Southern Rain
I, Starlette Daily, have the perfect life. Head cheerleader, straight A�s, rich family, great friends, best style, and every guy�s fantasy. Yes. I had it all. My life was so perfect. My life was so� boring. Until I met Jim.
Autumn 1983
I met Jim Robinson in the local drug store. He was, as I will bluntly put it, black. I know it�s not a big deal today, Frieda. But that was the 80�s in Maybloom, Texas. Even though segregation was dead, old racism still lived on. Your great-grandparents were bigots. I was guilty of being of closed-minded until I met your grandfather.
Anyway, I met Jim while I was buying rollers. He was in front of me, buying cigarettes. At first, he meant nothing to me. I actually thought he was crass, harry, and a plain nigger. He and the clerk�s wife were fighting with each other like howler monkeys. Two ladies behind me and I became annoyed. I wanted to straggle that nigger for holding up the line.
Fed up, I yelled out, �Move it nigger!!!� Your grandfather and the clerk�s wife turned to me. Jim looked cross. �Shut up, white bitch!!!� Oh, I was pissed now! I stepped forward and slapped him in the head. Everyone stood stunned. I didn�t care. He was just being rude. I just had to do something.
I was so livid that I threw down the rollers and stormed out of the store. I thought that was the end. It was really just the beginning.
After my daily routine, I began to head home. On my way home, I heard someone whistle at me. I turned to see your grandfather leaning against the tall wooden fence. He was dark and grinning. I grew suspicious instantly. �What do you want?� I hissed. The boy just turned to me sweetly. �Aw, miss.� he addressed. �I followed you to apologize.� I stared at him blankly. �For what?� I finally asked. �Being rude or holding up the line?� The boy stepped closer. �Both.� he answered. �You see, Mrs. White was trying to short-change me for the cigarettes. I was only trying to get justice. And here.� Then, he reached into his bag and pulled out my rollers. I took them cautiously. �I bought those for you, before you accuse me of stealing!� he said quickly. I was still staring at him. �Why did you do it?� I asked. The boy just kept smiling at me. �Because,� he replied. �It�s the least I could do for calling you a white bitch.� I was confused now. �Uh� thanks�. uh�.� I replied. �Jim.� the boy said. �Okay, Jim.� I said uneasily. �I am Starlette.� �I know.� your grandfather replied. Then, he walked off. I just stood there and stared at him. He was an odd duck. But this would be your grandfather and your father and aunt�s father.
1983
1983