The Resistance

CHAPTER TWO | “Dilly Little White Girl…”

-PLANET FOOR- | Saigon

We slept in the trees now. Hammocks of woven vines and weeds tightly strung up the highest of trees, with hand carved wooden clasp that released to let us down in the mornings. Emory had become dangerously more creative in his experiments and sent new beastly creations beyond the valley wall nearly every night to attack. It was quite senseless and redundant. But I admired his aggressive thought.

I shifted uncomfortably in my hammock that swung constantly back and forth, causing endless rustling of the leaves. It was fairly crisp this morning and I tried halfheartedly to ignore the hunger pains I felt and the tiny goose bumps forming on my skin. I had spoken with the clans the night before and had come to terms with the sure coming events.

The rebellion.

The truth.

The death.

The choice.

It was almost time. Sooner than later Emory had to let her make a choice. She belonged with her own kind. We could not fight against the 12 year old treaty made between Moura and Emory. And we would not fight against love. So we retreated. Into the furthest back parts of the land in silence. For now 13 years.

In honor of dear Amoura.

But today…

 I slipped my hand down into my tattered pants pocket and retrieved the tiny little hand carved clock I had finally finished two nights before. It was 9:21am. Soon, very soon, I silently thanked God in heaven, it would be Oris’ 17th birthday.

And she will be given a choice.

-PLANET FYVE- | Dr Moira Levy

On the inside, I’ll admit, I laughed hysterically. I felt it was justified.

On the outside, I’m sure I looked intensely concerned. I plucked my pencil from my lips and studied Ashley, or rather, Mrs Hanold, before slowly pulling my glasses from my face as well. Per our usual sessions, we were getting absolutely no where. Looking her over as she spoke I brimmed a frown inwardly.

Her face, which I knew personally, use to be beautiful. Absolutely beautiful. All American is what my dad use to say. Me and Ashley had been close friends since our junior year in high school. Then we went on to the same college. She was the popular sorority girl everyone wanted to either be friends with or in a relationship with. Came from a moderate wealthy family. Had enough money but not enough to be considered over the top rich, like myself. If you’d met her two years ago you wouldn’t know she was the same woman. Her once slim figure was now ballooned out of natural proportion at the hips and butt. Her thighs still their normal slender. Her waist sucked in and barely there, which, that had always been the same. Her breast, which I knew personally use to be a nice average 32B, were now an overwhelming 44DDD. Courtesy of the plastic surgeon just 7 floors above my office.

Her flushed pale skin a now mild orange, tanned I guess, depending on who you asked. Her hair, which we fawned over as girls, seeing as she had the thick Farrah Fawcett look, was now a dull platinum. Stringy at the tips, thick at the roots. Extensions noticeably starting where her split ends ended. And her lips. Well, her lips had always been on the fuller side. Now, they sat on her face like sausages. Big and juicy. Stiff. It looked painful watching her speak and they stretched across her face as if they would burst open at the wrong syllable. Ashley USE to be beautiful. Now....

“So you’re saying...you only got the implants to appease your husband? What about everything else?” My eyebrow hiked in curiosity.

“All of it. I did all of it for James. Like I’m some fucking build a woman, you know? He says “Honey, you ever thought about getting a lift?” You know it hasn’t been the same since Brandon.” She paused to sigh sadly at mentioning the name of her son. Brandon. Sweetest most adorable little boy I had EVER seen in my entire life. He’d passed away last year after succumbing to pneumonia. Terrible time for Ashley. Which is why we sat here now. In my office. In the midst of a weekly off the record therapy session.

“I thought it would turn him on, you know? All he ever does now is scroll Instagram and show me all these big black bitches with their enormous lips. And breast. And their butts! There aren’t enough squats in the world. Trust me, I’ve TRIED!” She shrieked loudly before collapsing her face into a handful of tissues. Weeping loud and dramatically.

