Live Your Own Life, Not Theirs

By Michael L. Tyler

G, a young Black woman, loses her beloved father and is looking forward to 2020 being a much better year. Her new boyfriend, Jimmy, a young nerdy white man, provides much comfort and support as she faces and grieves her deep loss. However, both of their families are not fond of their relationship-and that's putting it mildly. And race is only on

• Language: English
• Publisher: Palmetto Publishing
• Release date: Apr 3, 2023
• ISBN: 9798822910843

Michael L. Tyler

From early childhood, Michael L. Tyler, who has cerebral palsy, found pleasure in reading. To most people, a picnic is a picnic, but to a reader, it is the smell of fresh-cut grass, the sight of various colorful flowers, the sound of birds chirping and bees buzzing, the activity of ants doing their own thing, and the beauty of the surrounding trees of various ages and types. As Michael says, all of your senses come alive if you surrender to the writer's descriptions.

Book preview

Happy Birthday

"C

an you pass the ketchup please, Sis?" Jimmy outstretched his hand and grabbed the bottle being handed to him by his big sister, Suzi.

Suzi smirked and said with a hint of sarcasm, You eat ketchup on a hot dog? What is this? She paused for effect. Russia?

No, just Petite, Georgia, population a few dozen, I think, Jimmy responded with his own smirk.

What’s wrong with Georgia? What’s wrong with this part of Georgia? You grew up here, didn’t you? Are you above us now? Are you better than our redneck part of Georgia? Suzi was always trying to put Jimmy in his place, but at the same time, all she really wanted was to trade places with him. Living on this farm was the dullest and most mind-numbing thing she could imagine.

Jimmy interrupted her before she could go on with her monologue about how everyone thought Jimmy believed he was just too good for these here parts now that he was in college. Give it a rest, Suzi. You know damn well I don’t think that, so why do you keep saying it every time you get within ten feet of me?

So you aren’t better than us?

No. I am different than you. I don’t agree with some of the things I hear in this town or on this farm, but I don’t think any— He just stopped and took a slow, deep breath and let it out even slower. Jimmy did not want to go down this rabbit hole with her again, but so many of his siblings, and his family in general, made him run down this hole, and it seemed they found delight in doing so. It infuriated him. He had been taught to love your family no matter what, but it just seemed to get harder and harder every time they got together. It was exhausting, exasperating, and miserably depressing knowing where this road always ended.

Different? Or better?

Stop it, Suzi. Just stop being a jerk!

OK fine, little brother. It’s stopped. You are not better than us, and no one thinks you are. So anything new going on with you nowadays? She truly did not feel any ill will toward her little brother. She actually liked the little jerk, but for some reason, she also wanted to smush his face in the dirt when she got near him.

Jimmy didn’t want to say anything at all; he just wanted her to go away, truthfully, but reluctantly he said, I have a new job, I have a new girlfriend, and I am helping some of the kids at the boys’ club near my house. He took a deep breath again and let it out slowly. That’s about it. How about you?

No, no, no, little brother. How come I don’t know about any of this? How come I am just hearing about it now?

I am not sure, Sis. Maybe because you live here and I don’t, or—probably—because you never call me or text me, I guess. He took another bite of his hot dog smothered in relish and ketchup while looking at her with eyes that were asking, Why don’t you call? His choice of hot dog condiments might have been un-American to her, but he thought it was delicious.

So what’s her name? What does she do?

Don’t you want to know what I am doing at my new job?

You are a nerd, so it’s fixing computers, building computers, or putting apps on computers. It’s one of the three, right?

Jimmy wanted to say she was totally wrong, but at times, it was all three. Yep, you know me so well.

So what’s her name, li’l man?

Georgette, but everyone calls her G.

G? Hmm, that is easy to remember, I guess. What does she do?

She works at the same tech company I do, in the HR department. She also goes to the same school I do, but she is going for political science, so I hardly ever see her on campus. The short version is, one day we were eating lunch at work and laughing, and I asked her out. It was almost a slip of the tongue. I thought she was politely going to say no, but she said yes. I almost fell over. He was surprised at how much he wanted to talk about this girl. He wanted someone or everyone to know how happy he was, even if it was his sister, the vampire of positive energy. He knew in his heart that he really liked this girl a lot, a whole lot, and he wanted the whole world to know it.

So how long have you been going out? How come I haven’t met her?

Um, first question, about three months, and secondly—he paused and thought for a second about why no one knew about G yet, and he just figured the truth was the best way to go—and secondly, because she is black is why.

