Thunder and Lightening: Chapter 9Home « Thunder and Lightening Index « Previous

- Chapter 9

Posted: November 22, 2004 - 12:11:47 am

Abe and Bill wanted to ride back to the house in the back of the truck with the

scooters, but Jerry wouldn't let them. For Abe, the bike meant a seventy-five

dollar a month payment for the next year and a reason to keep working. For his

son, it was a sign that his father did care about him. Jerry smiled as he

thought about the happiness that the bikes would bring.

Pulling up in front of the house, he parked the car and helped Abe get his bike

off the back of the truck. The poor kid was so excited that he could hardly

stand still and was ready to ride off in it. Jerry said, "Whoa, there! You've

got to get a permit first and for that you need to study the booklet they gave

you at the motorcycle shop."

"Damn!"

Laughing at the exuberance of the young man, Jerry said, "Why don't you two

study the book together? When you are convinced that you can pass the test, I'll

give you a short test and when you pass that we'll go get your permit."

The two young kids sat down on the futon and studied the driver's manual with

their heads bent over as they read each paragraph aloud. While they were doing

that, Jerry brought the scooter that he had bought for Bill and put it in the

bedroom with his tools. While there, he noticed the stack of Polaroids and

picked them up. He shuffled through the pictures appreciating the body of the

woman that had posed for them. Only a few showed her face. Deciding it would be

best if neither of the kids found the pictures, he put them on the shelf in the

closet.

Returning to the living room, he watched for a moment as the boys studied the

motorcycle driver's manual. Clearing his throat, he said, "You'll have to get

your mother to come with us, Abe."

"I know. We just covered that part of the manual. She has to sign some papers."

"When will she get off work?" asked Jerry.

"She'll get home about three," answered the young man.

Bill looked up from the manual and said, "I have to be home about six or mom

will kill me."

"No problem," replied Jerry thinking that he would try like hell to get the kid

home before five. That would leave an hour for unforeseen events. The more he

thought about it, he decided that he would get his son home early in the

afternoon. Working out the logistics, he said, "After you guys have finished

studying that, I'd like to take my son out to lunch. When your mother gets home,

you bring her over and we'll go get you a license."

Both boys agreed with the plan and went back to reading the manual. Jerry

wandered into the kitchen and brewed a pot of coffee. The kitchen was barren

compared to the majority of kitchens. He had bought a set of dinnerware that

provided a basic setting for four, silverware for six, and glasses for eight.

There was the coffee maker, microwave, hot plate, and mini-refrigerator that

completed his kitchen. There weren't any pots, pans, or mixing bowls. Without a

kitchen table, there was nowhere to eat.

When the coffee finished brewing, he poured three cups and carried them out into

the living room. After handing each of the boys a cup, he sat down on the floor

enjoying the cool of the air conditioner and the heat of the coffee. It was nice

sharing the house with his son. They hadn't argued or fought once.

The boys finished going through the manual and set it down on the floor. Turning

to Abe, Bill asked, "Do many blacks ride motorcycles?"

Jerry almost choked on his coffee, but didn't say a word. Abe was silent for a

while before he answered, "I guess not."

"So I guess you'll be a trendsetter, huh?"

Laughing at the idea of being a trendsetter, Abe said, "Shit yeah. I'm gonna be

da big man on campus."

Sitting back watching his son and Abe interact was a pleasure for Jerry. He had

liked Abe the moment he had met the boy and it was clear that his son had liked

him as well. Rather than interrupt, he let the two boys talk about teenage

topics of which the mysteries of girls figured highly. Not surprisingly, his son

was a lot less knowledgeable about the fairer sex than Abe. Two years of age

difference tended to have that effect. Still, Bill came with some interesting

insights from watching his sister interact with the boys.

After an hour of relaxed conversation, Jerry said, "Hate to break this chat

session up, but I'm beginning to get a little hungry."

Picking up the manual off the floor, Abe said, "I'll head home and study some

more. I'll be back when my mother gets home."

"It's been nice meeting you, Abe," said Bill.

"Hey, dude. I'll be seeing you around, won't I?"

"Yeah, I think so," answered Bill as he glanced at his father for confirmation

and receiving it in the form of a nod of the head. The day had been very

unexpected and he was still trying to sort out events in his mind. It was rather

difficult to consider his father living in this neighborhood and having friends

not much older than him. He had never thought of his father as a friendly sort

of person.

As Abe went to the door to leave, Jerry said, "I know it is going to be tough,

but don't ride the scooter until we get your license."

