think of from his old schools to his old hang-out spots. That evening, we had dinner with his parents, and I was thoroughly entertained by their stories of Chris as a smart, talented, but somewhat mischievous child.
Tuesday, bright and early, Chris picked me up and took me to the Gateway Arch Riverfront, where we explored the museum and took a riverboat ride. By that evening, I was exhausted but had thoroughly enjoyed my day with Chris.
“Okay, time for dinner,” he said as I collapsed into his car.
“Oh, where’s dinner tonight?” I asked.
He gave me a wide grin. “It’s a surprise.”
“You’re just always full of surprises aren’t you, Mr. King?”
“Gotta be if I’ma keep up with you, Mean Marli.”
I grinned and shook my head.
A few minutes later, we pulled into a gas station. “Gotta gas up. Sit tight,” Chris said and then leaned over and kissed me softly. I smiled and watched as he walked into the gas station.
I’d pulled out my cell phone and was checking for missed calls when I heard a tap on my window. There was a young, black guy whom I didn’t recognize standing next to the car, peering inside at me. Maybe he’s a friend of Chris’s. I turned the key in the ignition, rolled the window down, and said, “Yes?”
The guy shook his head. “Really, sister?”
I frowned. “Do I know you?”
“Naw, but I know you . You one of them sisters who thinks rolling around with some white dude is the thing to do. Brothers ain’t good enough for you, huh? But if I had a white girl on my arm, you’d have a fit, wouldn’t you?”
“What? Who the hell are you?”
He nodded slowly. “Yeah, I know your type. He riding you around in a Benz, prolly paying your bills. I bet it’s all about the money, ain’t it? That’s all y’all want—somebody to foot the bills for you.”
I shook my head and rolled the window back up. I didn’t have time for that mess, and who I was with was none of this stranger’s business.
He threw his hands up and I could hear him through the window as he continued, “Dang, it’s like that? I hope you come to your senses and come back to the black side, my sister.”
I glared at him and mouthed, “ Go away .”
The guy shook his head and then pounded his fist on the roof of the car before walking away. I jumped and checked to be sure my door was locked. I was still a little shaken up when Chris made it back to the car.
He opened the door, threw his wallet on the seat, and said, “Who was that dude you were talking to?”
I shrugged. “I… I don’t know. Just some guy.”
Chris looked at me for a moment. “What’d he say?”
I shifted my eyes from Chris’s face. “Nothing.”
“He must’ve said something. He was standing here for a good minute.”
“It… it was nothing. Just pump the gas so we can go.”
Chris stood there and eyed me for a moment and then he turned and looked at the guy, who was busy pumping gas—his back to us as he leaned against his car.
“Son of a—oh, hell naw!” Chris fumed. He slammed his door shut and began walking toward the guy’s car. “Ay!”
I fumbled with the door handle. Oh, Lord.
I finally got my door open, scrambled to my feet outside the car, and yelled, “Chris!”
Chris, who’d already reached the guy’s car, said, “I’ll be right back, Marli.”
He didn’t turn around, but walked around the vehicle until he stood face-to-face with the guy. Chris was taller than him and bigger than him, and at that point I had no doubt that he could’ve whooped the guy’s butt, but I knew I’d have a hard time explaining to Chris’s parents why he was in jail for assault.
“Ay, man! The hell you say to my woman?” Chris asked.
The guy looked over at me and then at Chris. The look in his eye told me that he, too, figured that Chris could whoop his butt. “Man, go on with
C. J. Cherryh
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