His sister Suzi let her mouth fall open as if she had just heard the most scandalous news of her life. OK, OK, so she is black—big deal. Suzi thought her recovery was excellent, even though she wanted to say a whole lot more a whole lot louder to her little brother, but she thought it would just make him jump on his liberal soapbox, so she fell silent.

Yep, she is black, and I am white, and I am definitely OK with it one hundred percent, as is she. Jimmy knew what his coldhearted sister was about to say: Why not a white girl? Why not someone who won’t embarrass the family, someone who isn’t just trying to find a guy to support her and her babies so she does not have to work? The hours-long soliloquy was playing in his head as she just looked, seemingly searching for the right words.

Do Mom and Dad know?

No one knows, except maybe a few people from school. We are just keeping it super casual for now.

Suzi could not help herself. She had to say what she was thinking. It was just her way—aggressive and obnoxious, as most would say, and did. You know Momma ain’t going to babysit no black babies.

That is fine. I don’t really want anyone teaching my kids that your skin color is what defines you. I would prefer that they learn that their heart and their intellect and their empathy define them, not the pigment of their skin.

Suzi gave a loud, sarcastic laugh. Really, little brother? Are you ever going to come back to planet Earth and reality? We are just despicable people, I guess, and you are right and we are wrong?

Pretty much.

Grow up. You know how hard a black-and-white couple has it in this world?

Jimmy let out a deep sigh. A sigh of disgust and one mostly of pity. Suzi, that is the world you have chosen to live in. I choose not to live in that world. I see a beautiful black girl that loves to laugh and loves to love and mostly loves to be kind. I couldn’t ask for a better person in my life, Sis, and one of these days, I hope you find that. He wished his sister could be happy for him, but it just wasn’t meant to be.

Suzi slid down the bench until she was only inches away from her little brother. She wanted to say this with the merit it deserved. Me and Joey are just fine, and we love each other just fine.

Jimmy knew bullshit when he heard it, and what she was trying to spread was some grade-A cow pie. OK, Sis, you don’t have to sit in my lap to tell me that you and Joey are the perfect couple. He leaned a bit away from his sister so as not to get a contact high from the liquor that was emanating from her cracked lips. He could tell she was a bit snockered, but he always tried to make her feel like he was the one in the family who did more than just tolerate her, even though they both knew better. Her drinking and loud, unbearable ways had gotten her ostracized by everyone except her leech of a boyfriend, Joey.

At that point he saw his two brothers come over and lean on the picnic table at the far end; his oldest brother, Donald, said quizzically, What’s all the whispering about over here?

Suzi sprang into action. He was telling me all about his new black girlfriend and how she is too good for us to meet.

Jimmy jumped in. Suzi, you are drunk, and you know I didn’t say anything like that, so stop with the drama for once in your life.

Suzi’s words were a bit slurred, but she was able to get out, So why haven’t we met this girlfriend of yours, Jimmy?

"It’s still new; I don’t know what is going to happen, and I don’t want to scare her off by having her meet the family is all, Jimmy said, adding air quotes around family."

The middle brother, David, chimed in, But you would let her meet us, though, right, if it wasn’t new? You aren’t ashamed of us or anything, are you? I know you live in Atlanta now and all, and we live in the sticks, but you aren’t embarrassed by us in any way, are you, little brother? He paused for a second or two and then threw in one more thing. Is she Obama black or Nigerian black?

David, you can be such a jerk sometimes. I just came here to wish Pop a happy birthday, and you always have to put me on the spot about something until a fight starts, pissing everyone off. Why don’t you stop being such an instigator and just listen to a conversation instead of trying to stir it up for your own amusement? How ’bout that? Can you do that for once? He wished he had never brought her up.

All three looked on with shock and confusion. No one was used to the firing-back Jimmy. They were all used to the meek-and-take-it-with-a-bowed-head Jimmy. Don spoke up before Suzi or David could lay into him any further. He was not a big fan of his little liberal brother, who walked around like he was better than them, like he walked on water, but in this case, he was right. David, go get me a beer from the cooler way over there. He pointed to the cooler near the back porch. Don watched as his younger brother reluctantly took his foot from the picnic table bench and headed off like a whipped pup. OK, Jimmy, you have my attention. Why a black girl?

Jimmy was speechless at the blatant racism but not really surprised. Well, to be honest, all the white girls in Atlanta turned me down, so I went to the Mexicans, then the Puerto Ricans, then the American Indians, and eventually made my way to the blacks. He wanted to say more but figured that was enough.

