The Lazy Hate

Some things never change because it's just easier to leave them alone

DISCLAIMER: ▼

This story is about racism, sexism, and pretty much any 'ism' you can think of. The language of racism, as well as the other bigotry herein, is explicit, and it may be uncomfortable for many readers. Please read this story with the overall context in mind.

 

Adam
"Okay, I got a good one. What are three things you can't give a nigger? ... A black eye, a fat lip, and a job!"

Adam and his wife, Linda, laughed together. Milne and Frida, the eldest, snickered. But eight-year-old Naomi looked at all of them with dim discomfort.

"It's just a joke, honey," Linda told her I'm a reassuring voice. "It's not like we mean it."

Naiomi lay in bed that night listening to the rest of them laugh their way through reruns of All in the Family.

In the morning, she asked: "Mommy, is Daddy a racer?"

"A racer?"

"You know. A racer. Cos he doesn't like Deyshawn."

"Oh, you mean 'racist.'" Linda said the word slowly so little Naomi could remember it. "Of course he's not racist, honey. He can't be; he's got black friends."

Naomi sat down and ate her Super Sugar Crisp, relieved to know Daddy wasn't mean—"nigger" was just a word that made people laugh.

Lyman
"Kyle, I swear you're like the daughter I never wanted! What's so wrong with wanting to see you in the football team, or baseball? Shit, even golf!"

Kyle flopped into his desk chair, his thin, delicate fingers flaring with drama. "Dad! Come on, these fingers are made for the piano!" He crossed his legs at the knee and laced his fingers around them.

Lyman Fedor shook his head in resignation and thinly veiled disgust, looking at his son's effeminate posture. "Fine. Have it your way. All of it." He paused and leveled his eyes at the teen. "But don't bring your 'prom date' around here. You understand?"

Kyle looked at the floor, the drama and faux confidence drained away at once. "Yes, sir," he answered quietly, uncrossing his legs.

Ten minutes after Lyman left the room, Kyle heard him and his mother talking in their bedroom. "... ashamed that our son's queer. I'm not saying that, Viv. I'm just not going to let him turn this place into a Philadelphia bath house; he can meet his 'date' at his house."

Kyle wiped the tears he couldn't cry in front of his father from his eyes, and he breathed out a relieved sigh. At least he wouldn't be forced to play football. That's something, he thought. Not much, but something. He turned on his Yamaha keyboard and began to play the hurt away with a little Beethoven.

Linda
"Come on, Leslie. You know what I mean."

"It's just a lesson in civics, Linda. Aren't you taking this a little too seriously?" returned Leslie.

"With all the money I've given back into this school? Of course I take it seriously!"

"And a bit too personally?" interjected Zoey, her other brunch mate.

" Money is always personal, Zoey. It's what the money stands for, you know?"

"And that is...?"

All three women shared a knowing laugh and ordered another round of mimosas from the country club menu. They looked around at the white tablecloths, white walls. "Money" meant success... and some other things.

Lyman
"Adam, come on, I know vacation bible school is for everyone. But..."

"But what?"

"...Nah, never mind."

"Seriously, what's the problem, Lyman. I'm here for everyone, not just the kids," Adam coaxed.

"It's just...the Mexican kids—they're almost rabid about their religion. Milne wants to go this summer, but she says uncomfortable." Lyman paused and took a breath. "I think it's more like she's scared."

Adam thought for a moment. "You're not wrong, Ly, not completely. They are passionate about God, but they're supposed to be."

Lyman leaned in conspiratorily close to Adam. "I think one of them flashed a gang sign at Brandy and Milne, man. They were saying Catholicism was too focused on Mary, and he got up in her face. I saw it, but by the time I got over there, he had walked away. You know how they are, Adam..."

Adam spread his hands helplessly. "I wish I could help with this—I really do. But the church insists VBS is open to all denominations." He paused, rolling his eyes in sympathy with Lyman. "Even Catholics, I guess."

Naiomi
"Daddy, what's a spic?"

"Just a Mexican, honey," Adam answered casually, not looking up from his paper. "Now go play. Remember, Deyshawn's house is too far for you to go." He sipped his coffee and turned to the sports section.

