Black Donald

Written Tuesday, October 21, 2008

It was dark. The moon light scattered in the tree branches as Jeff and Rob made their way down a back country road that their 1989 Chevy pick-up was guiding them down - a road they've traveled so many times before.

Only this time it was different.

"Well folks," a voice crackled on the radio, "it looks like we got ourselves that '20 Year Storm,' so stay inside, hunker down and let some good ole southern boys make ya'll feel at ease."

Lynyrd Skynyrd's "That Smell," blared from the speakers in the rusty cab of the truck.

The rain came down in buckets, no lightning but enough thunder to set off the dog barks.

Jeff and Rob weren't you're average buddies. Jeff, short for Jefferson Alpeck, and Rob, short for Robert L. Johnson were named after southern Civil War heroes – some 240 years after the war – and just like those that fought in the Civil War, Jeff and Rob upheld the belief that they were created better than others. They were part of the brethren known as the Ku Klux Klan.

In most areas they'd be wanted for murder, but here, they're just some of the "good ole boys." They've never been arrested or questioned for the murder they committed some four years ago.

Her name was Abigail Reed, a 14-year-old honor student. Her crime – being black.

Abigail was walking home one late summer evening from her cousin's house when Jeff and Rob drove up on her.

Reeking of moonshine, they began harassing her as their trusty pick-up truck crept along side her now quickening pace.

She'd seen this truck before. Over two hills and across Johnson's Bridge, in the corn fields where they burned crosses. She's seen the two ghost men before, too. But, not their faces. She remembered what her mother told her; repeatedly.

"Don't look at 'em! Don't you talk to 'em! You just get on home where you'll be safe!"

"Whatcha doin?" the men in the white hoods asked her.

She didn't dignify them with a response, but instead, began jogging towards her destination – home.

"Hey! I'm talkin' to ya! Ya fuckin' bitch!" Rob screamed out.

Abigail began a full sprint along the road while Rob's foot hardly pressed on the gas pedal. Within a matter of seconds Rob stomped on his gas pedal and cut off the would be path of Abigail. Dust kicked up the setting sun sky. To the average person seeing this, they would've assumed a truck had blown out a tire.

Screaming, she came to a stop. But, like most areas in their rural county, there was no one to hear her screams.

The two ghosts jumped out of the cab of the truck and swooped up a kicking and feisty Abigail.

"AH! Bitch scratched me!" Jeff hollered, and with that, slapped her with his big heavy farming hand. It hit Abigail with a force she's never felt. The impact caused her to hit her head on the side of the truck bed, knocking her out.

They tossed her motionless body into the bed and hopped into the cab. They drove for what felt like hours, never removing their masks - their protection.

The truck finally rolled to a stop in the middle of a field coming to the start of a small forest. Getting out, they grabbed Abigail's body, which remained motionless.

Jeff got out of the passenger's side, lifting up his hood, and took a big swig out of the bottle, and grabbed the rope sitting in the middle of the cab. Rob hopped out of the driver's side and grabbed the limp body that had only moved around due to his fanatic driving.

He tossed her over his shoulder like a potato sack as the three of them made their way into the woods. They stumbled some 20 feet in before giving up and throwing her down against a tree.

"Gimme that rope!" hollered Rob, as he snatched the rope from Jeff's hands like a dog feeding on table scraps at a steak house. Jeff walked around to the other side of the tree and waited for Rob to pass the rope around.

Within a matter of moments, Abigail Reed was tied up and still unconscious.

"Let the fuggin' varmints eat 'er," Rob growled out.
"Shoot, ain't no one gonna miss her anyway," said Jeff, agreeing with Rob's thought to keep her there.

They turned and took their time getting back to the truck, but once there, realized something was wrong.

"Where the fugg is your mask, ya dumbshit?" Rob questioned.
"Ah fuck!" Jeff said, grabbing at his head, realizing that it had fallen off.
"Lets go back. You know you's a retard right?" Rob joked towards his disgruntled friend.
"Yeah, yeah, shut up!" Jeff snarled back.

Coming back to the tree where they left Abigail, Jeff saw his hood. He stepped over, bent down and picked it up. While doing so, keeping his eyes glued on Abigail.

She stared right back, a look of questioning horror.

She knew the man.

Jefferson Alpeck.

He lived just around the corner from her.

"Oh fuck! She's up! Oh fuck, she's up!" Jeff hollered.
"WHAT?" yelled Rob.
"She looked right at me. SHE' FUCKIN' AWAKE"
"Sun-uh-bitch. Looks like we gots-ta do somethin' here."
"Yeah, yeah we do," Jeff said with a eyebrow raise and a devilish smirk across his face.

He bent down and with one hand, gripped her neck while looking her right in the eye, the moonlight providing the only light he needed to make sure he did the job.

