Shorts

It's 3pm, I have been here since 11am this morning.   The protest is peaceful. The protesters are either kneeling up on one knee or they sit cross legged in the square. Many have the slogan from the news on placards and hand written signs. There is no chanting, no singing. Just people. All mixes, colours and religions.    Facing the group is a line of riot police. They stand like roman soldiers, shields locked together to form a wall. They too are not moving apart of the occasional shuffle.   There has been a lot on the news and the internet about this, what has led to it, how the reaction of the people has created an uprising and is spreading faster than a virus around the world. The media keeps telling me I have a natural privilege. Because of my skin colour. and that its 'people like me' who should be out there to make the change.   So here I am... not because I think I am in any way special but because I do want to support this movement. It is wrong that in the modern world there is still a divide and people are treated differently based only on the enzyme tyrosinase within their generic code. There are over 300 genes that dictate your skin, eyes and hair colour, produce the primary pigment melanin. This affects the colour of our skin from birth, if we tan, if we have freckles etc. I got skin so white that I practically glow in the dark. My hair however, is raven wing black and falls in a long straight curtain to my waist. I also have bright green eyes. My whole life has been spent with everyone calling me Snow White. My real name is Victoria, but most people settle for Vikki.   I'm sat cross legged with a small handmade sign saying "This isn't Justice!" it’s not the best slogan ever, there are a million more clever and witty ones around me. But I made it so it'll do for now. I'm sat a few rows back from the front. Beside me is the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. She is black skinned, like rich coffee, her eyes are pure gold, slanted up at the corners like a cat and outlined perfectly in eyeliner. She has the most beautiful skin I have ever seen. I keep sneaking peeks at her. Her afro hair is a halo of rich cinnamon and coffee curls. She is tall and slender, her skin tight jeans and knee-high boots make her look like a model, her tank top and camouflage jacket make her look like the leader of a gang in a film. I can't believe that someone so beautiful exists. I feel bland and colourless next to her. My natural monochrome colouring has nothing against this vivid colour and beauty. She catches me staring at her, she smiles "I'm Mystie" she whispers. "Vikki" I whisper back. She smiles and goes back to looking forwards. I don't know if it’s nice to meet me or what. I know she is here for a very different reason than me. Perhaps she thinks I’m doing this because it’s a white girl thing to do, because it makes me feel better about being white skinned and privileged. Perhaps I am. I'm not 100% sure but I really do think we need to change the world. This is my tiny chip against the walls of our current society.   I turn back to watching the police line. There is one cop who really stands out. He is tall, way over 6ft. Thick shoulders and a chest as wide as a small car. He stands differently to the other officers. Perhaps that is what made me notice him to begin with. He wears the same uniform but his looks sharper, more military that police. He has a crash hat style helmet with a mirrored visor down over his eyes. But his lower jaw and mouth are uncovered. His lips are held tight but have a lovely shape. His jaw looks square cut and sharp enough that you could probably use it in carpentry measurements. He has that golden skin tone that you just know he has blond hair and blue eyes. He is also wound up tight like a drum. If anyone will go pop its him. He's practically fizzing with tension.   No-one moves. We have been here sat in silence for hours now. People are starting to get restless. They shift as the move limbs that have gone to sleep. The police officers flick their attention to every rustle and shuffle in the crowd.   And then it happens. A young black kid at the front moves suddenly. Stands up.   Mystie swears under his breath "f**k!" she's as alert as a panther, a glorious big cat watching and waiting to take prey. But the cop is quicker. Within seconds he's grabbed the kid by his neck out between the 2 lines and has him face down and handcuffed on the floor. The crowd around me ripples. The whispers, a shout of "Hey!" people are standing now. I turn to Mystie, fear lancing though me like I have been stabbed in my stomach. "Keep them calm!" I say "Keep them back!"  She turns to me - "and what are you going to do Snow White?" she's hissing the words as though I just told her her place. I didn't mean to but maybe just maybe I can do this! I can use my white skin and natural born privilege. Perhaps I can do more than make a chip in the society wall.   