memories of a friend…
Introduction:
why dad hated negroes
there was one in particular that loved to expose himself to me. he’d started when we were in grade school. i was the oldest of 3 girls, my sisters one and two years behind me, and i WAS the target of most of the boys in that neighborhood.
i’m not going to name names or cite ages, but my friend taught me about the male anatomy, and i taught him about the female anatomy.
okay, okay, so i was a nasty girl!…..i prefer to think i was curious beyond my years. my friend and i never got beyond heavy petting and mutual masturbation in large part because his mother was a good friend of my mother.
but this one day, he took me to a different place for fun. our usual was behind my grandfather’s house in an old barn, but this day he took me down the path behind the old schoolhouse where the wild plum bushes were. i’d been there often, but i was curious to know why we weren’t doing our usual routine, one that i’d become very fond of.
i knew we were getting close to the old house the black people lived in as we approached the edge of the berry patch. i kept kicking him, telling him we needed to go back, but he wouldn’t listen.
my mother had given explicite warnings to us as kids that if we went to the patch, to never venture to the north side, and i knew we were at the edge of the north side. i could see the old house, and almost fainted as i watched him run into the clearing between our hidden location, and towards the dark figure in the dirt yard.
i stood and watched, my heart racing as i saw my friend begin to talk to the young negroe. i knew for a fact that i could out-run my friend in a foot race, so i took solace in beleiving i could out-run his friend too.
i stood behind a thicket, and watched the young negro’s gaze turn towards me. my guts turned to jelly as i watched my friend grin and nod, him waving to me to come over.
i ran home in a blind fury, never giving the briars their just reward as they tore my skin. i told my mother that i’d fallen from my bike, and waited to see the little asshole the next day in school.
in first period, i confronted him with my fists balled, putting one in his face as i glanced to see if the teacher was in the room. he was grinning as he took my fist and put it at my side. “it’s not like that, and you need to calm down!,” he said. we both sat up in our seats as the teacher walked in.
in the cafeteria he explained that he was a friend. “how is he a friend?”, i asked. “we’re not supposed to go back there that far, and you know it!” i was fuming as i sat at our usual table. “i go back there all the time,” he said as he sat. “you mean we’re supposed to do what we’re told all the time?” he grinned as he took a bite of the pbj sandwich. i returned my face to my tray and began to eat my lunch, knowing what he was getting at. he took a swig of his milk and leaned my way,”if you hadn’t run off so fast, he was going to let you see it.”
being raised in that era in the deep south, all white girls had been warned, and some had heard whispers about the black male “it”, and of course he knew how curious i’d been about his “it”, so to him, letting me see the ultimate “it” was his way of being a friend i guess????…i didn’t understand his logic at the time, but later in life i began to appreciate it.
in hushed tones, with his eyes darting wildly to see who might be paying attention, he told me if i was impressed with his “it”, i was not going to beleive his friend’s “it”. “he can do it,” he said as he looked at me wide-eyed and gulped, taking a drink of his milk. “you mean?,” i said as i searched his eyes. “he’s older than us then, that’s why!” he shook his head and said,”he’s in our same grade over on Capitol Highway.” my eyes grew wide, and he got up saying, “come with me again this afternoon.” there was something very different about him as far as our personal talk . he knew that i’d be down on the corner after homework.
this time he ran, and i broke into a run that wouldn’t make him feel like a wus as i hovered upon his heels. when we entered the plum patch, he turned and said, “he’s gonna be mad if you run again…are you gonna?” i shook my head no, and followed him through the briars that had little peices of my skin draped about them from the day before.
i thought of all the nights my sisters and i had laid in our beds with my father railing at my mother for having worn ‘that dress’ as they got back from the grocery, him chiding her for wanting to be a slut for the dark bag-boys at the check-out…..and the sounds that came from their bedroom deep in the night afterwards……
i knew that my father’s words were like us being admonished for stealing a cookie from the heavy jar on the back of the counter, and i knew that the sounds from the bedroom were like my friend and my’s fun. easy connection? well it was to me at the time.
i wanted to see, and my friend was loving it.
i watched him walk back up to the unpainted house to a figure that, for unknown reasons to me at the time, made my guts churn. my friend had told me “it” could shoot sperm. that’s what he meant when he said he could do it. all of our fun had been his “it” jerking wildly as he shuddered, but what the things hanging beneath “it” weren’t able to do yet, he was saying this boy our age, could actually do!
they walked towards me, and i stood as he waved. i began to walk towards them feeling the sticky mess between my legs as the cotten stuck to my privates. this, my usual, was for all of that to have been on his fingers by now, and i had grown accustomed to the predictability of us. i had liked it, and he was upsetting all of it with this new forbidden foray.
they stopped a few feet in front of me, me standing in the same cotten dress i’d been wearing in school that day. i’d seen black boys before, and he wasn’t any different. same odd wooly hair, same wide nose, same thick lips. my friend tried to introduce us, but he never met my eyes, looking my way, then looking down and to the side.