Nodding, Abe said, "Yeah. I read that if I get a ticket now then I won't be able

to get a license for six months. That would really suck."

Smiling, Jerry said, "Yes, it would suck."

Once Abe had left, father and son looked at each other wondering who was going

to be the first to say something. Jerry broke the silence when he said, "I know

it has been kind of strange visit. I hope that hasn't disappointed you."

"I'm not disappointed, but I am hungry."

"Are you up to some Mexican Food? There's a nice little place not too far from

here that serves pretty good food."

"That sounds good to me."

Taking the time to lock up the house, Jerry led his son to his truck. A few

minutes later they pulled into the parking lot of a Mexican Restaurant. This

place was on the other side of the area where he lived, the part of town that

was totally Hispanic. At this restaurant, the help didn't speak English and the

food was authentic. Climbing out of the truck, Jerry said, "This is a good place

for us to eat and talk. Most of the people here don't understand English."

Bill shrugged his shoulders and went into the restaurant. It was hard to ignore

the fact that it suddenly got very quiet the moment they walked into the place;

giving the impression that they were trespassing where they weren't wanted. His

father just looked around the room searching for an empty table, but folks

quickly looked away once they took in his size. They might be trespassing, but

no one was going to make a comment about it.

Seating himself, Bill followed after him and asked, "Do you eat here much?"

"This is about my third time here. Why?" Jerry asked, surprised by the question.

Glancing around the room and taking in all of the stares, Bill said, "It doesn't

look to me like people are all that happy to see us here."

People turned to face their plates when Jerry looked around, suddenly interested

in their meals. As a result, Jerry didn't see that he wasn't really wanted.

Shrugging his shoulders, he replied, "Doesn't look that hostile to me."

They were there for a few minutes before the waitress showed up at the table.

Bored, she asked, "Que?"

"Dos, Tres Tacos, por favour. Dos, Tea."

Raising an eyebrow, Bill said, "I didn't know you spoke Spanish."

"That was it," laughed Jerry at the suggestion that he spoke Spanish. Sitting

back, he said, "You know something. I know very little about you. I don't know

what you like or dislike."

"I hate school," replied Bill shaking his head. Although it was the kind of

thing that most kids would say without really meaning it, Bill was very serious.

He detested school and the kids at school.

"You're big like me. The new kids want to prove how tough they are by fighting

you. The other kids mock you, treating you as though you were stupid and without

a brain in your head. Nobody feels comfortable around you because they're afraid

that you'll get mad at them and rip them a new asshole," replied Jerry. "Did I

get that right?"

"Nailed it," replied Bill shocked that his father was able to summarize his

situation so clearly.

"I guess things haven't changed much about school since I was there," replied

Jerry with a trace of sadness in his voice. He understood the hurt and pain that

came from being large.

The waitress came and set iced teas on the table. She didn't say a word, but

Jerry said, "Gracias."

"Do I have to return to school?" asked Bill. In seven days, he was going to

return to school and the continued misery that school meant for him.

"Yes, there's nothing more important than school."

"I was kind of hoping that since you understood about how horrible school was,

that you would let me stay at home," replied Bill. Even as he said it, he knew

that it was an unrealistic expectation.

"No. I couldn't do that."

There was a long pause in the conversation as both of them thought their own

thoughts on the matter. When the waitress brought over the tacos, Bill stared at

the dish. It wasn't like the normal taco. Instead, it was a soft corn tortilla

with a smattering of tomatoes and some herb that he didn't recognize with some

chunks of beef on it. Looking at his father, he asked, "This is a taco?"

"Yes. It's the real thing. Try it." Jerry picked up a taco, rolled it up and

took a bite.

Following the example of his father, Bill did the same thing. He was surprised

at the flavor as it was as far from the tacos that he knew as an enchilada was

from a burrito. Swallowing, he said, "Hey, I like this."

"Good. I thought you might," replied Jerry before he took another bite of his

taco. He made a low humming noise from deep in his throat signaling how much he

was enjoying it. The noise brought a funny look from his son since it sounded

more like a bear growling than a noise of appreciation.

Returning to the previous subject, Bill asked, "So what can I do to have a

better year at school?"

"How about you find a friend?"

Scoffing, Bill replied, "Not much of a chance of that."

Thinking about it, Jerry realized that the first friends he had made were Abe

and Martin. Shaking his head, he thought about how Bill could go about

identifying people that might give him a chance. He said, "You know that someone

is going to want to fight you in the first week of school."

