by Omar Tyree
“What movie is that?” Troy asked.
“Shut up, man,” Doc snapped. “You ain’t gon’ let me use your clipper, right? Now see if I ever give you anything again.”
“I mean, Doc, I let you use my clippers all the time. You don’t even come to me for a haircut no more.”
“ ’Cause you might fuck my hair up. You ain’t got no license.
“You know what I mean, Meat. He might be mad ’cause he got a F on his test or something, and take it out on me,” Doc explained.
Troy sucked his teeth while they laughed at him. “How many people have you seen me mess up? Seriously, cuz, all I give is fresh cuts.”
Demetrius attempted to side with Troy. “Dig, D. Troy do give some nice-ass cuts.”
“So how come you don’t let him cut your hair?”
“I’on know, man. He might fuck my hair up, too.”
Doc fell out across the bed with laughter. Demetrius chuckled at the comment himself. All the comedy forced Troy to join in and smile.
“See, Troy, Meat don’t trust you to cut his head either,” Doc said. “I gotta get something to drink.” He was still giggling as he headed toward the door. When he got close enough, Troy gave him an elbow to the chest.
“Oh Troy, all that, man?” Doc asked seriously.
Troy threw his hands up in a boxing stance. “Yeah, boy, you don’t want none. So go ‘head.”
Doc took heed and retreated as Troy smiled in victory.
“Yo, Troy, I heard you going to Tubman University,” Demetrius said.
“Yeah, man, I gots to get away from these White people.”
Demetrius frowned, confused. “Get away from White people? You can’t get away from White people,” he responded with a smirk. “I mean, once you get out of school, they gon’ be right there waiting for you, unless you go back to Africa or Haiti or some shit, where it’s, like, limited White people. I mean, that’s just the real world, man. You better wake up and smell the coffee. You just gon’ make yourself miserable.”
Troy shook his head in disbelief as Doc returned to the room.
“I’m telling you, Troy, if you going to a Black college to get away from White people, you just fooling yourself,” Demetrius added. “This is their country. They took this shit from the Indians, and they ain’t trying to give it up to no niggas. That’s just plain factual.”
Doc looked Troy over and smiled. “He ain’t goin’ there to be with Black people. He really goin’ for the girls.”
“Dig, that must be it, ’cause you can’t get away from White people if you plan on making a lot of money in this country,” Demetrius said. “And you wanna be a doctor, Troy? Now, come on, man, you know you gon’ have to deal with them.”
Troy sat on Demetrius’s dresser and prepared himself, mentally, for battle. “Yo, cuz, we gotta learn to change the rules of the game. It’s enough blacks with money to help us. We just gotta put pressure on them and do what we say we gon’ do.”
Demetrius threw his hands up in the air as if he was exhausted with the conversation. “Look, man, if you think these Black businessmen gon’ come to your rescue, forget about it. Niggas only be thinking about themselves,” he insisted.
“Yeah, you right. That’s why we gotta stop being niggas and start being humans. African humans,” Troy snapped. “I can see right now that that selfishness manifests itself right here on this college campus. We gon’ have to look out for our fellow African descendants sooner or later.”
Doc found amusement in Troy’s statement and began to snicker. “Ay’, Meat, he called us African descendants and shit.”
Troy shook his head and turned to leave the room. “Brothers gon’ have to work it out, man.”
“Yeah, aw’ight, nigga!” Demetrius shouted into the hallway. “You better stop listening to that Public Enemy shit. I mean, they cool and all, but don’t let that shit go to your head!”
Troy rumbled to his room still hearing the mocking laughter of his college friends. He entered his room feeling betrayed and hateful and didn’t notice that it was a quarter after ten. Karen was downstairs waiting for him in the lobby, and after lying across his bed to gather his thoughts, Troy finally realized that it was late.
“Damn! It’s ten-twenty!” he yelled right as the telephone rang. “Hello,” he answered, grabbing it off of the wall.
“Boy, I’ve been down here for thirty minutes, trying to call you. Where have you been?” Karen declared.
