Chapter 1: The Horseman is Born

Have you ever heard the term "Seeing Red" and know what it means? I have, and I do. I saw red for the first and only time in my life that night.

I guess I should probably introduce us and give you some idea of what all transpired to lead us, ultimately, to that moment in time when the red haze clouded my vision.

For some background, my name is Steven Harper, and my wife is Latisha Harper, formerly Latisha Martin. We've been together since High School, and in spite of the fact that I'd never dated a black girl before, I found myself drawn to her magnetically. It was like she had a hold on me that I didn't understand. Before I knew it, I had dumped my previous girlfriend, and the next day I was asking Latisha Martin out.

"Sorry, but I don't date white boys," she said with an apologetic smile.

"'Don't', or 'haven't yet?'" I asked with my most charming smile. I have light sandy brown hair, green eyes, and I'm about as white as you can get.

I knew from asking around that she'd dumped her ex-boyfriend several weeks before, and hadn't hooked up with another guy yet.

My question caught her off-guard, and she looked at me thoughtfully for a moment. I could see her sizing me up. I was wearing jeans, a t-shirt, and sneakers. I was a cornerback on the Football team, so I was in shape.

"Ok ... Steve, is it? What did you have in mind for our date?" she asked, the beginnings of a smile starting to play across her lips.

"Well, if that's a 'yes', then how about dinner and a movie? I know it's been done to death as a 'first date', but it's been done to death for a reason."

"Ok, but I pick the movie," she said sternly. Her girlfriend, Lena, stood there and gawked as Latisha just accepted a date with a white boy. As I glanced at her, she smiled knowingly. I would find out later about the conversation they had.

"He's FINE, Tish! I think you should go for it," Lena said to her friend after Latisha confided that she was having second thoughts.

"He is pretty fine for a white boy, but what will my folks say?" she asked. "You know how traditional they are. Just because you and Mitch are tight, doesn't mean the rest of us sistas have the same type of feelings for white guys."

"Mmhmm, and you also know that closed minds are ignorant minds. I'm not saying to marry him, but at least give him a chance," Lena said, her common sense and open-mindedness showing through.

"I don't know, Lena..."

"Look. Why did you dump Terry, and Carl before him?" Lena asked.

"Well, Carl was an asshole, and Terry was a cheatin' asshole."

"Uh huh. Now, there are some good brothas out there, but I've had similar experiences with them. If I wasn't with Ty, I could see myself with Mitch in a heartbeat. I know he wouldn't cheat on me or hurt me." Lena explained her own views to her girlfriend.

"Well, he's your Best Friend, so of course he wouldn't cheat on you!" Latisha laughed.

"I know, it ain't the same situation you're in, but give Steve a chance. Who knows? You might just like it," she said with a wink.

Latisha sighed. "Ok, what could it hurt? But if he turns out to be a serial killer and kills me, I'm gonna come back and haunt you!"

The two of them laughed as they entered their last class for the day.

Latisha told me about that conversation after our third date, and I had just kissed her goodnight. As it turned out, we did hit it off. We had more in common than I thought. While I'm not a huge fan of Hip-Hop, I like R&B and Blues, and I love Jazz. She isn't a fan of Heavy Metal, but that's fine by me.

The movie we went to see on our first date was "Guess Who?" with Ashton Kutcher and Zoe Saldana. It was an educational experience.

She also told me a couple years later, just before our wedding, that she wanted to see my reaction to some of the things said in the movie. I could see how some of the scenes might be uncomfortable for some, but I wasn't Ashton's character, and I had never cared about the color of someone's skin. It doesn't reflect the quality of their character, in my experience.

Granted, the contrast in our skin tones was a huge turn-on for me. Her dark chocolate complexion, contrasting with my tan but still pale-by-comparison skin tone, was extremely erotic.

Six weeks after we started dating, I met her Mom and Dad. Up until then, I had picked her up for, and dropped her off from our dates in front of her house. She'd warned me about their views on white people, but I finally told her that sneaking around behind their backs wasn't the way to go. I wanted her in my life, no matter what others might think. So we discussed it one afternoon while walking through the park hand in hand, and finally agreed that I'd meet her folks first, then she would meet mine afterward.