I peel off my rainbow t-shirt. I know I have a good body. I'm strong, I run a lot and work out, I'm wearing a sports tank top style bra and my baggy lose cotton trousers. My flat stomach and good-sized chest are now very visible. "Am I white enough now?" I hiss. I really do not want to get shot and if my skin colour can be my shield then I need as much to stand out as possible. Mystie looks confused but nods. I put my t-shirt on my sign and stand up. I walk firmly but carefully towards the front lines. I place my feet just the way my old ballet teacher always wanted me to. I want to show by my movements how much white privilege I have. How they cannot shoot a rich white girl! My hands are empty and held palms out at my side. I look directly at the cop. He is now kneeling, his downward knee pressed into the back of the neck of the boy. I feel my anger rise, this was what got us here in the first place! I have no idea how I’m going to do this.   As I step out from the lines there is a murmuring behind me. But no-one moves. I hope Mystie can hold a lid on everyone right now. I really don't want to get hit on the head by a brick. I don't know why I trust her as a leader of the demonstrators but I do. I slowly and carefully walk across the empty space between the protest and the police. Strait towards the cop and the kid. I step over the kid. I am now within the very personal space of the cop. The knee that he has up (not the one on the kids’ neck) looks to be my best bet. The closer into him I stand the more the cop shifts back. Taking the pressure off the kid's neck and letting him breathe. Eventually I have the cop rocked right back. He hasn't moved anything else. I lower myself onto his knee. Like a teenager at a party. He freezes. He can't touch me. I can practically hear his thoughts, too much naked skin on show to touch me. It might not be safe. I'd cry s****l assault and he would get in worse trouble than if he killed the kid. This is what I protest about. That for some reason I have more value than other humans. Because I’m pale. This isn't right. Everyone should have the same respect and treatment. I don't believe Mystie for all her beauty and feline grace would have got this reaction from him.   I sit across his knee. He wobbles slightly to adjust for the shift in the centre of gravity my weight has created. But otherwise he remains frozen in position. I turn my head and let my hair fall alongside me. I close his view of the protest. It's just him and me now.   "What is your name?" I tilt my head and smile at my reflection in the visor I practically flutter my eyelashes. My pale skin and green eyes reflect back at me. The curtain of black hair creating a shield of its own against the whole world. His head slowly turns. I peek out beneath my lashes at him. I slowly raise my hands and lift his visor so I can see his eyes. I was right he has blue eyes; his hair is pure gold and his eyelashes are thick and full. He blinks. "Um.... Sargent Jones mam". I smile. "Hi Sargent Jones, is that a military rank or a police rank?" I open my eyes wide in admiration at such a strong man! I know how to flirt, it’s not something I usually need to do and I very rarely need to pull out all of the stops. But I’m going for it 110% right now. I actually cannot hear anything from around us. There is no noise from the hundreds of people I can feel watching us right now. It's like being on stage. I wonder if they are expecting a rabbit out of a hat? I almost want to giggle. At least he has moved off the kid. I lean further across him, sliding my outer hand down between my thighs. It turns my upper body more towards him. I again do a flutter blink. He swallows. His adam's apple bobs at the reflex. Gotcha! I think.   "Marines mam!" he says it that clipped tone that the military seem to force everyone to speak like.   "Semper fidelis - Always Loyal Always Faithful, it's a good motto and to add the police one? Protect and Serve?" He gulps again and nods. "Tell me Sargent, who are you loyal to? Who do you protect and serve?"   He blinks. "The people of America. Mam!" I nod.  "It's a very noble and brave career you have Sargent!" I'm doing my little girl voice. My mom hates it but usually gets me extra stuff when we go out, or a discount off the bill. I think it’s funny, messing with the young waiters or shop till boys. Mom will be proud if I actually do something good with it. "The military and the police are the bravest people in the country" I continue "They are the first people to go into a danger zone. A bombed village or a burning house to rescue the children. The ones who turn towards the scary stuff while we all run the other way." He nods slowly. "Tell me Sargent.... at what point did that kid" I move my head away and my hair shifts to unveil the kid laid flat on the floor hands cuffed behind his back "go from being one you would run into a fire to rescue to one you can choke to death because he got cramp in his foot? and why are you more frightened to touch my skin than you are his? Why would you get away with ending his life but you could lose everything if I cry a s****l assault? Would you be innocent until proven guilty both times or would you be removed from your post for me but not for him? Tell me Sargent..... Who do you protect and serve again?"   