Staring at Ashley I couldn’t imagine going through various plastic surgery operations just to appease my husband. Just to drastically attempt to look like something I’m simply not. I wanted to tell Ashley to grow up and tell her husband if he wanted to be with a black woman then he should just go do that. It was 2018, not the 1950s. And this was California. You could date a squirrel at this point and no one would bat an eye. And after losing Brandon, this wasn’t conducive to Ashley’s mental health.

Instead, off the record, I consoled her. And each session she came in I tried to find the root of her compliance. I understood she wanted to satisfy her husband. Especially in a time of prolonged mourning. She couldn’t control her or her husbands emotions during the time of Brandon being sick, or even after he passed. But maybe she felt she could control how her husband saw her NOW. Maybe she thought this was a way to make him feel better. Happier. There had to be something deeper to explain why she willingly went under the knife for SO many procedures. I don’t to much care what anyone says, no one likes to be cut and hacked on for no real reason but to keep a generally happy marriage.

After a while I snapped my notebook shut before standing. After talking with Ashley a little more I handed her a schedule card for the following week and walked with her hand in hand to the door.

Standing there as she slinked out I found myself glancing in my office mirror that hung to the left of the entrance. My golden blonde shoulder length hair sat freshly curled and tucked behind my ear. My skin was a little on the pale side and there wasn’t much I could do about it. I didn’t tan properly, I burned. I’d long ago stopped trying since the salons only made me a more peach version of myself. My eyes were a startling shade of ocean blue, and my lips, though bubble gum pink, were thin. Really thin if you asked me. But my husband didn’t complain so neither did I.

“Well hello there beautiful.” A deep familiar voice tumbled into my office just as I attempted to shut the door. I smiled wide and yanked the door back open before jumping into my husbands arms.

“Hey! What are you doing here?? I didn’t see your cruiser pulling up outside.” I whispered, though excited to see him.

“We got a disturbance call right around the corner from here near the girls prep school, so I thought I’d come by and take you to grab some lunch.” He shrugged with a smile.

I quickly snatched up my sweater and told my secretary I’d be back in an hour before dashing out the door and pulling him laughing behind me.

I loved my husband immensely. We’d been together since our freshman year in college (Ashley introduced us) and it seemed like we were still in the freshest parts. We had great careers, great parents, no kids, and lived in a BEAUTIFUL mini Spanish villa in such a sunny, free state that I truly don’t think I thanked god enough for the blessing.

Sliding into the patrol car I buckled up and grinned like a school girl before throwing my purse on the floor besides me.

“What happened at the prep school? Is everyone okay?” I asked genuinely concerned as we pulled off.

He grabbed my hand up and kissed it long and hard before nodding with a grin.

“Where to darlin? What you wanna eat today?” He drawled making me laugh loudly at his cheesy southern accent.

“Mmm, how about sushi? There’s a new spot not to far from here I’ve been dying to try. Julie says it’s absolutely fantastic.” I gushed as he maneuvered swiftly through the LA traffic.

“That sounds like a good one for date night, but I was thinking we go to that old soul food place over off Crenshaw. You know the one over by Griselda’s moms house.” He looked over at me smiling waiting for my reply. Which. I didn’t exactly have one.

Griselda was my husbands late partner. She died during a traffic stop gone wrong, and I DID actually remember the place he was referring to because we’d spent a lot of time with Zelda’s mom after her death. We still do from time to time. But that was when her death was still very fresh. I didn’t exactly see the need to go over in that area at this point, during the day. During MY lunch.

Crenshaw wasn’t the best place to loiter around as a white woman. Or as a cop even. They hated the police in that area and I was unnervingly aware.

Seeing the uneasiness on my face I’m assuming, he reached over and lifted my chin.

“It’s okay. We don’t have to baby I was just...” I grabbed his hand trying to lighten the mood and nodded vigorously. Finding myself doing exactly what Ashley had just gotten done crying over. Trying to make my husband happy.