Her parents were leery and suspicious of me at first, and I had overheard her father saying that her being with me as akin to sleeping with the enemy. Latisha defended me, saying that I wasn't like some white guys, and I had to smile at that. Yes, I had fallen In Love with her, and she had fallen In Love with me.

I won her folks over when I stood up to her father and told him respectfully, but in no uncertain terms, that I love his daughter. I let my irritation at his digs show, and also told him in no uncertain terms that I wasn't going to be pushed out of her life by anyone but her. Latisha was the only one who could end our relationship, and I wasn't going anywhere, otherwise. I would be damned if I let anyone or anything come between us, even her parents.

Her mother surprised me by giving me a hug, and I saw tears in her father's eyes as he accepted my impassioned declaration of love for his daughter. Even her older brother came around eventually. He'd been trying to set his sister up with one of his friends in the Marines, but she wasn't having it.

My folks had a completely different reaction to Latisha, and it didn't take her long to win them over with her sweet personality, intelligence, charm, and steely determination. My sister, on the other hand, was skeptical. She didn't say anything right away, but told me after I'd driven Latisha home that she hated my new girlfriend. Even more than she usually hated my girlfriends.

"Why, Sally?" I asked when she told me that she didn't like Latisha. "You hate every girlfriend I've ever had. So what makes Latisha any worse than them in your view?" I pretty much knew the answer already.

"Do I have to say it, Steve? Do I really have to say it?!" she asked, fed up with my apparent denseness.

"Because she's black." It wasn't a question.

She sighed. "Look, I have nothing against black people, but..."

"But they aren't good enough for me, according to you." Once again, it wasn't a question. I'd heard my sister say the n-word a few times in the last couple of years, but she had never said it in front of our parents. "Look, Sally. Mom and Dad never taught us to be bigoted or racist, so where did you learn it from?"

She was caught off-guard by that question.

"Well, all the crime..." she started.

"Stop right there," I said calmly. "First of all, not all people can be judged by the criminals of the same race. Latisha has never even spent a night in jail, and her older brother only spent a night in jail once for doing something that any guy would have done when he defended himself and his girlfriend. Charges were never filed, and the cops let him go the next morning." I paused to let that sink in.

"Think about it," I said. "Latisha and Lena were having a conversation shortly after I asked her out, and she thought that I might be a serial killer. We had a good laugh about that after our third date, but that's another stereotype for you. Not all, but the majority of the notorious serial killers that have been in the News are white. Is that a fair stereotype for all white guys, Sally?"

My sister hung her head as she carefully considered everything I'd just said. She finally looked up at me with tears in her eyes. "You're right, Steve. I'm sorry."

I had to blink a few times at that. My little sister, barely a year younger than me, but ALWAYS right, had just admitted for the first, and probably only time that I was right about something, and that she was wrong! But what was even more amazing; she apologized to me!

Instead of rubbing her nose in it, I decided to be a gentleman. "Thanks, Sally. Now, please get rid of all those racist and bigoted stereotypes in your head, because there's a good chance that you might have her as your sister-in-law someday."

Her eyes went wide at that statement. "You're thinking of marrying her?" There was more surprise than anger or resentment in her voice and expression.

"If things keep going as they've been going, yes," I said with a smile. "I love her, Sis."

In response, she threw her arms around my neck and hugged me tight. "I just want to see you happy, Bro. Don't screw this up!"

I didn't screw it up. We'd been dating for three months when she finally decided that we'd had enough of foreplay. So far, I hadn't gone past third base with her, fingering and licking her pussy. She had sucked me off a few times, but we hadn't gone all the way ... yet.

But that night after watching the Baseball game, we decided to drive up to the Bluffs. My shiny pale gray 1968 Mustang Fastback 390 GT has a decent sized backseat, so when we got there, we climbed into the back and were all over each other.