Chapter 1

There was another bunch. I was getting so tired of seeing this, all of these cute white girls with black men. I don't understand it and it is infuriating. The only thing I can see that they have going for them is big dicks. In this day and age, I guess that is all they have to have. I see it all the time, and I'm sure that there is a lot of jealousy there. I realize that I'd never have a chance at any of those girls. I just didn't understand the attraction is all. I had spent four years in the Air Force and had gotten acquainted with a number of blacks. With a few exceptions, I found them on the whole to be rude and obnoxious. Their attitudes toward women were primitive and most of them were out for a shot of leg, and nothing more. If I tried to treat women like that I would probably be stun gunned. Of course there is little or no reciprocal action for white guys dating black girls. The black girls wanted the big dicks too, so the average white guy loses out again. Of course, as big as most of the black girls in this area are, it is not much of a loss.

There were a couple of examples over by the jewelry counter. One was a good reason to outlaw ski pants. Her ass looked like sacks full of doorknobs. (I read that somewhere, but the mind picture is timeless.) Her legs funneled down to running shoes I just knew never got used for that purpose. Her waist lapped over the top of the ski pants and the back view displayed rolls of fat under her arms, shown off by the straps of the black tank top and the white straps of her super heavy duty brassiere. The other girl wasn't quite as bad, but still no prize. Her butt was wide enough to tighten the seat of the calf-length cargo pants she was wearing. From the side her breasts pushed far out at an incredible angle, and her abdomen was only slightly bulging. Facially, they looked like sisters, very afro with the wide nose, thick lips, and shelf over the eyes. The bigger girl had a little lighter skin and more acne scars. Neither one had the cornrows I find so ugly, but they did have neon colored streaks in their short bobbed hair. I have come up with the theory that black men evolved such long dicks so they could get past the bubble butts on the black girls.

I usually came to this WalMart because it was out of town and not nearly as crowded as the other two stores back in town. For me the distance was not much more than the closest one, and it had a gas station so I could fill up when I shopped. The clientele was better here as well. You don't expect high society at WalMart, but some areas were better than others.

I was in the checkout lane when trouble erupted. One of the black girls saw that her boyfriend was one of the guys with the white girls. She got very loud and abusive and shortly the security guards were escorting her out of the store.

This reinforced my opinions of the both the slutty white girls and the black males. More than likely all of the girls would stay with the black guy even after he cheated on them and treated them like shit. Nice guys only finish last if they are allowed into the competition.

I put it all from my mind as just another annoyance in my life and finished checking out. I put thirty bucks into a gift card to use at the gas pumps and headed out.

My car was down about half way on aisle B. I popped the hatch on my dark grey Toyota Celica and proceeded to put the bags into it. I had gotten lucky a couple of months ago when my truck died to get this sporty little car. I found it on Craig's List for just five hundred dollars.

I had just finished putting the groceries in and was about to close the hatch when I heard the unmistakable sound of a fist hitting flesh and something slammed into the side of my car. I had been hearing voices for a bit without letting them spill over into my consciousness. I looked up and saw that the altercation in the store had followed me out. The darker skinned black girl in the cargo pants that I had seen at the jewelry counter was leaning against the side of my car sobbing. She had her hand to the side of her face and there appeared to be blood dripping down onto the passenger side window. In the empty parking space next to me was one of the black guys that I had seen with the white sluts.

"You ain't got no say in what I do bitch. I fuck what I want when I want and if you don't like it you can fuckin' leave. You say another goddamn word and I'll hit your fat ass again." He saw me looking over the back of the car then. "What the fuck you want whitey? This ain't none o' your damn bid'ness."

I slowly reached down and got the pepper spray from where I had put it before entering the store. I usually kept it clipped on my belt, but had found that the store security took it wrong if they found it on you. "I would have to agree with you, as long as you don't try to hit a woman around me. Talk all you want, but I'm going to have to stop you from hitting her again."

"Fuck you Honkey! She my goddamn bitch and I'll hit her if I damn well want to. You try to stop me and I'll cut your cracker ass."

