Thunder and Lightening
Chapter 9
By
Lazlo Zalezac
Copyright (C) Lazlo Zalezac, 2004

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."
