Pride. (a short story) by Christian Harvey

HOW BLACK?!
TOO BLACK!

HOW PROUD?!
TOO PROUD!!

 

The chants could be heard for miles as droves of black people could be seen marching only being seen in street light . The mob was dressed in all manners of fashions with weapons, pipes, bats , chains and God knows what else.  I was on the front porch when I saw some people I knew marching with their families. Even the kids my age had weapons and they were handling them with the utmost confidence as if they’d been training secretly for who knows how long. I looked at my watch to see how long I had til pops came home in the morning it was already late. 7:30pm the watch read I looked back up the street to the next street light to see if Dutch Palma and the rest of my friends were still in sight. I heard some one near by, “Yeerrp” they said sharply . It was Dutch with Menute and his brother Mansa ,”yerrrp whaddup Bro you heard what happened ?!” , they all exclaimed . “They shot an off duty cop who was tryna stop a crime in progress after he said he was a cop, I guess they didn’t believe him!?” We all sneered and said ,” FUCK OUTTA HERE” , in unison and burst out in resentful laughter. “Here” , Musa whispered and handed everyone a pair of brass knuckles and a switchblade. No one said anything as we didn’t know what was to come of tonight , no one did. “City ya pops home?” Menute asked is disbelief that I was allowed to partake in the current events. As honest I usually am I have an evasive answer, “I don’t know . I just came outside when I heard so many people yelling and banging pipes and dragging sticks against fences. I might as well stay out now if he is.” We all chuckled as we started to catch up with the younger crowd while the vast amount of people grew to almost all of the black community. What started out as a grieving family quickly grew to an angry group of people which spread from house to house in the community because we are all sort of close. We followed the chants to what seemed to be a poorly thrown together concert held in the biggest park in the black section of Trailton but was a rally for what was to be done with the corrupt municipal and state government we were dealing with . There was a group of 14 men up front and they walked through the crown making sure that every face present was black which took some time with all the people there , even with the help of their associates whom got to the outskirts of the gathering and stood guard there. When the men up front got the signal from various people among the crowd he began. ” We all know each other here look around,” the man paused and even looked around himself. ” There is no need for introductions and you know what we came here to accomplish ,” the crowd roared in agreement. ” This is how it will be done.” . The man opened a cardboard box ripping the tape and emptying composition notebooks on the table he was standing on . ” If you want things to change and want to be actively involved write your name in all capital letters . if you wish to be a non active but be involved by donating what ever you can write you name in lower case but do not sign in cursive please for legal reasons. We will be in contact with you in the order that your name was printed in the notebook. Thank you ” . People immediately printed their names eager for change rushing but in the most orderly fashion I had ever seen this many black people act before. By the time everyone in front of us signed it was getting late , my watch read 10:54pm I was worried my neighbors would call pop if she doesn’t think I was home but it was finally our turn. We all stood parallel to each other all four of us one at each table and wrote our names in all caps , despite the looks from the guys watching the books we did it. I wondered to myself why so many people were singing in all caps while we walked home. I must’ve said it aloud because Menute answered ,”Maybe it’s because they didn’t know who would be next if whites are killing black cops now to and getting away with it like its okay if your a white cop and shoot anyone black, good or bad.” We crossed the street and cops were everywhere in hopes of arresting someone but because it was so quick and so quiet they weren’t fast enough. Dutch added, “Aren’t they supposed to protect us?” Sarcastically. Musa questioned “Would it be the same agreeable people commenting if whites we being shot everyday for unnecessary things? To many lives have been lost at the hands of police because of the negative conditions of something people can’t help, the color of their skin.” He ended his tiny rant as we neared my house. “This is the beginning of a powerful summer.”, I affirmed.” Dapping everyone up before parting ways when got back to my house they walked on with the now more dispersed crowd of people.