“No, lets go. Do you think we could grab some food for Nana Zelda and drop it off on our way back. I DO miss her something terrible. It’s been a while.” I conceded quietly.

Happy with my answer he beamed. Showing almost all his teeth. Which in return made me happy. He was so beautiful when he smiled like that and I was satisfied to be the reason.

~~~~

Sitting across from my husband I shifted non stop as we waited for our food. I never knew what to order when we came so I always stuck with the same thing. Fried chicken breast. Boneless, white meat. Macaroni and cheese, and candied yams. With a glass of water to wash the richness down. It was the only meal I KNEW tasted good from here and I didn’t want to chance it with something else.

“So, hows work been so far today? Tell me all about it” my husband reach across the table of our booth and held my hand. Immediately I felt better. Staring into his eyes I blushed as he winked and lifted my hand to kiss it.

“Well, Ashley came in today for her session. She got her lips did this time and was distraught over it.” I sighed.

My husband frowned quickly before sitting back.

“She had ANOTHER damn thing did to that face. Well shit. She’s 90% plastic now. She’s damn near flammable at this point Moira!” He grumbled and I laughed loudly before covering my mouth.

“Baby! Don’t say that! James likes it.” I reasoned even though my sentiments were the EXACT same.

“Honey you’ve met the man. He seems like he likes a lot of weird shit now doesn’t he?” My husband laughed while pointing his finger at me knowingly.

“You say that, but he’s YOUR friend.” I mocked.

“...what do you think about me getting MY lips done?” I threw out casually, quickly looking down at my phone.

“Your WHAT?! You’d do that Moira?” Looking up I noticed he was smiling, with wide anxious eyes. Leaning in with both hands gripping the table so hard his knuckles were turning white. Like a kid in a candy store. Which alarmed me for some reason. It wasn’t the reaction I was expecting

Glancing behind him I noticed a young black waitress walking over with what surely had to be our food, and two large glasses of a red beverage. Placing it all on the table before attempting to walk away without a word, I quickly frowned looking at the cup.

“Um excuse me. What is this? I didn’t order this. I asked for water with two slices of lemon.” I spoke tartly with a slightly annoyed tone.

The young waitress stared at me before rolling her eyes and glancing at my husband menacingly.

“It’s cherry koolaid. And Randy ordered it when you went to talk on the phone.” She smacked before walking away.

“White bitch.” I heard her mumble loudly before making her way to the other side of the diner.

“Yeah I wanted you to try it” he smirked at me, glancing over his cup after taking two large gulps. I sat, fuming. I knew he had to have heard her yet he said nothing. I also noticed how she called him by first name, which I forced to the back of my mind trying to reason that maybe she’d known it from our frequent visits with Griselda and her mom. Or maybe he’d been here before on police business. Maybe in his leisure on break. The food was good enough, I thought. But the bitch remark. I KNOW he’d heard her....

“Well I don’t want to try it. I want water.” I mumbled embarrassed by the waitress behavior and how even though she’d simply responded with a little attitude in response to MY obvious bit of attitude, HERS had me a little...scared and uncomfortable.

I looked around nervously before stuffing my food in my mouth, trying to hurry so we could leave, only to glance at my husband and see him taking his sweet time. Unfolding his napkin across his lap. Picking up his knife and fork with a look of sheer delight on his face.

I noticed he’d look at the waitress from time to time during our meal across the room and every time she caught him she huffed and roll her eyes. Occasionally smacking her lips. Which caused me to stare as well. Taking a sip of the red beverage while glancing her way I instead found myself looking down at the cup in shock. The drink was absolutely delicious. After a few more sips I took the time to look the young girl over as she took another order.

Her skin was dark. And though I attributed the sweat to her working, it made her complexion seem slightly oily...and dirty. She was tall. Taller than me from what I could tell and built kind of bulky. I mean...I couldn’t say she was fat. But saying she was skinny just didn’t seem accurate either. Her hips were round and her butt poked out so far I almost gagged as I stared at it. Her stomach however was relatively flat and sculpted. Every movement she made cause her whole lower body to jiggle slightly. She had nicely arched eyebrows surprisingly, a medium pug nose, and full robust lips that shined against the mid day sunlight. Her hair hung down her back in a long loose ponytail and I immediately determined that it was fake hair. Her hair COULDN’T be that long naturally. No way. Watching her ring in the orders I glanced at her nails and found my self admiring the length and the shape. The animate purple and orange design with the metallic shimmer. I’d never seen nails like that and I looked mine over briefly thinking about if they would look good on my fingernails.

“I’m going to the bathroom before we finish.” I said to my husband, though he only nodded dismissively still staring at the young girl across the restaurant.

Shuffling into the rest room I frowned to myself trying to figure out what was even going on and why I didn’t just push for sushi.

“That husband of yours honey. That man is cheatin on you somethin vicious.” I heard lowly as an older woman walked out of one of the stalls. Looking her over she looked just like the young girl at the counter. She casually walked up to the sink washing her hands. As if she hadn’t said what she’d just said.

“Ex...excuse me?.” I guffawed.

“Randy. Comes in here every other day harassin my Keisha. Told him next time he came in here I would make it my business to tell you. Somehow someway. And lo and behold here you are in my diner. I’m not afraid of that man, and I’m not stupid. I know he don’ took Keisha down to that clinic last week...”

“Clinic?! Now you wait just one minute!-“

“Naw!” She yelled slapping her hands against the counter, water splashing against the mirror.

“YOU wait a minute. What you think my girl is some charity case? What you can’t have kids of your own? You thinking of makin my Keisha some fuckin surrogate?! You ain’t no damn Angelina Jolie!” She fumed.

Sighing in obvious frustration she looked at me with a softened face. Sympathy etched behind her eyes.

“Listen. I’m tellin you woman to woman. That man of yours ain’t no good. Come over in the hood abusing his power. You ever want to discuss it with me. You ever wanna discuss what he’s REALLY doin while you’re at home probably cooking his dinner, washin his nasty ass drawls... you come on back down here. I’ll tell yo’ simple white ass everything you need to know. You understand me?” She finished, slowly backing away. I stood silent, hand clutching the marble sink. So hard, my finger tips squeaked as the pinched across the surface.

Do you HEAR me, girl?” She pointed her finger in my face, raising her eyebrows knowingly before walking briskly out the door.

