Status: short story
Colour Blind
two
One day in summer I’d asked Pa if he would take us out into town for ice cream. At first he’d refused, but after a while of begging he’d eventually agreed. “Time for you to learn your own lesson, Armand,” he’d said with a slight frown. “ I ain’t gonna be around much longer to protect you.”
When we’d made it into town I was excited, and I’d raced all the way down to the ice cream shop without stopping. “Hurry up, Lyle!” I’d shouted. When I glanced back to see where he was he was walking a slight distance behind my Pa, staring at the ground with his hands tugging at his clothes.
“Why’re they all looking at us?” I’d asked when Pa had caught up. And they were. Every single person we passed seemed to stare us down; eyeing my Pa and I before their eyes would trail over to Lyle.
“Ain’t got nothing better to do,” Pa had said, before he’d pushed open the door to the shop and stepped inside.
I’d ordered my ice cream straight away — a double scoop with chocolate and vanilla. The lady had given me a smile, even letting me have sprinkles for free on top.
When it was Lyle’s turn she’d given him a look before turning away. “Ain’t no place for your type,” she’d said roughly. “Beat it.”
I started to speak back at her when my Pa shushed me, grabbing me by the collar and pulling me outside. “Hey!” I’d protested, batting his hand away with my fingers. “We ain’t got Lyle his ice cream!”
Pa gave me a fierce look, telling me sternly to be quiet as we began to walk away. People stared the whole way, and I began to grown angry at the looks that they were giving us. “Quit it!” I’d shouted loudly, startling a few of them.
Pa had grabbed me by the collar again and dragged me away, back towards where his truck was sitting across the road. “Mind your mouth, Armand Doyle,” he’d ordered, giving me a fierce look. “You can’t go ‘round talkin’ to people like that.”
I’d pouted angrily. “They were lookin’ at us.”
Pa had slapped the back of my head. “There ain’t nothing wrong with just looking.”
Eventually we began to drive back home, and I’d glanced at Lyle to find him staring out the window sadly. “That lady was awful mean,” I’d told him, and he’d turned to look at me with wide eyes. “Ain’t nothing wrong with you, Lyle Webber,” I’d promised him again.
He let out a sigh and turned away, glancing out the window again. “Hey,” I’d prodded, tapping him on the shoulder. “You want the vanilla side? I don’t like it all that much.”
Lyle pulled his eyes away from the window to look at me with a slight smile. “Okay,” he’d said quietly.
I could feel Pa’s eyes on me in the rear view mirror the whole drive home.
“The world ain’t gonna like you two,” Pa had said on his deathbed. When I asked why, he’d responded with a slight frown. “Whole world’s gone colourblind.”
I was eighteen by then, and Lyle was just off twenty. Pa had been sick for a few years, having maids watch over the house all day as he stayed in bed. The maids had been of the same skin colour as Lyle’s, and they were awful nice to both of us. I liked them for that.
“Don’t act dumb, Armand Doyle,” he had added, giving me a look. “You know what the world’s like by now.”
And I did. I was old enough to know why they didn’t like Lyle; why they wouldn’t serve him at the store or let him ride the bus. I was old enough to understand the way the world was and I didn’t like it; didn’t like that they said that we were different, he and I, that we weren’t the same.
Pa had died a few days later. For a while I hadn’t known how to go on, and I don’t think Lyle knew either. “Ain’t nothing left but you and me now, Lyle,” I’d told him one night as we sat outside. I’d placed my head on his shoulder again and I was leaning into his side, trying not to think of the fact that Pa was gone and that my words were the truth.
“Guess it could be a lot worse,” he’d said after a while. When I’d shoved him he had snickered, shoving me back and rolling over, jumping up onto his feet and running away. And I had chased him, just like I always did, chasing after normality and my childhood and Lyle all at once. And the whole while I could feel the ghost of my Pa looking down at me, watching me run about, all the while with that same look on his face.
“World ain’t gonna like you two,” I could feel him repeating to me.
But right then I didn’t particularly like the world either.
When we’d made it into town I was excited, and I’d raced all the way down to the ice cream shop without stopping. “Hurry up, Lyle!” I’d shouted. When I glanced back to see where he was he was walking a slight distance behind my Pa, staring at the ground with his hands tugging at his clothes.
“Why’re they all looking at us?” I’d asked when Pa had caught up. And they were. Every single person we passed seemed to stare us down; eyeing my Pa and I before their eyes would trail over to Lyle.
“Ain’t got nothing better to do,” Pa had said, before he’d pushed open the door to the shop and stepped inside.
I’d ordered my ice cream straight away — a double scoop with chocolate and vanilla. The lady had given me a smile, even letting me have sprinkles for free on top.
When it was Lyle’s turn she’d given him a look before turning away. “Ain’t no place for your type,” she’d said roughly. “Beat it.”
I started to speak back at her when my Pa shushed me, grabbing me by the collar and pulling me outside. “Hey!” I’d protested, batting his hand away with my fingers. “We ain’t got Lyle his ice cream!”
Pa gave me a fierce look, telling me sternly to be quiet as we began to walk away. People stared the whole way, and I began to grown angry at the looks that they were giving us. “Quit it!” I’d shouted loudly, startling a few of them.
Pa had grabbed me by the collar again and dragged me away, back towards where his truck was sitting across the road. “Mind your mouth, Armand Doyle,” he’d ordered, giving me a fierce look. “You can’t go ‘round talkin’ to people like that.”
I’d pouted angrily. “They were lookin’ at us.”
Pa had slapped the back of my head. “There ain’t nothing wrong with just looking.”
Eventually we began to drive back home, and I’d glanced at Lyle to find him staring out the window sadly. “That lady was awful mean,” I’d told him, and he’d turned to look at me with wide eyes. “Ain’t nothing wrong with you, Lyle Webber,” I’d promised him again.
He let out a sigh and turned away, glancing out the window again. “Hey,” I’d prodded, tapping him on the shoulder. “You want the vanilla side? I don’t like it all that much.”
Lyle pulled his eyes away from the window to look at me with a slight smile. “Okay,” he’d said quietly.
I could feel Pa’s eyes on me in the rear view mirror the whole drive home.
———————————————————
“The world ain’t gonna like you two,” Pa had said on his deathbed. When I asked why, he’d responded with a slight frown. “Whole world’s gone colourblind.”
I was eighteen by then, and Lyle was just off twenty. Pa had been sick for a few years, having maids watch over the house all day as he stayed in bed. The maids had been of the same skin colour as Lyle’s, and they were awful nice to both of us. I liked them for that.
“Don’t act dumb, Armand Doyle,” he had added, giving me a look. “You know what the world’s like by now.”
And I did. I was old enough to know why they didn’t like Lyle; why they wouldn’t serve him at the store or let him ride the bus. I was old enough to understand the way the world was and I didn’t like it; didn’t like that they said that we were different, he and I, that we weren’t the same.
Pa had died a few days later. For a while I hadn’t known how to go on, and I don’t think Lyle knew either. “Ain’t nothing left but you and me now, Lyle,” I’d told him one night as we sat outside. I’d placed my head on his shoulder again and I was leaning into his side, trying not to think of the fact that Pa was gone and that my words were the truth.
“Guess it could be a lot worse,” he’d said after a while. When I’d shoved him he had snickered, shoving me back and rolling over, jumping up onto his feet and running away. And I had chased him, just like I always did, chasing after normality and my childhood and Lyle all at once. And the whole while I could feel the ghost of my Pa looking down at me, watching me run about, all the while with that same look on his face.
“World ain’t gonna like you two,” I could feel him repeating to me.
But right then I didn’t particularly like the world either.