His eyes jump from the kid on the floor back to me. He does this a few times. Then he sighs deeply. Looking down at the floor for a minute he slowly lifts his hands and carefully removes the helmet completely. He places it carefully on the floor. The he raises his hand, palm upwards, I place my hand in his. The Kevlar gloves feel like robot armour I am sad he seems to be locked inside a shell. Robo-cop for real. He looks at our hands together, then he lifts me until I am standing. He stands as well. Still holding my hand. He looks down at the kid on the floor. Sighing again he removes his gloves and one by one drops them in his helmet. Now I know everyone is watching, holding their breath. I peek up at him as he stares down at me. I give him a little smile. He walks over to the kid and kneels again. This time beside him. He releases the cuffs and as the kid moves into a press up position to rise himself, I hear Sargent Jones say "I'm Sorry" nothing more, but his voice means it. The kid glances at me. "Yeah no sweat man!" Sargent Jones looks over to the medics. He lifts his chin to summon them over. "Check him please!" he says and turns away towards the police line.   His voice is parade ground loud when he speaks up, it carries around the square and echoes off the buildings "Chief, I don't feel well. I ask to be excused duty for this shift!" he is already stripping himself of the armour-plated elbow and knee pads, the stab vest and other police riot clothing. Eventually he stands in just his uniform. The chief of police nods "You are excused for the next couple of days Sargent but I want you to report for a full medical Monday!" Sargent Jones takes my hand and leads me back towards the front line of protesters. When I reach them, he lets go of my hand, steps back and sharply salutes both me and the crowd. The he turns and smartly walks away. I lose sight of him as he turns a corner.   Slowly I turn back towards the protest, walk back to where my place was. Mystie hands me my t-shirt. I pull it back on. Looking down at the rainbow across the front I smile, the rainbow was the sign that God gave after the flood, that he would never wipe out humanity again. That there would never be another flood. Perhaps my rainbow is my promise that I will never allow the world to be what it was before my promise to make a better world. We all settle back down to our quiet, sign holding, occasional cramp leg shuffle, protest.   Eventually, as it gets dark and the air starts to cool, people get hungry, or tired, or need to go and do the million little things that our brains need us to go and do and guilt trip us into doing no matter what. The protest slowly evaporates both people and the police eventually leave the square. I sigh, I need a coffee, and in true white girl style I head towards a global chain. Before I reach the door a man cuts in front of me. He's tall and his chest is so wide it essentially blocks the doorway. He is facing me. I look up, Sargent Jones is looking back down at me with bright sapphire blue eyes. His short blond hair is spiky. He gives a half smile. "Um..... Can I buy you a coffee?" he asks, I nod, why not? he is cute but very serious. I'm a little worried he's going to shout. "But not here" he gestures to the chain coffee shop behind him. Points to across the square, an alley runs down and away from the big shops "Down there". I gulp. Okey, time to test that privilege again and trust him not to lead me somewhere to hurt me. Nodding I let him turn towards the square and we cross it side by side. Not touching. After a couple of blocks, he opens the door to a little coffee diner. The woman behind the counter is dark coffee skinned, big and round both in face and body, her hair is covered by a cotton wrap. Her chocolate eyes are hesitantly smiling at us both in a half welcome. Sargent Jones heads towards and empty booth and I slid in opposite him. The woman bustles over to us. her skirt is the most fantastic rainbow of colours wrapped around her it almost shimmers in the dimmed lighting of the coffee shop lights. She offers a menu and I glance at the drinks. "Coffee please, milk no sugar" I smile at her. "Black for me" he says. And that's it, no more words from either of us. The coffee arrives. It's good. very good. I make a mental note to return here again soon, I love coffee.   Eventually we finish, Sargent Jones pays for the coffee, although I offered to he just shook his head. He opens the door and we step out into the night.   "I'll walk you home" he says. "It's ok, I'll get a cab" I say and he nods. "Goodnight Sargent Jones"   "Jackson" he says suddenly. I stare at him; I don't understand what he said "My name is Jackson!"   I nod "Vikki" I say. He nods back at me. He holds his hand up to summon a taxi and a cab pulls to the curb.   "Goodnight Jackson"   "Goodnight Vikki"   -------       Back home my mom is going nuts, she rushes to the door as soon as the cab drops me off. Dragging me inside she starts hugging me and telling me how brave I am. My step-dad is stood by the door to the den with a huge grin on his face. He is holding a glass of champagne. He hands me the glass. I have no idea what the fluff is going on I’m tired and really confused. Mom drags me into the den. the huge TV on the wall is showing the rolling news. My heart drops. There it is! Again, and again, round and round. The protest, Jackson cuffing the kid me walking over, almost half naked to sit on his knee. Jackson standing and freeing the kid. A close up of Jackson saluting and walking away. Again, and again, round and round. I'm horrified. Now I look like white privilege in action. Mom is so happy she cry's every time the clips get to him apparently saluting me. I close my eyes. The buzz of the day, the caffeine high and the real tingles I got from Jackson this evening suddenly vanish into horror. I turn explain I’m tired and go to bed.   