He stepped toward the girl and raised his hand as if to strike her again. She cowered against the car as I moved around to block him. He was slightly hampered by the silly pants he had on. The crotch was down between his knees and the waist was so loose that he had to hold onto it with one hand. I hoped he tried to fight me with his pants around his ankles.

"Just can't leave well enough alone, huh asshole?" The kid stepped back and reached into his pocket. "Well, I'm gonna cut your white ass and then fuck the bitch up too." He proceeded to flip his hand around a bit ending up with a long thin blade sticking out of his hand. He had one of those butterfly blades that were so popular a while back. As he made to stab toward me I brought up my hand with the pepper spray in it and got him right in the eyes before he got close enough to cut me.

He screamed like a little girl while backing up and bringing his hands to his face. He forgot about the knife and managed to cut himself on the forehead before dropping it.

I heard applause and turned around to see the security guards coming up behind me and clapping.

"Good show Buddy. Now you had better take the young lady and get out of here before the police show up. You were justified, but it'll be easier to explain if you aren't here. We'll get an ambulance for this guy, now get going."

"Thanks, I will." I closed the hatch and opened my door. The girl was still standing by the passenger door, so I leaned over and opened it for her.

"Come on, get in, I'll take you home."

The girl looked over at the crowd building up and suddenly slid into the seat. "Okay, let's go. I'll call mama and let her know what happened." She reached into the bag she had dropped onto the floor and pulled out a cell phone. She opened the phone and started typing on it. "I'll just text Sabura instead. She can tell mama enough for now. I guess I'll have to go to her house for now, I got to get my stuff out of Dewayne's place. I told him that if he ever hit me I was gonna be gone."

I was already moving out of the parking lot. Looking at the gage I decided that gas could wait for another day or so. I got to the light and turned right, heading further out of town to avoid any possible police coming in.

"Where are we going Miss?"

"To my mom's place I guess, I don't know what else to do. Thank you for helping me. I hope you won't get into any trouble."

"You're welcome, I don't think anyone there knows me enough to identify me. I'll just have to shop elsewhere for a while."

"Turn right at the light up, here. Would you mind if I stop and get some of my stuff from Dewayne's trailer?"

"As long as it isn't too far away. He should be a little while getting home, that spray takes about half an hour to go away. Do you have a key?"

"Yeah I do, but I'm going to leave it behind when I'm done. I'm Bashira, by the way, Bashira Jones. Mom says the name means good news or something like that, folks just call me Shira. If you turn left up here at the light the trailer park is just a little ways down toward Honda."

"Okay, Bashira. I'm Donald Bergstrom. I know which park you are talking about I think."

I made the turn, and when I slowed at the entrance to the trailer park, Bashira nodded her head. "This is it, third trailer on the left. Wait here, I only have a couple of bags to get, I never really unpacked."

True to her word, Shira was back within ten minutes carrying a suitcase and a gym bag and talking on her phone. I heard snatches of her conversation, enough to know that she was arguing with her mother. "But Mama, if I don't stay with you, where can I go?"

There was a pause while she listened as I put her bags into the back seat. "Hokay Mama, I try dat"

I backed out and turned around. "So, where to?"

"I don't know. Is there a battered women's shelter in town? Mama is afraid for me to stay with her, 'cause Dewayne and his friends will probably be lookin' for me to cause trouble."

I turned back to the left on 119. "I don't know of one in town here, maybe in Greensboro or Durham, but I haven't got a lot of time Bashira. I need to get ready for work. Why don't you stay at my place and check the internet to find out what is available? When I get off work I can take you wherever you decide."

Shira looked at me with a shocked expression, "You don't know me at all. Aren't you afraid I'd steal you blind while you're working?"

I glanced over at her, "I'm a student working a shit job as evening manager at Dollar General. I haven't got much of anything for you to steal except my drum set and computer. I know your name, and if you take them I'll file a police report and have them back within a week. I'm not really that worried."