“I was down the hall and lost track of the time. But if you trying to rank me, you can stay down there even longer.”
They laughed as Troy hung up the phone and went to sign her in. At the sign-in table, at least five couples were waiting in line already. Karen sat with her bag on a couch behind the desk. Troy went over and sat next to her without saying a word. He eagerly watched the line move.
“Lot of people, ain’t it, Troy?” Karen asked him.
“Naw, not really. I just don’t feel like standin’ in no lines.”
She smiled. “Tell me something new.”
After Troy didn’t respond, Karen felt concerned.
“What’s wrong? Did you have a bad day or something?”
“Yup,” he pouted.
Karen chuckled, disclosing her chinky eyes and her beautiful smile. Having seen her smile at least a hundred times before, Troy still got a chill down his spine, loving how pretty she was. He felt proud of himself for having her.
“Yup, all my buddies need education,” he alluded.
“Oh, is that it? You’ve been preaching again, hunh?” Karen asked, grinning at him. “You always gotta have people see things your way. Come on, they’re all gone now.”
She stood with her bag and headed for the table.
“Do you think I’m wrong?” Troy asked her, moving up to the desk and getting out his I.D.
“No, but you have to understand that some things take time to happen,” Karen explained. “Just because you’ve become conscious doesn’t mean everyone else has.”
“Yeah, but it’s gon’ have to happen sooner or later.” Unfortunately, an old White woman, whom Troy didn’t like too much, was the nighttime monitor. She irritated him every time he went to sign someone in.
“Come on now, dear, get out your I.D. I don’t have all day, and other people are waiting,” the woman said to Karen, who was searching through her pocket book. “Do you have an I.D. card with you?” the woman persisted.
Troy gritted his teeth, giving the woman an evil eye.
“Come on, come on,” the woman repeated impatiently. “She’s getting the shit out, OK! Damn!” Troy shouted, no longer able to suppress his anger.
Karen finally pulled out her I.D.
“You don’t have to display an attitude and use profanity young man,” the old woman said.
Troy was unleashed. “What?Well look, you ain’t gotta be rushing her!” he screamed through the glass window.
White couples behind them looked on with astonishment, as if it was unheard of to argue with the dormitory monitor. To make things worse, a White resident accidentally bumped into Karen as he got off the elevator.
Troy shoved him to the side. “Ay’, yo, cuz, you better watch where the hell you walkin’! You ’bout to get punched in your damn jaw!”
“Jesus Christ, man! What did I do?”
Troy attempted to launch a mob of fists, but Karen quickly grabbed him onto the elevator. And like throwing kerosene on a house fire, a White girl smiled at him.
“What the fuck are you smiling at?”Troy shouted in disdain. “I’m tired of you fake-ass White people! Gon’ smile at me for no reason!”
No one dared to speak a word on the elevator as Karen covered her face and looked to the floor. Fortunately, Troy only lived on the fourth floor.
“Yo! Public Enemy!”Doc hollered down the hall. Karen asked Troy what Doc was referring to as soon as they arrived at his room.
“Don’t worry about that. He’s just jokin’ around,” Troy told her.
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She walked inside and stood at the door after closing it.
Troy turned and wondered what she was doing as he kicked off his shoes. “What the hell? Are you modeling now, or are you gonna take your coat off?”
Karen simply stared. “You know, Troy, you can’t go around flaring off like that. That was extremely embarrassing.” She then unbuttoned her coat. “And I thought you said you was gon’ stop cursing.”
“Shit, I’m fuckin’ trying, Karen! But I can’t help it when I get mad!”
“OK, that’s it!” Karen snapped. She tugged her coat back on and reached for the doorknob.
Troy rushed over to her. “OK, OK, OK. It’s my fault and I need to learn to control my mouth and my actions, but I love you and you can’t leave me or I’ll kill myself,” he said, grinning and grabbing her hands. He placed them around his waist and held her at the door. “I need you more than anything in the world. You can’t leave. Without you, I would have fallen to pieces months ago.”
