Black Buck(103)

Here, I texted Rose. Black hoodie. To the left of the fountain facing the arch.

She looked up and walked over.

“Sit,” I said, trying not to draw attention.

She gripped her hips, shaking her head. “No, fuck no. Do you know what’s going on over there?”

“Please, Rose. We have to lay low. Sit.”

She looked back at the crowd, then slammed her ass down. “Go to PSST News. There’s a live stream of this shit. That Missy Anne–looking bitch Bonnie Sauren is in the middle interviewing Clyde.”

I pulled the stream up on my phone. There was a shot of a plastic folding table featuring different baked goods. Behind it were WUSS members, smiling, taking cash, and handing out cookies and donuts. Some of them, I noticed, were Sumwunners who were conveniently out sick, but who obviously didn’t care enough to hide their allegiance to Clyde by standing off camera.

“Fuck,” I said. “I see some people from Sumwun, but this just looks like a normal bake sale.”

Rose scrunched her face in disgust, like she had stepped in a pile of shit. “Keep watching.”

“So, Clyde,” Bonnie said, wearing a slim-fitting white blazer and white skirt to match her I-can’t-believe-it’s-not-bleached! blonde hair. “For all of the viewers who just joined us, please explain what’s going on here.”

“Of course,” he said, smiling directly into the camera. “We’re throwing a bake sale. But not just any bake sale. No, ours has a more modern component to it. To truly reflect the times. You see, the costs of our baked goods depend on who’s buying them. If you pan over to here, you’ll see our list of prices.”

The camera focused on a sheet of paper propped up on the table.

Donuts: 50￠ each for Blacks, 75￠ each for Hispanics, $1.50 each for Asians, $2.50 each for Whites



Cookies: 10￠ each for Blacks, 25￠ each for Hispanics, 75￠ each for Asians, $1 each for Whites



Pie: $1 slice for Blacks, $1.50 slice for Hispanics, $2 slice for Asians, $3.50 slice for Whites



Coffee: Free for Blacks, and only for Blacks





“No fucking way,” I said, gripping the phone so hard it hurt.

“We figured that with affirmative action being such a hot topic—since it’s basically a tool for reverse racists to fill top institutions with kids who don’t belong there—we’d boil the issue down to something more tangible so people can understand the real harm that reverse discrimination inflicts on those who have nothing to do with the actions of their ancestors.”

Bonnie nodded, mesmerized. “And what has the response been?” she asked, grabbing a vanilla cookie.

“Extremely positive. People agree with what we’re doing and what we stand for, which is putting an end to all of this color crap. We’re all Americans and need to do our part to get ahead. No special treatment for anyone. And if there are people out there like those Happy Camper terrorists who think that they deserve special treatment, they’re in for a very rude awakening.”

I looked up from the phone. Rose was gone. She was already halfway to the crowd. I yelled after her.

She turned around and saluted me, pushing her way through the crowd. Seconds later, baked goods and coffee flew in the air as if they were bouncing off a trampoline, followed by screams and shouting. I wanted to go and get her but couldn’t. If Clyde saw me, he’d know that I was involved, which would destroy everything.

One of Clyde’s soldiers, a barrel-chested guy with a buzz cut, wrapped Rose in his arms and let her go once police arrived. PSST got all of it.



* * *





That night, Jake sent Trey to get her out, and when she returned to HQ, everyone clapped and whistled, a true soldier’s homecoming.

Fuck this. “Shut up!” I shouted. The party paused.

“Chill, D,” Soraya said, grabbing my arm.

I yanked it away. “No. There is no fucking reason we should be celebrating.” I swung my head around the room and stopped at Rose. “What you did today. You could have fucking ended everything we’ve worked for. For what? To flip a table?”

“To stand up to those peckerwoods,” Jason said, standing next to Rose.

“Which is more than you’ve done,” she added.

The entire room stood still as if stuck in time. “I’m just trying to make sure we survive this,” I said, softening my voice.

“What’s the point of just surviving, Buckaroo? It’s what we’ve done since we were first brought to this country. Me?” Rose said, turning to the group. “I’m tired of surviving. I want to thrive.”

Behind Jason and Rose stood fifty Happy Campers reflecting the same murderous desire for action. I knew what was up. Fuck a mutiny, this was a coup.

“Think,” I said, desperately appealing to reason. “If we do anything we can’t take back, this all goes up in flames.”

“Maybe so,” Jason said. “But I’d rather go out free in a burnin’ buildin’ than alive and shackled in the basement.” Tired, furious heads nodded.

“Everyone out!” I shouted, and turned to Jason and Rose. “Except you two.”

“Even us?” Brian asked, nodding toward Ellen, Jake, and Soraya.