was wrong.  His shirt collar was uncharacteristically wet with perspiration and his brow was furrowed.  This wasn’t her happy go lucky husband.

“What happened, Dear?” she questioned.

“I don’t want to talk about it!” he roughly replied.

“George, what is it?” Juanita demanded, becoming alarmed at his response.

“Jesse!  That Jesse!” he replied.  “I was so mad!  I could’ve just squeezed the life out of him!”

“Why?  What happened?” she queried.

George moved to the kitchen, pulled out a glass, pushed the lever on the refrigerator door for ice cubes, poured himself a Coke and began to share the afternoon’s events.

            As he concluded his story he questioned himself.  “Where was my Christianity?  What about ‘turn the other cheek’ and all that?  I mean I really blew a fuse!  But he had no right to grab her by the arm and drag her out of my car like she was some rag doll!”  He leaned back in his chair, took a sip of Pepsi, and looked out into space.

            “You do really care about her, don’t you?” Juanita stated.

            “Yeah, I do” he said simply.

            He couldn’t hide it anymore.  He cared.  He really cared.