The voices inside Docs head were all
screaming at once...
a sure sign that racists were
approaching...
at times like this, Doc could hear
nothing outside his own bizarre
reality.
Now they were immitating the sound of
a phone ringing...
"Doc will you PLEASE get the phone?"
Melanie yelled to him from the
kitchen, "I've got my
hands full with dinner"
Doc approached the ringing phone as if
it were a ticking bomb.
He took it between forefinger and thumb and held it near, but not
right at his ear.
"Have the fucking racists got my phone number now?" Doc wondered.
He held his breath and listened in silence...
the voices inside his head also listened in silence...
Doc, Doc, are you there man?" A voice asked.
"Doc exhaled, and the voices went back to their normal sniggering".
"yeah, I'm here, how you doing John?" Doc replied.
John was Doc's brother. He didn't see him as often as he liked,
but they kept in touch. It was
when he was around his big brother, that the voices seemed most at
bay,
as if just the presence of John helped ground Doc into reality.
"Did you get my card with my change of address?" John asked.
"Sure did", replied Doc "how did the move go? Did you get everything
all set up?"
"I thought those contractors would never get finished" said John,
"they were going at it
for 3 weeks. It was worth it though, for what we paid for the place
and the improvements,
we got a lot more house for our money".
"Good", said Doc, "I'll have to come see the place sometime".
"Thats why I was calling Doc", replied John,
"I wanted to invite you and melanie and the kids for the weekend".
"Sounds good", said Doc, "So, whats the neighborhood like?"
"I gotta tell you Doc, enthused John, "It's really nice, a real mix of
people,
I've already met some of my neighbors,
and everyone seems great".
"Oh", sneered Doc, "they must all be brothers then"
"No", said John, "it's a mix, black and white.
On one side we have this wonderful
old colored lady... old as the hills,
knows everything about gardening.
Nothing gets left at the curb around her,
everything finds a use in her garden. hell,
we put out a wooden single bed that had been
left by the previous people... she dragged it home, said it will
make a great flower bed".
"sounds interesting", replied Doc, "so whats your other neighbor
like?"
"I met him and his family just this afternoon" said John
"he's a white guy, looks about 45.
He was playing in the street with a little blond girl.
While we chatted, his pregnant wife came out. She looks quite a bit
younger,
so I'm sure there's a story there".
"I'm sure there is" chuckled Doc, "white folks, can't live with them,
can't kill them"
"No, really" said John, "he seemed to be a really decent fellow, quite
pleasant and friendly.
There was one funny thing though".
"Oh, only one?" asked Doc.
"Yes" John replied. "We had just started talking when I
noticed he had a wooden post in his front yard, and a
plaque with a name on it attached to it".
"That your name"? I asked. "he laughed and said no, it was the name of
the place,
like it was a mansion out of Gone With the Wind or something."
"Heh" snorted Doc, "damn whites, always so full of themselves".
The voices, untill now silent, began to sneer, a sure sign something
was going to happen.
"Naw", answered John "they seem like decent folks, hell, you could
meet them if you want".
"Sure", replied Doc, "whatever."
The last thing Doc wanted was to meet more decent white folks.
He knew that no matter how decent they seemed, they were all
racists...
oh so nice nice to his face, but once his back was turned..
"Well" said John, "I have to go, time for work"
"Ok John", replied Doc "I'll talk to you soon"
All at once the voices screamed in unison... "THE NAME.. WHAT WAS THE
NAME ON THE SIGN?"
"By the way John", asked Doc "what was the name on the sign?"
"It was weird" said John" some word I never heard of before".
"ok, so what was it"? Doc asked, his voice more anxious this time.
"Nastrand"
To be continued....
Nastrander's Realm/freedom@niagara.com/September 17 2004
