I really don’t like black people.
But why? he asked himself. Have you ever tried to know or like a black person?
No, he concluded.
Well, you’re about to do just that.
He walked to the dining room through a very light mist. The smell of death hung in the damp air, but it was an odor that Ben scarcely noticed anymore.
“Mr. Raines,” Cecil greeted him in the candlelit dining area. “How about a martini? No ice, of course, but I make a wicked martini.”
“That would be great.” A martini-drinking black? He had thought most blacks drank Ripple and Thunderbird.
Come on, Raines! You’re thinking like an ignorant bigot.
He sat down at the table. Moment of truth. He smiled a secret smile.
“Something funny, Mr. Raines?” a slender man seated to his right asked.
“Not really. Sad, more than anything else, I suppose.”
“Ever sat down and had dinner with blacks?” a woman inquired. Her tone was neither friendly nor hostile… just curious.
Hell, Ben thought—they’re as curious about me as I am about them. “Not really. Only in the service.”
“Well, I can promise you we won’t have ham hocks or grits,” she said with a smile.
“To tell the truth,”—Ben looked at her—“I like them both.”
A few laughed aloud; the rest smiled. An uncomfortable silence fell around them; it was punctuated by shifting of feet, clearing of throats, much looking at the table, the walls. It seemed that no one had anything to say, or, as was probably the case, knew how to say it.
“May I help anyone do anything?” Ben asked. “With dinner,” he added.
“We thought we’d serve it buffet-style,” Cecil said. “Easier that way. Pardon my curiosity, Mr. Raines—”
“Ben. Just call me Ben.”
“Ben. Good. I’m Cecil. But I believe I read somewhere that you lived in Louisiana.”
“That’s correct.”
“You’re a long way from home.”
“Burying my family: brothers, sisters, parents. Cairo, Mt. Vernon, Springfield, Normal, then into the suburbs of Chicago.”
The woman Ben had thought white—he still wasn’t sure what she was—asked, “They’re all dead?”
“All but the brother in Chicago.” He looked at her. She was very good-looking. No negroid features about her; but Ben sensed she was black, at least to some degree. “Your family?” he asked her.
“All dead. Cecil and his wife found me wandering… walking out of Chicago… getting out while I could. They took me in.”
Cecil’s wife entered the room and announced that dinner was ready. Ben was introduced to her. Lila. She was friendly and spoke as though she was highly educated. Cecil told him she had been a college professor. The news was not surprising.
The meal was deliciously prepared, and all ate slowly, enjoying the luxury of good food and good conversation. No one mentioned the slight odor that hung about them.
“Have any of you heard about radiation levels in and around the cities that took nuclear hits?” Ben asked.
“The upper east coast is the worst,” Cecil said. “Those cities took a concentration of bombs, most of them nuclear. San Francisco took a low-level hit. What is it called…? I don’t remember. Kills the people but leaves the buildings intact. The United States was lucky in that respect. I’ve heard Russia and China really are gone.”
“How about winds that carry the radiation?”
Cecil shrugged. “There again, nuclear warfare had progressed considerably… in our favor. I have heard there is no danger from that. But… who knows. I’m not a scientist.”
Ben began putting faces and names together. The woman who had asked about his family was Salina. Salina Franklin. There were Jake and Nora, a Clint and Jane Helms, and Anwar Ali Kasim.
Ben took an immediate dislike to Kasim, and felt equally bad vibes coming from him. Kasim confirmed his feelings when he spoke.
“How come you didn’t stay with your brother and his buddies and help kill all the niggers in the city?” Kasim asked, his eyes alive with hate.
Salina rolled her eyes and shook her head in disgust. Lila sighed and looked at her husband. Cecil said, “Kasim, you’re a jerk!”
“And he’s white!” Kasim spat his hate at Ben.
“Does that automatically make me bad?” Ben asked.
“As far as I’m concerned, yes,” Kasim said. “And I don’t trust you.”
“Maybe,” Salina said, her words quiet, “he’s just a man who sat down to have a quiet dinner. He hasn’t bothered a soul—brother.” She smiled at her humor.
Kasim didn’t share her humor. “I see,” he said, the words softly spoken but tinged with hate. “Well, now… Zebra got herself a yearning for some white cock?”
She slapped him hard, hitting him in the mouth with the back of her hand, bloodying his lips.
Kasim drew back his hand to hit her and found himself looking down the barrel of a .44 magnum. Cecil jacked back the hammer and calmly said, “I would hate to ruin this fine dinner, Kasim, since raw brains have never been a favorite of mine. But if you hit her, I’ll blow your fucking head off!”
Kasim looked at the man in disbelief. He nodded his head when he saw the look in Cecil’s eyes. “You’d kill me… for him?” He jerked his head toward Ben.
“You’re twisting words out of context, Kasim,” Cecil said, the muzzle of the .44 never wavering. “But you’re good at that.”
Kasim put both hands on the table, one on each side of his plate. “You know what those white bastards did to my sister.”
“I know. But Ben Raines didn’t do it.”
“He’s still white!”
Ben rose from the table. “I’d better leave, I suppose.”
“Yes.” Cecil surprised him. “I think it would be best. And I’m sorry for having to say that. I was looking forward to some intelligent conversation later on.”
“Perhaps we’ll meet again,” Ben suggested.
“You put your white ass in New Africa, motherfucker,” Kasim said, “and it’ll be buried there.”
“I will make every effort to avoid New Africa,” Ben promised. “Wherever that might be.”
“Mississippi, Alabama, and Louisiana,” Kasim said. “A black nation. All black.”
Ben smiled. “My home’s in Louisiana, Kasim, or whatever your goddamned name is. And I’ll give you a bit of advice. I’m going back to my room and go to sleep. I’ll pull out just after dawn tomorrow. There will be no trouble in this motel—that I start, that is. But if I ever see you again… I’ll kill you!”
“Words.” Kasim sneered at him. “Big words. How about trying it now? Just you and me?”
“Drag your ass out of the chair, hotshot.” Ben smiled.
“Cool it, Kasim,” Cecil warned him. “You’re outclassed with Ben. Let it lie.”
Kasim met Ben’s eyes for a long moment, then dropped his gaze. Ben walked away, toward the door. He paused, turned around. “It was a delicious meal, Mrs. Jeffreys. I thank you.”
She smiled and nodded.
Ben’s eyes touched Salina’s. She smiled at him.
He walked out into the rainy night, leaving, he hoped, the hate behind him.
He was loading his gear into the truck at dawn, tying down the tarp when he heard footsteps. He turned, right hand on the butt of the .45 belted at his waist.
Salina.
“We all feel very badly about last night, Mr. Raines. All except Willie Washington, that is.”
“Who?”
She smiled in the misty dawn. A beautiful woman. “Kasim. We grew up together… same block in Chicago.