“it’s okay Calvin, just relax okay?,” my friend said. he nodded, still not looking at me. “this is the girl i told you about…..this is the girl that will let you see a white pussy!” Calvin looked at me then, with an audible swallow, as i gawked at my friend. “you told him i’d let him see it?” “what?…you know this is what you wanted or you wouldn’t be here, so stop with the attitude okay?”
i nodded, knowing the promise of seeing “it” do it, was why i was here. and now it was me avoiding Calvin’s eyes. Calvin was wearing a pair of dingy denim overalls, and i heard my friend say, “show her.” i knew the sounds well as i heard the thick brass buckles being released, knowing in my mind that all i’d seen of this negro was a body clad in nothing but that garb.
there was nothing but silence as i averted my gaze to the tree line to my left, waiting for my friend to offer some reason for me not to run away. it never came. i looked at the two of them, and my eyes went straight to the swaying hose of his negroe friend. my knees felt weak as i beheld all of it. my first shock was that it had a tight grove of hair where all of it left his body, my second was the pink tip, as pink as mine or my friends genitalia, peeking out of the long sheath of black skin.
“show it to him, and he’ll do it….he told me that he would.” i looked at my friends eyes briefly, then going nervously back to it…..i found the hem of my dress and lifted it, staring wide-eyed at his nakedness, not beleiving what i was seeing. that was what my father was afraid of i thought, as i peeled my soaked panties to mid-thigh.
he took it in his hand, just like my friend did, but there was so much more for him to hold. each time i saw the pink tip expose itself, my knees felt weak…the black skin was wet and i was mesmerised by the thickness, and the excited state he was in…..i was shaking in my shoes literally as the viens bulged,and the dark wooly eggs swayed beneath his sex.
his eyes were glassy, and his mouth open as he milked his sex. i saw a white froth begin to ooze and i knew that was what my friend meant……that was sperm!…i couldn’t help myself as i began to touch the swollen parts of me, and then it really happened.
my fingers stopped between my lips as the black hose shot out a long thick gout….the negroe was making sounds, and it was followed by more and more until his knees were shaking!
i tripped as i tried to run, falling flat on my face as i untangled my panties from my ankles. i found them and pulled them to my waist, and as i struggled to my feet my friend caught my arm saying, “he can do it again….just relax, he’s not going to hurt you! he just wants to do with you what we do!”
the next few minutes are a blur to me now…….i know i found myself in his old house with my friends insistence, a house i’d been condemned to never see, and on that afternoon i found out what my father was afraid of. my friend showed him what i liked, and he showed my friend what i never knew i liked. he licked and sucked me, and i let him look with my friend as i held my trembling legs wide. through my deep breathes from my unbeleivable release, something i’d never, ever felt before, i saw through hazy eyes my friend pulling his, and the black evil looking hose spattering the wall of the smelly house with baby making fluid….his lustful looks at my display had caused his penis to shoot sperm again!!!
my friend had gone off to summer camp at the end of the school year, as he always did, and my mother told me verbatim not to go to the berry patch alone, telling my sisters that if they saw me going into the wood behind the school to go with me. there was a knowing lingering look in her eyes as she walked out of the room. it was as if she knew.
my mother was there during the day maybe thirty-minutes, having a job at the local department store, so it was up to us and the dark nanny to be good when she wasn’t there during summer. the only way to get them off my back as per mother’s orders, was to include them. both were aware of boys nasty desires as we whispered in the nights, so i knew.
we went to the plum patch the next day, telling Viola we’d be back for supper. they followed me hastily down the well-worn path to the edge of the clearing……i’d never forgotten, and i wanted them to make sense of the late-night mayhem in our house after Viola had gone-away…..after the doors to their bedroom shut.
“there he is,” i whispered as all of us peered through the foliage. “he don’t look like nothing special,” my middle sister said. “oh yeah,” i quipped……”he has a thing that daddy is afraid of…and it shoots sperm!”
“do you want to see?,” i asked. no sounds came from them as they both nodded their heads in unison. i went to the clearing and they saw me raise my skirt, and they saw the dark stalk jutting out of the dingy overalls. this was the only way i could continue to do what i thought was more nasty play, but he had other ideas i soon found out.
