The Black and White Street

just parts of my story selected & put in logical order, let me know if its interesting???

 

 

This is set in the 1950's, when there was a black and white world.   A black girl and white boy secretly fall in love.

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December 1, 1955

I had just finished food shopping for my mother and I could see the bus on its way to my stop, its front reading “Cleveland Ave”, then under it, “2857”. The yellow, green, and white colored bus came rolling along and stopped right in front of me and several other passengers. Its doors swung open and I took the steps up to meet the bus driver. The bus driver, whose name tag read “James Blake”, was an average-looking white man who seemed to have little tolerance for tardiness (I speak from experience). He told me to pay my fare. I deposited the money and walked towards the back and sat in an empty seat. We stopped several times, the bus getting more crowded as more people boarded it, and that’s when the incident took place. Some white man got on and started searching for an empty seat, but there were none. He nodded at the black woman sitting in front of me and asked her to move. It seemed to take a long time for her to answer and when she did, she said, “No.” The man walked back to the front of the bus and complained to the bus driver. James turned around and asked for her, two black males, and I to move and make room for the white passengers, because we were sitting in that row. See if a bus gets crowded and there happens to be a lot more white passengers than black ones, then the first black row would have to stand to make room for a new white row.  The one black man and I got up quickly, but the other man hesitated, who, I guess, was wondering why the black lady would not budge. But he did move, eventually, which left that lady alone, still unflinching. The bus driver, looking at her, said, “Y'all better make it light on yourselves and let me have those seats.” The lady did not move. 

 

        Everybody was baffled, including me. I mean, I heard that something like this happened a while ago with some girl named Claudette, but seeing this happen in person just seemed a whole lot different. Some people were a bit angry and ready to give up their seats just to get a move on. It was that or the fact that a black woman had talked back to a white man. I had never seen such a thing and never really thought about it before, but now that I was seeing it happening, I was confused and everything seemed to change all of a sudden. I shivered and clutched my winter coat around me tighter; I couldn’t imagine walking around in the bitter cold all the way home. And, minutes later, I would no longer have to imagine it at all. I was forced off as police dragged the Parks lady to the station. I could hear the white bus driver, James, talking to the police. His angry hands were making gestures and he was yelling out, “I wasn't trying to do anything to that Parks woman except do my job. She was in violation of the city codes, so what was I supposed to do? That damn bus was full and she wouldn't move back. I had my orders.” Although it was only a few minutes of my fifteen year old life, I was certain that it would change all that I had ever known.                          

 

 

December 14, 1955

          The next day, after the bus incident, I learned that a crowd of Negroes started a bus boycott when they heard that the Parks lady got arrested.

“Our pastor, Martin, started a campaign yesterday.” my mother said to me, days ago.

“What’s it about?” I asked, setting spoons down on the table.

“You remember that Colvin girl? Her and a couple of black girls who got arrested for not moving up off the bus seat when they were ordered to. I guess it sparked Martin’s imagination and he and some friends is trying to ask everybody who’s black to stop using buses to get around.” (selection)

December 19,1955 

“No daughter of mine’ll date a white boy.” Dad argued, which was more of an order.

“I just wanted to ask you—“

“There’s nothing to ask. Don’t talk to him. White people only give you trouble." (selection)

December 21, 1955

“Okay, okay.  For a whole week, I promise I won’t bother you.”

I nodded.  “Okay, deal.”

He stuck his hand out and waited.  I shook his hand quickly and pulled away.

“My name is Margaret.  Happy?  Now leave me alone.”

“Margaret, Mar—“

“You said you’d leave me alone.” I yelled, angrily.

“I’m talking to myself.  You never said I couldn’t talk to myself.” Aaron said with a wicked smile on his face.  Oh, how I wanted to slap it off! 

“Wise guy…” I muttered and we parted, for the reason that I lived on a black street and he lived on a white one.

 

 

December 17, 1955

          I walk home alone every day after school. It’s a really long walk and seems to take even longer during the winter. Of course, although I never took much notice of it before, it’s much easier for a white kid—they live right next to their school. Either that or they take the bus, to and from school. The more I realized there was a white and black world, the more irritated I became. 

“It’s got to be at least negative five hundred degrees out here…” I hissed under my breath.

“That’s a bit of an understatement.” I heard someone say.

I turned my head to see a white kid walking on the other side of the street. He had curly, light brown hair, almost blonde, and a goofy smile on his face. His shirt was out of his pants, which I would expect to be inappropriate for whatever school he attended. His shoes appeared to be filling up with snow, but he didn’t seem to notice. He just looked ridiculous.  

“What?” I asked.

“I said, I agree.” he answered.

“Of what?” I blurted.

“That it’s cold. You just said it was—“

“Oh.” I muttered, my teeth chattering. I was anxious to get home and he was wasting my time with his stupid comments. (selection)