“But you don’t listen to me, Troy, and I’m sick and tired of trying to tell you things.”
“I know, I know,” he said, just holding her there.
After a few minutes, he finally got her to hang her coat inside the closet. Karen wore a red, yellow, and green plaid skirt, a green turtleneck, and green stockings.
“Well, don’t you look colorful and green today,” Troy teased.
“If you don’t like it, I can go back home,” Karen responded with a smile. She kicked off her black shoes and pounced onto the sofa next to Troy’s desk.
“So where’s the books?” he asked her.
“They’re in my bag,” Karen told him. “You thought I was gon’ forget them again? I said I would bring ’em this time.” She got up and fell across his bed, stretching out like a cat.
“Dag, this is a big book,” Troy said, taking one from her bag. “I wish I could scan it and have all the information in my mind already.”
Karen playfully rolled her eyes at him. “You silly, you know that?”
“So why you love me, then?” Troy quizzed, thinking he had caught her off guard.
At first Karen just laughed, but then she answered him. “Because you remind me of my father,” she responded, turning the tables and catching him off guard.
“Hmm, that’s a new one. No girl ever told me that before.”
Karen grinned seductively. “If I can have it my way, no other girl will ever have you either.”
Troy was excited on the inside but remained calm on the outside. Karen’s boldness was a major reason for him liking her so much. All he could do was smile, reflecting his comfort and trust in her as he cuddled up beside her on the bed. Karen covered them both with his heavy quilt blanket.
“Karen?”
“Hunh,” she husked, sounding tired.
“I got two weeks till finals, and then a semester to go before I’m outta here,” Troy told her. “I came to this White school like a fool, and it changed my entire life.”
He stared up at the ceiling as he continued. “Had I known I would have come across all this racism here, I would have gone straight to Harriet Tubman. Then again, maybe all of this was for a greater purpose.”
The room got quieter, it seemed, with each word he spoke; and Troy began to tell his story from day one, freshman year, to a wise and beautiful companion whom he had grown to love.
SOLUTIONS
TROY ’ S CHATTER TOKAREN , REMINISCING ON ALL HE HADlearned and how much he had changed in only a year of college, put him in a deep sleep. His peaceful rest was abruptly ended in the middle of the night.
Bloomp bloomp bloomp bloomp bloomp.
“Open up! It’s the campus police!”
Bloomp bloomp bloomp.
“Hey, kid, you’re ’bout to be heading downtown if you’re not out here in two seconds!”
The sudden disturbance awoke Troy. Karen followed suit.
“Aw, Karen, I don’t believe this. That old White lady must of called the cops on me.”
Troy struggled from his bed to open the door. Outside in the hallway stood the Black security guard and four White police officers from Marsh County. The officers all wore black leather jackets, black hats, black nightsticks, black leather boots, and shining silver-and-gold badges. The security guard wore only a dark blue uniform with sewn-on cloth labels for identification.
“You got some kind of a problem, son?” the first White officer asked. He stared into Troy’s face to see if he could provoke him. He was heavyset and tall, reminding Troy of the riot control police in Philadelphia.
Troy was familiar with being questioned by officers throughout his childhood and he remained perfectly calm.
“What are you looking at, kid? Do you want me to bust your head open?” the officer challenged.
Troy looked to the Black security guard. “Did I do something wrong?”
“Well, the front desk monitor said that one of the kids had an attitude problem,” the security guard answered meekly. It was apparent he no longer had any authority in the situation.
“Look, I oughta run you down to the precinct. Now, when the lady tells you to do something, you do it, and with no back talk,” the first White officer demanded. The three others just stared, waiting.
Troy remained poised until the heat cooled off.
“Next time you do just what the lady says,” the Black guard suggested.
Troy looked at him with a sly smile.
“Yeah, well I tell you what, he better do what she says,” a second, thinner officer interjected. They then walked to the elevator down the hall, and Troy returned to his room.