"Right. I'll probably have a fight the second day of school." That had been true

last year and the year before.

Shaking his head at the very negative assessment, Jerry said, "Maybe you can use

that to your advantage."

"How?" The disbelief in the young man's voice was unmistakable.

"If you walk away, everyone is going to call you a coward. Right?"

"Yes."

"If you hit back, you'll get in trouble and help propagate the mean guy image.

Right?"

"That's right. I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't," replied Bill thinking

about his situation.

"So what happens if you do nothing?" asked Jerry not really having an answer to

that question. He had never done that when he was in school.

"I'll get the shit beaten out of me," replied Bill in scorn.

"I know that, but what else will happen?"

The question stunned Bill as he sat there thinking about it. If he were just to

stand there and let someone beat the hell out of him, it would definitely be

told throughout the school. He wondered if he could allow someone to hit him

without responding. Shrugging, he answered, "I have no idea."

"Neither do I."

"So you are suggesting that I just stand there and take it?"

"The decision is yours. If you were to do that, I'd be sure to wear a cup. You

and I both know the first thing those idiots try to do is kick you in the

balls," replied Jerry. The days of schoolyard fights returned in their full ugly

details. Even thinking about it awakened the rage.

Sitting across from his father, Bill said, "It still makes you mad when you

remember high school."

"Yes. The only one that would have anything to do with me was your mother. I

married her after high school." Thinking back to those days, he realized that

his wife had married him because she thought she could control him. She was

right. He was so desperate to have someone in his life that he put up with her

for eighteen years. Sighing, he said, "Don't make the same mistakes that I

made."

"So what am I supposed to do while some guy is beating me up?"

"You might make sure that you don't get hurt. After it is over, look around at

the people to see who is looking at you with respect or admiration. They'll be

your friends," suggested Jerry.

Nodding, Bill went to work on his second taco. As he ate, he realized that he

actually liked his father and that his leaving the house was probably the best

thing that could have happened. At home, he would never have a chance to talk to

his father like this. After swallowing, he asked, "What do I do if this doesn't

work?"

With a wink, Jerry replied, "You beat the shit out of the next guy that tries to

fight you."

The two of them laughed and went back to eating. Occasionally, one of them would

chuckle at some idea that flitted through their mind. The meal passed

peacefully. When they had finished and sat back to sip their teas, Jerry said,

"I didn't realize it, but I haven't had a meal with someone in ages. It's nice

having company over lunch."

"Same here," replied Bill looking sad. He lived a pretty miserable life. At

home, his mother and sister treated him like he was dirt. At school, he was an

outcast that ate alone at his own table. Thinking about it, this was the best

day he had in years.

"As much as I've enjoyed your company, I'm afraid that I'm going to have to take

you home now. I don't want your mother to know about this, I fear that she'll

try to destroy it."

It was a somber assessment of his mother, but Bill agreed with his father. If

she knew that he and his father actually liked each other, she'd throw a fit. "I

understand. I won't say a word about the scooter."

"How about we get together Mondays after school? I can pick you up there and we

can have an afternoon together."

The idea appealed to Bill and he nodded his agreement. Smiling, he said, "That

would be great. I guess rather than dropping me off at home, you could drop me

off at the mall."

After paying the bill, Jerry took Bill back to the mall where he had met his son

earlier that morning. Traffic was picking up around the mall as mothers went

shopping for back to school clothes.

Driving back to the house, Jerry noticed a SUV stuck in the middle of a

three-lane road. The cars behind her were honking their horns and shouting

things. Pulling over to the shoulder of the road, he got out and approached the

car, much to the irritation of the driver that was forced to stop for him to

cross the road. Others honked their horns at the delay.

The driver, a woman in her late twenties, was sitting in the car with a baby in

a baby seat. It was easy to see that she was upset at being stuck in the middle

of the road and had no idea what to do. When she saw Jerry coming towards her

car, a look of fear crossed her face. The guy was huge and if he wanted to hurt

her, there was nothing that she could do to stop him. With a quick movement, she

hit the door locks, but her windows were open a crack.

As he approached the car, he could hear the locks. It was obvious that she was

afraid him. Rather than get too close and scaring her further, he shouted, "Put

it in neutral and release the brake. I'll push your car. You'll have to turn the

key to the on position so that you can steer it over to the shoulder. Once

you're on the shoulder, hit the brake."

The woman shouted, "The car is hard to steer."

