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This is in response to Jacci's writing prompt.  I tried to stay under 500 words....and failed!





Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.


August, 1965


 


Paris sat in her father’s 1957 Chevy and sighed.  She’d run out of gas.


 


She fumbled in the glove compartment and found the flashlight that was there and prayed that the batteries worked.  She quickly cut it on and breathed a sigh of relief.  The only thing she could do was to walk to a phone that was at least a mile away.


 


She got out the car and smoothed down her  mini skirt and put her purse on her shoulder.  Crickets chirped noisily and the sound of her feet against the graveled highway crunched obnoxiously.


 


Paris tried not to be nervous, but she couldn’t help but to think about all the riots in California and Dr. King marching in Selma.  There was a lot of tension between blacks and whites lately and she prayed that she could make it to the phone safely.


 


At eighteen, Paris Branch knew few whites and it pained her to see her family members lower their eyes in white’s presence while they smirked in approval.  She knew that while coloreds were as good as whites, there were rules that had to be followed in order to survive. 


 


Halfway to the intersection, Paris saw a car approaching and she quickly walked to the side of the road and cut off the flashlight.  She didn’t want to take any chances.


 


The car drove by and she sighed in relief and cut the flashlight back on to continue her journey.  In a matter of moments, the car had turned around and stopped.


 


Her heart jumped as a tall white youth got out of the car and stood in front of the headlights giving her a harsh view of his blonde hair and lanky frame.


 


“You alright?”  he asked with a deep southern twang.  “I saw your car back there.”


 


Paris stared at him, her mouth dry.


 


“You alright?”  he asked again.


 


“Uh, I ran out of gas” she stammered.


 


“Well I got some in the trunk”  he said smiling at her.  “You don’t even have a gas can.  How was you gonna get gas?”


 


“I was going to call home” Paris replied not moving.


 


“Well, don’t you worry about that.”  He opened the passenger door.  “Come on.”


 


Paris stood there, undecided.  It wasn’t a good idea for a colored girl to get in the car with a white boy on a dark road at night…especially a boy she didn’t know.  He stared at her as if reading her mind.


 


“I ain’t gonna hurt you.  Honest” he said.  “I’m Billy Weston. My Pa is Dr. Weston.  You know him?”


 


Paris was surprised.  Dr. Weston treated a lot of colored people and she knew that he had a son a couple of years younger than herself.


 


“Yeah.”


 


“You’re Millie’s daughter, aren’t you?”  he asked as she got in the car.


 


“I am” Paris replied.


 


“I met your Ma”  Billy said pulling behind her car.  He quickly got the can and put the gas in her car.


 


“There.  That should get you home”.


 


Paris nodded and started it up.  He stood by her car door a moment as if wanting to say something.


 


“You’re real pretty.” he mumbled and then rushed back to his own vehicle quickly pulling off.












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Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.