Derrick
"You don't need them, anyway, Deyshawn, just go play with Serina. Or what about Marlin, you two used to be tight."

"But Naiomi's nice, Dad. She's a nigger lover, her dad told her so, so we're like boyfriend and girlfriend!"

Derrick looked at his son, appalled at the child's eight-year-old innocence. "That's a horrible thing for her to say to you, son. Just—" He bit back his anger, but Deyshawn could tell he was furious. "Just go find Marlin or whoever. Stay away from those damn crackers."

Deyshawn didn't understand why he couldn't have crackers, but he preferred cookies, anyway. He was starting to realize there were lots of things he didn't understand, even about his friend, Naiomi. He smiled, knowing his dad would teach him everything he needed to know, though; his daddy was smart! With this thought, he headed down the block to Marlin and Kyle's house.

Naiomi
"Daddy? Why doesn't God love Catholics?"

Adam looked at his daughter several moments before answering. "Why—what makes you think God doesn't love Catholics, sweetie?"

"Milne said she doesn't want to go to VBS because the Catholic Spics—

Adam choked on his beer. "Mexicans! Jesus, Naiomi, they're Mexicans!"

"But you said—"

"Mexicans, honey." Adam shook his head.

"Well, Milne said the Catholic Mexicans don't worship Jesus because they worship Mary and they shouldn't go to VBS with us and she doesn't want to go cos they're there." She tilted her small, inquisitive face. "Does God hate all spi—Mexicans, or just the Catholic ones?"

Adam blinked several times. "God loves everybody, Naiomi. Don't ever doubt it. And we need to love everyone, too. Just like it says in the bible we read at VBS."

"But I thought—"

"Catholics, Mexicans, blacks, whites, women, men: everybody, sweetheart. Okay? Don't listen to what Milne said about it; I'll talk to her. Now go on and play outside in the back yard while it's still light out." The little girl smiled at her daddy's wisdom, turned around, and skipped out the back door. Where do these kids come up with this stuff?, he thought.

Milne
"Gross! I won't go, and you can't make me. Freedom of religion, Dad! I don't want to go with—" She saw a warning look come over Adam's face, and she finished lamely, "—'them.'"

"Milne," he began, "Frida doesn't have a problem with it; why do you? I don't understand. You're twins for chrissakes, how is it good for one of you and bad for the other?" The exasperation in his voice was tinged with frustration.

"She's dating a Jew, Dad! I don't even know why she's allowed to go to VBS!"

"God damn it, Milne, that's enough! If you want to stay home all summer like a lazy...heathen, then fine. You don't have to go. It will be so much fun for me to explain to the rest of the faculty that the youth minister's daughter doesn't want to go to vacation bible school for young adults because of who her sister is dating!" His voice rose to a shout as his frustration got the better of him.

Milne looked at him, angry tears in her eyes. "Do you want me there to worship God, Dad? Or to make you look good?" Before Adam could respond, she turned and ran up to her room.

Linda
"Maybe we should start looking for a different neighborhood, Adam. This isn't the same place we moved into when Frida and Milne were born, we both know that. Maybe all three of the girls would be able to find friends they had more in common with; and I'm sure the church would sponsor your ministry wherever we land." She paused. "Can we just think about it?"

Adam nodded, really paying attention to his wife, for a change. "Not a bad idea, honey."

-=*=-

Naiomi
"I don't like it here, Daddy."

"Why not, sugarplum?"

They were standing in front of the tasteful split level they had moved into three months ago in the nice upper-middle-class subdivision of Grand Oaks. Adam was raking the leaves under one of those oaks.

Before Naiomi could answer, their next door neighbor, Tom, pulled up in his driveway. Chuckling, he called out the window of his car, "Hey, Adam! When you get a minute, I got a good one for ya!"

Milne looked over at the car as it pulled into the garage, then looked down at the groud with a pout. Her voice was small in the crisp autumn air. "I miss the—I miss Rosa and her family. And Deyshawn's. It's boring here; it's all the same, Daddy. Everything's always the same."