"Put a little muscle into then," replied Jerry. Stretching, he bent down and put

his hands on back of the SUV. Taking a deep breath, he started pushing. Despite

the weight, it wasn't as hard to push as the Caddy had been. The woman slowly

steered the car so that it was moving in the direction of the shoulder. The car

slowly sped up as Jerry continued to push. When it was moving fast enough, he

walked behind the car.

The driver in the lane between her and the shoulder of the road honked his horn

in irritation. After a single look from Jerry, the driver stopped and let her

move across his lane. When the car reached the shoulder, Jerry stopped and

headed back to his truck. He was in it by the time the woman had stopped her

car. Driving past, he waved goodbye to her and went on his way.

Returning home, he had an hour to kill before he expected Abe to show up with

his mother. To kill time, he went into the room where he had stored the new

scooter and looked over it. It wasn't the top of the line model, but it was

definitely good enough for his son to use to and from school.

Standing in the room reminded him of the photographs. Going over to the closet,

he retrieved the pictures and took them to the living room. He felt guilty

looking at them, as if he was peeping into someone's window, but he couldn't

resist the temptation. There were thirty pictures in all. The top one was of the

woman's cunt spread open in a gynecological shot that showed lots of pink. This

was the first time that he had ever really seen a picture of a black cunt

before. Outside of the color of the surrounding skin, it looked the same as

every other cunt he had seen - all one of them.

The next picture was nearly identical to the first picture and he realized that

he was looking at the pictures in reverse order. Turning over the stack, he

started on the top picture. The picture showed an attractive black woman in her

mid-thirties standing in a cheap shirtdress. He examined her and tried to make

up a story about how she ended up in front of the camera.

Flipping over the next picture, it was of the same woman with about half of the

buttons undone on the dress. There was a slight hint of a white lacy bra where

the dress was open. He looked over the woman moving her age down a little and

decided that she was much more attractive than he initially considered.

The third picture in the series showed her removing the skirt dress. Her full

figure was shown to better advantage in this picture. He smiled as he looked at

the picture wondering who she was and where she was today.

Looking through the stack, each picture revealed more of her body. When the lacy

bra was removed, her breasts hung down showing the effects of gravity. The

picture of her well-rounded rear showed the classic Black form. For the first

time, he could understand the attraction that a large ass might have for a man.

The final pictures showed her in very explicit poses in which she bared her cunt

to the camera. When he reached the picture that he had first seen, it looked

much sexier than when he had first looked at it. He had a raging hard-on by this

time and looked over the whole sequence of pictures one more time.

He returned the pictures to the bedroom and was about to head to the bathroom to

jack off into the sink when there was a knock on the door. Adjusting himself so

that his erection wasn't so obvious, he went to the door and answered it. Abe

was standing there with a grin holding up the manual. Behind him was his mother.

Shocked, Jerry looked at her a second time and realized that he had just found

the model in the pictures.

It took him a second to recover. Stepping back, he said, "Please come in. I was

just about to..."

Abe said, "This is my mom. Mom, this is Jerry Smith."

Abe's mother looked at her son and shook her head. She didn't need some white

guy calling her mom. Extending a hand, she said, "I'm Sharon Spencer."

"I'm pleased to meet you Ms. Spencer," replied Jerry as he still struggled to

regain his balance. It was strange talking to her when just a minute ago he was

about to jack-off after looking at pictures of her.

"So formal. Just call me Sharon."

Jerry nodded and said, "Just call me Jerry."

Bouncing in excitement, Abe asked, "Can we go now?"

Recognizing the impatience of youth, Jerry smiled and said, "Sure, Abe. Let's

go."

As he locked the door of the house, Sharon said, "I want to thank you for giving

both of my boys jobs."

In a voice that was far more gruff than intended, he replied, "I'm not giving

them anything. I made an offer of employment and now they are working to keep

the jobs."

She realized that he wasn't going to accept any credit for what he had done. The

stories her sons had told her about this white guy confused her. He didn't seem

to want anything from them, but was helping them out in ways that she never

expected from a white man. Shrugging, she replied, "They are good boys."

"Martin is a man and Abe is well on his way to becoming a man," replied Jerry.

Reaching the truck, he was at a loss of what to do. Was he supposed to hold the

door open for her? Fortunately, Abe took care of the situation and opened the

door for his mother. She slid in the seat of the truck taking the middle

position. Abe got in beside her.

Still off balance, Jerry got into his side of the truck. Starting the engine, he

said, "Off we go."