My good deed looks fake on the TV. They couldn't hear my speech, see the looks in our eyes, hear the apology that cost Jackson so much. I cry until I fall asleep.   The next day the media have found us. The phone is ringing off the hook and, in the end, even Mom is getting pissed with it. I hide in my room but my mobile keeps lighting up with chat messages from all my friends. Was it really me? Did I really do it? I ignore them all. Message not read.   Monday comes and again the news is all over the story but now its poor Jackson who gets the limelight. The cameras wait on the steps of the police station. He walks up the steps, in full uniform, head high, face blank. The guilt again washes over me. The speculation is he will lose his job. The news people have done a lot of digging, a war hero, left the army after active service to join the police. A couple of years into civilian life and it all goes to pot. As my step-father points out, Jackson had already overreacted before I got involved. I guess that bit is all on him.   I am glued to the TV in the den. Eventually at 2.30 the police doors open and Jackson steps out. His uniform looks as smart as it did when he was first on TV this morning, the man obviously doesn't crease.   Jackson stops on the steps. The Chief of police steps out and stands behind him. Jackson takes a deep breath - I actually lean closer to the TV.   "I wanted to make a statement today to address the events that happened at 3.30 pm on Saturday afternoon. I was a member of the police department who were assigned to attend a peaceful demonstration in the main square. I made a mistake and I very nearly hurt someone. An innocent man. For which I am truly shocked and appalled by my own actions. I have had a long career both in the military and the police and I have prided myself on never making mistakes. And yet I made one on Saturday.  To prevent any further mistake a member of the public reminded me that as a marine and a police officer I have sworn to protect and serve the people of America. All people. Irrespective of their race, religion and beliefs. I had temporarily forgotten this and I am deeply sorry and ashamed of myself and my actions. I would like to assure all people of this town and beyond that I, Sargent Jackson Jones, will never again forget my sworn duty and that everyone will be protected and served with loyalty."   He walked straight through the crowd and away. The chief of police just walked back into the station and the doors closed again.   I allow myself to breathe again. My phone pings a message from my best friend "Your man is cute!" not my man. I doubt I will ever actually see him again.   I do meet Jackson again, and again it is in the town square. Mom had dragged me out shopping for stuff and the promise of lunch at a favourite restaurant as a reward for putting up with it. This time Jackson is handing out badges and helping with a kid’s activity day, a skinny kid with caramel skin is chatting to him while he listens intently. Sitting on the steps of the square is Mystie. "Hey Snow White!" she calls when she sees me. I smile and walk over, mom trailing behind me for once. I'm surprised when Mystie hugs me, I'm enveloped in a beautiful warm shea and coconut butter smell mixed with peppermint from the smoothie she is sipping though a paper straw. "I didn't say thank you." She says "You rescued my little brother." It was her brother? no wonder she had jumped up so fast when Jackson had cuffed him. I grin. "No problem! I guess it was a Privilege?" I say and grin as I finish the last word, wiggling my eyebrows to add emphasis. She groans and rolls her eyes and hugs me again. I walk over to Jackson and see that the kid he's talking to was the one he cuffed. Mystie's brother. They are discussing a peculiar and obviously very in-depth thing as neither looks up as I approach. Eventually Jackson raises his head and sees me. "Vikki" he says in a very non tonal way, no happy to see you! or, how are you? or anything in his voice. The kid turns, sees me, and practically jumps to hug me as well. After practically knocking me down he remembers he’s 15 and that's not a man thing to do. He thanks me again and again, and then says Mystie is here, did I see her? she wants to see me! For fear that he's going to run out of breath totally I say yes, I saw his sister, it's ok he is very welcome for Saturday and I ask after his health. Apparently, he had no issues and Jackson er... Sargent Jones is going to help him train in the gym and get ready to join the marines. And then he's off, bouncing like an enthusiastic puppy back to his sister to tell her everything.   Jackson turns towards me. "It's nice to meet you again." I say then I turn bright red as he grins. His smile changes his whole face and his eyes twinkle. I take a deep breath and go for it "Can I buy you a coffee? There's a great place not far from here" I point towards the alley way we walked down before. He grins again and nods. "I'd like that." he says.       Yes.  So would I!