In this finale I've included the last chapter, the epilogue and a finishing statement, I put them all together because I didn't think posting the last two things seperatly would be a good thing, I mean; together they're not even a thousand words! (Plus, this way I'm certain I'll stay within the limited time.)
Disclaimer: I'm just a no-talented mooching leach, that's why I write fanfiction in the first place... duh!
Chapter 4: Under the old oak tree
"Sorry about your book." The voice of the biracial girl was sincere. As she watched her friend stare into the plains, the suburbs beyond and across the hills the red sunset, his back facing her, she wondered what to say. The loss of something you've been working on for two and a half years was something she couldn't quite comprehend. After all, the longest she'd worked on something was four weeks. So instead of saying anything else, because there were a lot of things you could do wrong by talking (definitely when talking to Huey), she just leaned back against the oak tree on the hill.
"It's ok." It was hard to tell whether he meant it or not. Huey had a knack of telling the truth, but sharing pain or sadness (or pretty much any emotion) wasn't his strong suit. Jazmine wondered whether he needed a hug or some time alone and couldn't quite make up her mind. That was why she was so relieved when he started talking again. "It wasn't that good anyway... I need my début to be extraordinary. This one was ok, but not good enough." He waited for a comment, but it never came. His voice continued. "Besides, by doing this, Riley inspired me. I now have a great idea to write a book about growing up in a dysfunctional family and the little brother will represent the close-minded, ignorant masses of this country."
"Oh, really? That's great Huey! Well, not so great for Riley, but... he'll never read so he won't know!" With him cheering up, she felt relieved herself. "Any idea on what you are going to name it?" She asked casually.
"Yeah." The pause was purely for dramatic effect. "I'm with stupid." When his friend started to giggle, he turned around and stared at her. "I'm serious, you know."
"But it's still funny." She smiled at him. "So, how did things go between Riley and Cindy after that fight three days ago?"
"Riley had to clean up of course. I ended up having to help him, just because I didn't stop him. Cindy was dragged home, half for her protection, half for his. Even though they weren't allowed to talk to each-other any-more, they got in three more fights."
"Apparently the next day something led to an all out war between her troop and his, I don't know the details."
"Did anybody get hurt?" Though her empathy reached as far as to every troop-member, Huey could sense the underlining question.
"Some kids had to spend one night in the hospital, just to be safe, but Cindy and Riley got out relatively fine, remember they had two more fights. No, the only one who got really hurt was Riley's scoutmaster, apparently he wasn't too competent because recent events led him to having a supervising scoutmaster."
"What happened to him?"
"In the confusion of the battle he somehow got a scouting rope tied around his leg. Riley was chasing Cindy with his bb-gun and she ducked into her scoutmasters car. Too bad the rope was tied to this car's bumper. When she tried to run Riley over, his scoutmaster was dragged along."
"You're not just telling stories, right Huey? Because you know I don't like it when you tell stuff that ends up being lies."
The young boy shook his head sideways to confirm it wasn't a lie. "Apparently the guy's still in the hospital with two broken legs."
"Oh my Santa!"
Huey's eyebrow cocked at this exclamation, he led it slide however. "The second fight was yesterday, at the playground at school."
"Yeah, I saw that one! Wasn't that the one where Cindy got a tether-ball in her face? And she in return whooped his ass with a skipping rope?" Huey's nod was in agreement. "Why didn't you stop them?" She asked.
"Why didn't you?" This question as an answer made the little girl grow quiet.
"So when did they fight for the third time?" She asked after a long pause.
"This morning. Granddad took Riley over to the hospital to check on the scoutmaster and make my brother apologize, unfortunately Cindy's mom had a similar idea."
"Oh no... What happened?"
"Granddad's explanation was really vague. But it had something to do with scalpels, my brother getting a needle in his ass, someone getting stuck in one of those hospital beds you can move with a button, an orange for some reason and the scoutmaster being pushed out of the window and breaking his arms. It ended with a shock from a defibrillator."
The Dubois girl was metaphorically sitting on the edge of her seat. Though she didn't like her friends fighting and was horrified by their actions, she still needed to know more. It was like watching a train-wreck. "Who, who got zapped?"
"Judging by the afro my brother sported when getting home, my money's on him. Anyway, granddad said it was a good thing they already were in the hospital, because seeing them fight gave him a heart-attack." At her shocked expression he continued. "The doctors said he was fine, that he was overreacting and didn't even have a heart-attack."
They both stayed quiet for a while. Jazmine didn't know whether to be happy it wasn't Cindy or be sad it was Riley. Having friends fight each-other wasn't something she liked, it was too confusing. "Do you think they'll do it again? And why do they do it?" She asked him, hoping for an answer that would reassure her that everything would be back to normal soon.
"Riley asked me something similar when he got home. He said he didn't know why they always ended up fighting and asked me if I knew."
"What did you tell him?"
"I told him that he was experiencing a nigga-moment."