It was a thirty-minute drive to the department of motor vehicles despite the

fact that it wasn't anywhere near rush hour. As they traveled, Sharon quizzed

her son on the driver's manual offering the occasional trick question. Jerry

almost laughed when Sharon asked, "According to the driver's manual, how many

times have you had sex?"

Abe was about to answer, but realized that it wasn't a question that was going

to be asked on the driver's test. He replied, "Oh, mom!"

Jerry chuckled and continued driving. It was with a little relief that they

arrived at the DMV. Parking was always a problem and he had to drive around the

parking lot twice before he spotted a car leaving and pulled into their slot.

Getting out, they went into the DMV office.

It doesn't matter where in the country a person goes, but there is no place like

the DMV office except perhaps the Social Security office. There were long lines,

signs that meant nothing, and grumpy people standing around looking bored. A

smattering of chairs were occupied by overweight mothers surrounded by loud

screaming kids. Jerry felt that finding the correct line on the first try should

guarantee a driver's license.

It took five minutes to locate the correct line. While Sharon and Abe were

checking out the lines, Jerry noticed a stack of application forms on a table.

He grabbed one of each form figuring that in the time required to get to the

front of the line that Abe would be able to fill out each one and submit which

ever one was the correct one. Handing the stack of forms to Abe, he said, "Fill

them all out. One of them has to be the right one."

Everyone in line around Abe laughed at the logic. An old woman crooned, "Don't

worry. They don't put the right ones out."

The woman's comment brought even more laughter. Sharon said, "We'll wait in a

chair until you get up front and then I'll bring your birth certificate up to

you."

"Sure mom."

Jerry and Sharon returned to the waiting area and sat on two chairs separated by

an empty chair. Turning to the black woman, Jerry asked, "So what do you do for

a living?"

"I work at the Hilton." There was an edge to her voice that puzzled Jerry.

"Oh, what do you do there?"

"I'm a maid." The sentence was delivered in a flat tone of voice that suggested

she was not proud of her work and dared him to make a negative comment.

"Okay," replied Jerry in a very flat tone of voice. He had no idea how to

respond to that.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing, I just said okay," replied Jerry surprised at her overly sensitive

reaction to his acknowledgement.

Sharon stared at him knowing that he didn't think much of her. What did a white

man know about being a single mother and trying to hold down a job? Nothing,

that's what. When she said that she worked in a hotel, he probably thought she

was a hooker or something. She said, "You didn't need to say anything. I know

what you were thinking when you said okay."

"You knew that I was asking myself the question as to what is the appropriate

reply to that occupation?"

"Huh?" Asked Sharon not quite understanding what he said.

"What are you supposed to say when someone says they are a maid? I mean, that's

not the kind of job that you say, 'Oh my, that's so interesting', or something

to that effect." Jerry sat and looked directly at Sharon as though expecting an

answer.

Shock and surprise showed on her face before it was replaced with laughter. She

answered, "I never thought about it like that."

"So what is the proper reply?"

Deciding that she liked this guy, she said, "I guess the proper response is,

'That sucks.'"

"Okay. That sucks," replied Jerry with a grin. He turned in his seat to face her

a little more directly and said, "It must be rough trying to hold down a job and

taking care of two teenage boys. I'm not saying that they are bad, but I imagine

they have their mischievous moments."

"Mischievous moments? Hell, I'm lucky I'm not a grandmother already."

Jerry laughed at that and said, "My boy is thirteen and I imagine that the fun

days are only about to begin."

Sighing, Sharon said, "The kids in our neighborhood are a lot more sexually

active than the kids in white neighborhoods. They have too much time on their

hands and not enough supervision. Half the girls in the neighborhood will be

knocked up before they are eighteen. None of the boys will take responsibility

for the babies. Hell, most of the time the girl doesn't even know which of the

boys is the father."

"That sucks," replied Jerry aware that he was being given an insight into the

neighborhood that very few people were given.

"It sure does. That's how I ended up with my two boys."

Nodding in a nonjudgmental fashion, Jerry said, "You've done a good job raising

them."

They sat quietly for thirty minutes until Abe hit the front of the line. Sharon

went over to deal with providing them her son's identification and to sign the

papers that were required of her. While they were taking care of that, one of

the black women sitting near them asked, "Is she your ho?"

"Pardon?"

"She your ho'?"

Jerry shook his head and ignored the woman. What kind of a question was that? He

didn't even know what it meant. Sharon returned while Abe was taking his test

and the pair of them waited for him to finish. It was getting close to closing

time by the time he had finished. Coming over to where they were sitting, he

held up a new driver's license as he said, "I passed."

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