I turned left at the light and headed out to the freeway toward home. I had an apartment in a building that was directly behind the strip mall the store I worked at was in. Fifteen minutes later I was pulling into my parking place and opened my door to get out.

"Here we are. It's not much, but it works for me." The apartment building only had three apartments and mine was the smallest one and in the rear. The building was on a busy street just a couple blocks off the interstate and was sandwiched between a strip mall and a self-storage place. The landlord was a prick, but as long as I kept the rent paid up and mowed my part of the lawn he didn't bother me. My neighbors might say something if they saw Bashira, but I didn't expect her to be here long enough to matter. I opened the kitchen door and led Bashira into the apartment.

"The bathroom is over here on the left, there should be some antiseptic cream in the cabinet you can use on your lip. I'm going to bring in my groceries, make yourself at home." I went back out and started bringing bags into the kitchen. When there were all in I went back out and got her two bags and put them in the living room. My place was furnished by Goodwill and the local yard sales. I had a futon in the living room substituting for a couch, one old recliner, and a TV cabinet with a 21" set and a DVD player. I didn't have cable and since the airwaves went digital all I had to watch were DVD's. I got rejects from my store real cheap and rented good movies once in a while. I didn't spend much time in there.

I found Bashira in the second bedroom that I had turned into my music and media room. All my wealth was in here. Besides the older model Dell desktop computer there was my Alesis DM6 electric drum set. It looked a little strange, but there was no way I could have a regular drum set in an apartment, so I had gotten these as an alternative. I could play these using headsets and an MP3 player. I also had a small amplifier to use to play them in public if I ever needed to.

I went over and turned on the computer. I started Firefox once it was loaded and when Google appeared I looked at Bashira. "Go ahead and see what you can find out. You are welcome to look at anything else you want, just don't be mad at what you may find. I'm not really set up for company and I don't have any kind of screening or filter on my computer. Right now I need to get ready for work."

I left her there and went to get a shower and change into work clothes. When I was ready I went back to her.

"Have you had any luck?"

"Yeah, I've got a few numbers to call."

"Okay, well I'll be back at about ten. There is food in the kitchen, help yourself. If you get tired you can lay down on the futon in the living room. There are DVD's in the cabinet under the TV, and just like the computer, don't be offended by anything you see. I'm a lonely guy living by myself. Is there anything you need that I can get while I'm out?"

"Not that I can think of. Can I get your phone number in case I think of something?"

"Sure." I wrote my number on a pad by the computer and circled it. "See you later."

It felt strange to leave her in my place, but what the hell.

I wasn't quite as trusting as it might seem. I had the 1911 Colt .45 ACP from my bedside drawer in my pocket. I had foiled a thief with my pepper spray a few months ago and he threw his gun into the trashcan outside the store as he left. I saw him throw something in it but had said nothing to the police. When I changed liners that night I found the gun. This thing was old and filthy, but it worked. I guess he had been afraid of getting caught with the gun on him. Store policy was to let the thief have the money, and when customers were close by I did. This time I was by myself and when he brought out the gun I hit him in the eyes with my pepper spray. The gun was empty when I found it, but it wasn't now.

The night was pretty normal and Shira didn't call. I had to use my key to get in when I got home. The apartment was dark and I could see Shira laying on the futon by the flickering light of the TV. I saw that she had been watching some soft porn before falling asleep.

I touched her shoulder, "Hey, I'm back. Did you have any luck?"

"What? Oh, hi Donald. No, I didn't. I wasn't married to the asshole and I don't have any kids so most of the places won't take me. The ones that would are full. They all said to go to my mom's and let the police protect me. Fat lot of good they are going to do."

"Well, don't worry about it. You can stay here tonight and we'll talk about it tomorrow. Did you have anything to eat?"

"Yeah, I made a couple of sandwiches. I hope you don't mind, but I got a bath too. Are you sure it's okay for me to stay? It felt kind of weird being here with you gone."

"You are fine. It feels a bit strange to me as well. I'm not used to anyone being here. Do you have a job or school or anything you need to do?"