~~~

Making it back to my seat with a hard slump I sat there. Dazed and confused at the sudden turn of events. Numb. Yet anxious to know what she was implying. I wanted to push this whole day out of my memory and get the hell out of here immediately. Crazy people. All of them.

Once we were finished the same waitress stomped back over to the table with two full to go bags and a Togo cup and straw. Slamming it on the table she looked directly at me, but spoke to both of us.

“Here. Dis’ yo’ Togo orders Randy. My momma said we ain’t got no more pork chops but she know Miss Zelly like her smothered chicken so she put that in the box instead.”

Leaning in closer to me, me leaning back in shock and worry, seeing as she never took her eyes off of me.

“...and here go yo’ stank ass lemon water...dilly lil white girl.” She smirked before mugging my husband and stomping off.

I looked at my husband expecting him to raise ALL kinds of hell at this point...

But instead he chuckled lowly before stroking his short goatee while watching her walk away.

“Randy?!...” I hissed after clearing my throat COMPLETELY shocked, embarrassed, angry, and confused.

His head snapped back in my direction and I noticed the sheer annoyance suddenly appear on his face.

Grabbing the bags and standing briskly he took another long sip of the red beverage before walking off without a response. I sat there, again, stuck. Literally and completely stuck. Until I heard...

“Well come on dilly little white girl! Let me get you back to work.” His laughter carrying him smoothly out the door...

 T.B.C