Distant+Whispers

“White? Oh no! They are not white! They are German!”
Tina shook her head.
Mikell closed his eyes and nodded. The Americans thought of race in ways different than the
Europeans. “Ahh, I see. You are right. They are white. I don’t think of them like that.” He pointed at
each photo. “This is my mother, next to my father. Those are my grandparents, the parents of my
mother. And this is Tina, my dear sister. I call her Wildfang.”
“Wildfang?” Toni hunched her shoulders. “What does that mean?”
“Here, you would say, Tom Boy, I think. You would like Tina.”
“I bet I would. That’s how I got my nickname. Toni!”
“Your name is not Toni?”
“Kinda. It’s Antoinette. I was somewhat of a tomboy growing up—a wildfang, like your sister.
And there was this cereal called Frosted Flakes. It had this tiger on it called Tony the Tiger. And my
godfather—that’s Uncle JT at the barber shop—nicknamed me Toni, because I scratched up a whole
lot of boys.” Toni giggled. She traced her finger on Mikell’s photos. “This is your father?” I thought
that you were searching for—”
“It’s complicated,” Mikell said, shaking off the question. “That man is also my father. He…he
was kil--, he is dead.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Toni placed a hand on Mikell’s arm.
Mikell stared at the photo of his father. “Your son is still in school?” He asked quickly. “I thought
the school year was over.”
Toni froze at the question. “He, ummm, he goes to a special school. They have classes in the
summer.
“I’m sure that he is special.”
“Excuse me,” Toni’s pulse quickened.
“Your son, he is special because he has you for his mother.”
Toni looked away. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“Now,” Mikell said suddenly, let us try the sweet potato pie. I have heard so much of these
things.”
Grandmom Tweeney’s sweet potato pie began to intoxicate the both of them. It oiled their tongues
—much more effectively than liquor or drugs. Toni’s shoes came off and she found herself folded up
on the comfortable sofa next to Mikell, who stretched his long legs under the coffee table. They both
grinned and laughed as they recounted their classroom war stories. She was amazed at their
similarities. Teaching was teaching, everywhere, she realized.
She had become so engrossed in their conversation that she didn’t hear the insistent honking
coming from the highway.
It was Mikell who first flashed his eyes towards the living room window. “Do you hear that? That
honking! That’s the third time.”
Toni’s hands flew to her mouth. Jordan!
Her glass of iced tea almost spilled as she grabbed her purse, and dashed towards the door.
“I have to go. That’s my son.” She looked at her watch. My God, I’ve been here almost three
hours.