"A moment where two otherwise normal people start acting violent, dumb and dangerous over trivial things, I also told him that I believe that these trivial matters are only catalysts. The true underlining reasons are often pre-existing factors like their rivalry in the scouts, the pressure of conforming, the stress of his risk of losing his reputation among other things. I went on to tell him that the only way to get over nigga-moments is by acceptance, camaraderie and enjoying the time spent together."
"So, how can he do that?"
"He asked me the same thing. He said that last Sunday he got kicked out of the scouts, finally, but still had two fights after that, so it wasn't the conforming or stress any more. He'd gone to jail and, because of it, didn't have to worry about his rep. So I told him."
"Told him what? Told him what!"
"That he had to accept their time together before they could enjoy it and release all that anger. And that strange expression you have Jazmine, was exactly his. He didn't understand what I said either. And I'll explain to you as I explained to him. I said I didn't know for sure, but that it was very odd that he kept seeking out the girl he was fighting with. The same girl that tried to kill him. I told him, I think their basic energy and chemistry is probably really intense and caused those nigga-moments because they want to spend time together but don't understand how, they don't understand the relationship they want to have. And that ignorance turns into violence and hatred towards each-other and themselves for not understanding."
"Are you telling me you think Riley and Cindy are..." If it was so, she wondered why she hadn't seen it before.
"It's just a theory. I actually just told him too piss him off. It worked though, he tried to punch me. I blocked him and he walked out of the room, calling me a punk."
"Ooooh." Jazmine laughed. "And here I was thinking you were being serious."
"Hey, he burned my book, I get to make him mad as much I want from now on. Actually, I guess I took that liberty even before the incident."
"But you don't really think that they really are, you know, do you?"
"I really don't know, I know it sounded plausible and therefore seemed a good way to push his buttons. But really, I don't know, don't know a lot about that stuff anyway." He turned his attention back to the sunset, by now the last light shined dimly.
"But wouldn't it be cute if they were?" She asked, getting up and standing next to him, watching the sun disappear behind the hills.
"Hey Huey..." She started.
Huey's mind went into overdrive. "If she asks me if I'd ever have a nigga-moment with her, I'l punch her. … No, wait, I won't because that'd be a fight, being what she wants, but ..." He contemplated this dilemma at great speed but didn't reach the conclusion.
"... Am I going to appear in your book?" Was the end of her question.
"Huh? What, oh, sure. I'll have you symbolize something."
"Cool. Like? All the good in the world that's worth fighting for? The innocence of the human mind. The joy of living?" Her enthusiasm nearly dripped from the words.
The retired domestic leftist terrorist was thinking something more along the lines of the exploited lower classes who let themselves be pushed around, or the upper-class that was unaware of the problems in the real world as they lived in their perfect bubbles. "Yeah, something like that." He reassured her. "Something like that..."
Huey Freeman: "Granddad, you don't have to stay here. I'll say the lines, I promise."
Robert Freeman: "No you won't and don't lie to me because I've known you for eight years and never have you let an opportunity to defy me slide. So I'll stay here and you will do as you are told. And you better make it sound deep!"
Huey: "Fine, ahem, ... Cindy and Riley seemed to … … ..."
Robert: "Well boy? Seemed to...?"
Huey: "... … … Screw this, I'm going to mow the lawn."
Robert: "Hey boy, don't you walk out on this! Huey, get your behind back here. Don't make me take off this belt! Don't you open that door! Don't you enter that hallway! Don't get into that elevator! I mean it Huey, don't you dare to push that button! … Shoot! That boy needs to learn some respect. Now he left me here, with all these damn lines.
What's this bullshit anyways? What's it say here? 'Equality', yeah right, 'putting aside our differences and love over war?' who writes this crap? I'll tell you what this story teaches us. You dang kids don't have no respect for the elders. Running around getting into fights and what-not, not doin' what your told, messing up my house and running away from a good job like reading lines... Shoot, all you youngsters need a good ass-whooping, no homo. Yeesh, I'm out of here."
A moment from your humble writer:
To those who wonder about Riley and Cindy's relationship, and whether or not I actually implied a pairing between the two, you figure it out. Have it be what you read and want it to be. For me, I guess Huey could be right, but maybe, between all the kung-fu, gangster businesses, moral dilemma's, FBI, Jack Flowers and gunfights, they're just a bunch of kids. And maybe we shouldn't stress these vague and sometimes misleading (for the lack of a better word for it:) clues and just let them be kids, you know, let them figure it out.
Now all there's left is for me to thank you all for bearing through these difficult moments, I hope they were worth the trouble and time.
While I do hope to win this contest, I know there are some real good stories and great writers out there and it's been a delight to read their stories.
Even if it means lowering my odds, I implore you to write, the month's not over yet and the boondocks deserve your show off appreciation for bringing us the voice the oppressed millions, getting us to think, revealing the world's hypocrisy and keeping us entertained while doing so.
Anyway, it's been fun, thank you for reading.
Greetings from Antwerp,
P.S.: I know all this text after the epilogue might make me look like an egocentric, preachy douche-bag. But you don't care about something like that when you're an egocentric douche-bag. =)