"She ain't gonna tell no one," Jeff said reassuringly as her body went limp and stopped breathing.
"You a sick sun-uh-bitch," Rob laughingly replied.
"Yeah," Jeff sheepishly replied, keeping his head down like a five-year-old getting in trouble for spilling a glass of water.
"Suppose we better get the fugg outta here."

Jeff bent down and grabbed his mask and the two made their way back to the truck.

The rain was pouring as the two made their way down the road, the same one they traveled down with Abigail Reed in their truck bed, four years ago. This time though, they were on their way to a rally as they could see the orange in the sky in the distance, even with the rain coming down like it does only once every 20-years.

Abigail Reed was the last thing on their mind as they saw headlights coming at them. Not thinking anything of it, Jeff cut to the middle of the road, a little game of chicken.

Just as doing so, he saw a girl run across the road.

Abigail Reed stopped in the headlights, starring at Jeff and Rob.

"What the?" Rob slowly let out as Jeff cut the wheel hard to the right, trying to avoid the ghost in their past.

The truck came to a halt in a row of trees on the right side of the road.

The headlights of the car slowed and came to a stop.

A black man, wearing a black suit, black tie, black shoes, a white shirt, and a black fedora stepped out of the driver's seat of his black 1972 Cadillac DeVille. A well dressed man and a very nice car for such a poor area.

He walked slowly towards the disaster.

"Oh my," he said aloud as he came to the body of Rob, laying in the road, face down. He was thrown out of the windshield of the truck, "I don't think you made it."

He made his way to the truck. Jeff, sitting there, his head smashed against the steering wheel, but still hanging on for life.

"Well Jefferson, looks like you've got yourself a problem," said the man, calmly. Too calmly for such an accident as this.
"Please mister, please save me," Jeff cried out. Tears rolling down his cheeks, next to the blood that came from his forehead on down. "Did ya see that girl? Oh, no, did ya see her?"
"No, there's no girl out here but, I suppose you'll have to do me a favor."
"Yeah, yeah, OK, please just. OH GOD!" Jeff bellowed out.
"I'm not God," laughed the man in the black suit, "but, I do reckon it's time for you to be a changin' your ways now, son."
Jeff nodded then fell into unconsciousness.
The man pulled Jeff from the wreckage and carried him over to his car and put him into the back seat.
Drifting in and out of consciousness, Jeff asked the man questions.

"Who are you?"
"The name is Donald. They call me Black Donald, on account of me always wearing black suits," said Donald, the man in the black suit.
His head pounding, Jeff went back under.

He came back a few minutes later.
"Where are you takin' me?"
"Why, to the hospital, son. You need some help."
"No, you can't take me there, I'm wearing my robe," Jeff cried out. "They'll see me and know who I am."
"Yes, but that's not who you are anymore. Now get some rest, you need it."

The black DeVille pulled up to the county hospital and the car came to a stop. There was no one around. Donald stepped out of the car, and walked around, the rain still pouring down as lightning and thunder rolled through the black night. He opened the door and woke Jeff.

"Let's go, we're here and you'll be alright."
Jeff didn't respond but the look of thanks in his eyes was enough for the man in the black suit.

Donald helped Jeff up the ramp into the hospital. The nurse had her head down as the two men walked in. A black man and a white man wearing the cloak of the KKK. A site that surely would've given the young nurse a heart attack.

He sat Jeff down in a chair, turned and headed for the door.
"Wait, how can I thank you?" Jeff asked.
"You'll see, eventually," said the man in the black suit as he walked back out the door.

The nurse looking up to see Jeff, blood soaked, screamed. She never heard the two men come in, nor saw them.

Hearing the nurse's scream, the night shift doctor and several nurses came running into the waiting room.

Working quickly, they got the man on a gurney, and checking his vitals. It looked like he was going to make it.

Jeff awoke the next day, his mother by his side.

"Jeff, how ya doin'?" Sheriff John Dallenck asked.
"I'm alright Sheriff," Jeff said, calmly, thankfully.
"Oh just leave my baby alone!" Jeff's mother, Virginia, snipped at Dallenck.
"Sorry ma'am. But, you know I've gotta ask questions," Sheriff John replied woefully. "Now Jeff, can you tell me what happened?"
Virginia squeeze Jeff's hand and gave him a motherly scorn that only Jeff could appreciate at this time. She'd already heard the story when Jeff woke up some two hours earlier after being told that Rob didn't make it. He's already mourned for his friend.
"It's alright mama," Jeff reassured her.

"Huh, dunno if you'll believe me, Sheriff, but I was saved," Jeff started off, as Dallenck looked puzzeled. "Yeah," Jeff laughed awkwardly, "Rob and I were drivin' and I saw a deer in the road and cut my wheel, after that, I don't remember much. A black guy in a suit brought me to the hospital."