“You believe that, Karen? They called all them cops up here for one student. They really trying to keep us in check up here,” he said.
“Yup, the cops are always beating people up in this city, especially if you’re Black,” Karen told him. She dropped her head back into the pillow.
“What time is it?” Troy asked before looking. “Dag, it’s only two o’clock, Karen. I thought I was sleeping for days.”
“I was just happy that you finally shut up and went to sleep.”
“What, I bored you?”
“No, you had an important story to tell, but I was just too tired to be listening, that’s all.”
“Yeah, well now you know how it happened to me.”
Karen smiled and closed her eyes for some much needed sleep.
After signing Karen out that Saturday morning, Troy maintained a high level of racial annoyance and hostility. Anything could trigger an outburst if he was provoked. White students never failed in making him flip. Nevertheless, he had to remain focused to complete one more semester at State U.
He headed toward the main cafeteria for breakfast. To enter the cafeteria, student employees would check identification cards for a meal plan. Most of the students would simply run the card through the electronic device. Few looked at the pictures; it was tedious and very time-consuming.
Most of the student employees were White. However, a Black student, whom Troy had known since freshman year, was on duty.
“Hey, what’s up, Troy?” he asked.
“Nothin’ much, George.”
Troy gave up his card on the go, expecting to get it right back. George flipped it over to check his photo and slowed him up.
“Ay’, George, what chew do that for, man?”
“I have to check I.D.’s. It’s my job.”
Troy gave George an evil eye. “Aw, man, you’ve seen me come in on other weekends. I don’t see dem White people checkin’ for the picture,” he argued. He was causing another stir as White students looked on from behind. But George withheld a response as Troy went in to get his food.
He spotted Matthew sitting by himself. “Yo, Mat. I can’t seem to catch up with you at all, cuz,” he commented, sitting down to join him.
“I’ve been studying at the library,” Matthew quickly responded.
“Cool, man. But I need help studying chemistry.”
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br /> Matthew nodded while forcing down a mouthful. “Aw’ight. But I want you to know that I got other finals to study for. And I always study a week in advance,” he informed Troy.
“Well, just get with me when you study chemistry,” Troy said, pressed about the lab exam. “Don’t they put all the sections together for the final?”
“Of course, man,” Matthew snapped.
Troy decided to ignore it. “Ay’, Mat, you know George?” he asked.
“Yeah.”
“Well, that goofy dude think I’m trying to get over with my meal plan.”
“What did he do?”
“I was in a hurry, right, like I always am, and he’s gon’ turn my card over to look at the picture.”
Matthew chuckled. “That’s his job, man.”
“So what? It ain’t like he don’t know me. He acts like he’s gonna get whipped if he don’t check I.D.’s or something.”
Matthew thought Troy’s complaint was trivial. “Yo, man, you be gettin’ into that race stuff too much,” he alluded.
Troy sighed. “Yeah, maybe I oughta cool down about that until I can get outta here. But hell, I’ve calmed down a lot already,” Troy said. “This White environment is making me run around in circles.”
Matthew leaned over the table to whisper to him. “When I was young, this White boy called my mom a black bitch, and I kicked his ass,” he said, chuckling to himself. He then leaned back to speak aloud. “Yeah, but I’m cool with White people now.”
Troy wanted to say something about the whispering. It annoyed the hell out of him! Yet he needed Matthew’s help for the final and he didn’t want to hurt his feelings, so he kept it to himself.
Troy studied all day after breakfast and then after dinner. He was taking his finals seriously. His application to Harriet Tubman University had already been sent off and he could not wait until his final term was completed.
Bloomp bloomp bloomp.
“Yo, Troy! Walk to the video shop with me, man.”
“Who is it?” Troy shouted from his desk.
“It’s Demetrius.”
“Aw’ight, hold up.”
He got up and grabbed his coat and hat from the closet for the bitter cold. He opened the door and Demetrius was all ready to go. “Dag, cuz. It musta gotten colder, hunh, Meat?”