"A black man? You were saved by a black man?" Sheriff Dallenck laughed heartily. "I just as much woulda rather died there!"
"Well I'm here and I'm breathin'! So you shut the fuck up Johnny!" Jeff angerliy retorted.
"Well, then boy, how much did you drink last night?" the Sheriff questioned quickly.
"Enough...." Jeff trailed off, realizing now what might be.
"I reckon you watch tounge then, you got it?" Dallenck said, calmingly. "Now, do you remember this man's name?"
"No, no. Just, he wore, just what he wore. A black suit," Jeff responded using what was left of his memory of last night.
"Anything else, Jefferson?" Virginia pushed.
"YEAH! He was an angel. He saved my life," Jeff boasted proudly.

Sheriff Dallenck looked puzzled, his jaw agape. He blinked twice, as though trying to compute what Jeff just said.

"Well then, I guess we don't need to do a search for him, do we?" Dallenck asked, sarcastically.
"I dunno, Sheriff," Jeff said, sensing Sheriff Dallenck's disbelief. "I suppose I should get some rest."

With that, Sheriff Dallenck turned and walked out of the hospital room. Virginia gave Jeff a kiss on the head and made her way to the door as well. Jeff closed his eyes and went to sleep.

The events over the years that passed showed that Jefferson Alpeck was a changed man. He discontinued his pledge with the Ku Klux Klan. He became a pastor at the local church, preaching togetherness and brotherhood. He worked with the poor in the area, working to get them jobs, living quarters - sometimes his own couch, much to the dismay of his wife - and spending time with them.

He had two children, two boys. The life that he had up until he was 23 was forever gone.

It was a warm Sunday evening in the late-Southern summer. Jeff was inside, getting the kids cleaned up for the picnic dinner they were hosting for members of the church later that night.

A knock on the door sent Jeff's wife, Amy, scurrying from the living room to answer the door, thinking that some of the guests were early. As she swung the door open, she saw a man she'd never seen before.

He stood about 5'10" and 170 pounds, much smaller than Jeff's 6'4" and 245 pound frame. He was a black man wearing a black suit, black tie, a white shirt, black shoes and a black fedora.

"Hi, you must be Amy, Jeff's wife?" the man asked.
"Yes, I am, how can I help you?" she responded.
"Well, could ya do me a favor and let him know that his old friend Donald is hear," the man said, with a smile on his face. "I've come for his repayment."
"Sure, just a minute...." she trailed off as she made her way to the kitchen.

"Jeff, hon, you've got a visitor, a man named Donald," Amy said.
Jeff's eyes went wide, hearing the name of the man he hadn't seen in 20 years, "Oh my!"
"What sweetie, are you OK," Amy asked, seeing Jeff turn a pale white.
"That's my angel," Jeff gulped down. Amy had heard the story multiple times; it was a staple in Jeff's sermon.

Jeff quickly darted to the front door to see the man he wished to lay eyes on. He opened the door, and Donald looked as though he hadn't aged a day in those 20 years.

"Jeff, mind if we have a word?" Donald asked.
"No, not at all, won't you please come inside my home?" Jeff offered.
"It's quite alright, if you'll just step outside," Donald countered.
Jeff didn't ask, but rather stepped outside. There, in the drive way was the Cadillac DeVille, with someone in the passenger seat. "Why don't you invite your friend in?"
"He's not my friend, Jeff, he's yours."
"Well, who is he?" Jeff asked, unsure of who could be with the man in the black suit.
"We'll find out soon enough, Jefferson."

The man in the black suit smirked, and the back door of the car opened and a young girl no older than 15 or so, went running across Jeff's front yard, wearing a smile that haunted Jeff.

Abigail Reed was back.

Chills ran all over Jefferson's body as he watched her run off into the setting sun. Gone, into the dusk.

He looked back over to the car, and began to recognize the man in the passenger's seat. His best friend was dead - 20 years now, yet, there he was, riding with the man in the black suit.

"Oh my lord," Jeff mumbled.
"Your lord ain't going to save you son. Now, let's get in and we'll be on our way," said the man in the black suit.
"There must be something I can give you, something I can do" Jeff pleaded.
"I'm not in the business of making second deals."
"Second deals?" Jeff questioned.
"You heard me," the man in the black suit clearly becoming angry, said.
"Now wait! Wait just a gosh darn minute!" Jeff yelled, nervously.
"Come hell or high water, you're getting in that car with me. And wouldn't you know it, there's a storm a brewin'."

Just a few moments later, Amy came out the front door to see what the problem was.

"Jeff, is there a problem," she asked as she stepped outside to see her husband gone, "JEFF!"

Off in the distance she saw the taillights of the black DeVille, driving into the sunset as the rain began to fall.