Don looked at him and stared hard, but after about ten seconds or so, Don let out a hearty laugh. Not a fake laugh, but a real laugh, as though he had just heard the funniest joke in his life. Jimmy, that was funny—I mean, that was really good. Why didn’t you tell me you were funny?

You never asked? Jimmy shrugged his shoulders, telling his big brother it had to be the reason; nothing else made sense.

Donald busted out again. OK then, as long as there is a logical reason, I am fine with it. I don’t care if you are dating a black girl. If I had a daughter, I would not want her to date a black guy, but I think it’s OK for a white guy to date a black girl. I don’t see anything wrong with it. He said the last part looking over at Suzi.

What’s wrong with a black guy and a white girl? Jimmy of course knew the answer but wanted to hear it drip from his racist lips.

They don’t treat their women as good as we do, that’s all. It’s a fact—you see it on the news all the time.

Jimmy was interrupted before he could reply to that insanely racist comment and tell his brother the only reason he was OK with his relationship was because Don, like so many other white guys, had the fever for the flavor of a Pringle. He wanted the experience of lying with a jungle woman.

Jimmy’s mother stopped by to see what the matter was, and one did not talk when she was about to speak. It just wasn’t done. What is all the ruckus over here, and why does David look like he is about to trip over his lower lip?

Suzi blurted out, David is a big baby, and we are talking about Jimmy’s new girlfriend. His new black girlfriend. Suzi was almost giddy with herself for outing her little brother. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she lived for the theater.

Emma looked down and just smiled at her drunk daughter. She wanted to slap the snot right out of her and watch her hit the hard ground, but instead the old woman just smiled. Thank you, dear. Now just let the grown-ups who aren’t shit-faced talk for a while, please. This is your father’s birthday, and if any of you jackasses ruin it for him, I will personally tan each and every one of your hides. Are we clear? She turned and looked at each of them individually.

They all took turns nodding their heads in agreement. Suzi was about to say something until Emma put her index finger on her own lips to tell her dipshit of a daughter to clam up before she put a fist down that martini glass that she called a mouth.

Emma came over and sat with her oversize rump on the edge of the picnic table near where her baby boy was sitting. She might not have agreed with all his newfound thinking and all his technology, and maybe she couldn’t understand his iPhone, but she sure could understand why whites married whites and blacks married blacks. She was quite aware that he thought of her as a one-dimensional character that only thought in racist terms and according to every other hillbilly stereotype, but it was just the order of things, and whether he understood it or not, it was a fact. She cleared her throat.

How long you been dating this girl, boy? What is her name? What does she do for a living? She motioned to Jimmy with her hand to stop looking like a dead fish and answer her questions.

He looked at his mother, then his siblings, and then back at his mother. Um, well, uh, her name is Georgette, but everyone calls her G because she thinks Georgette is an old-fashioned name. She works at the same company I do. She works in the human resources department as a counselor of sorts, I guess. She helps people fill out forms or get their payroll deductions straightened out—you know, that kind of stuff.

Emma cut him off. She had heard enough five-dollar words to last her for the rest of the day. How long have you been dating her?

He lied through his teeth. Almost three months, off and on. In reality it had been almost six months, and they had practically been living together for the past month.

Do you think it’s been long enough for us to meet the person my baby is spending so much time with? I think three months is just the perfect amount of time. Don’t you think?

Jimmy was very cognizant that very few people said no to Momma. Neither his father nor his siblings thought it was a good idea to get on her bad side, so everyone tried their best to keep her happy. Well, I guess I could ask her. I can’t tell you that she will say yes, because we have only dated a handful of times, but I guess I could ask her.

Great. It’s settled, then. You will talk to—G, is it? And I will tell your father that your girlfriend will be having dinner with us, and we can get to know her and she can get to know us. It’s how it’s done around here. She slid her rump from the edge of the table and resumed heading back over to the birthday boy.

Donald and Suzi also got up from the picnic table and headed over to their father, who was sitting in his lawn chair. They knew that Momma was going to put an end to this crap once and for all, and they both knew, as did their little brother, that they while Jimmy and G might come to dinner as a couple, by the time they left, that woman was going to want absolutely nothing to do with Jimmy and his family, and that was just what Momma wanted.

Jimmy watched as everyone retreated and left him there to ponder what that dinner was going to be like. He was really hoping that this year would be over with already and that 2020 would be so much better. He would be graduating and finally go out and be somebody.

Jimmy ate his hot dog and let his mind drift from one thing to another. It appeared people were devolving more and more by the day, or by the hour. It appeared to him that his whole damn world was drinking the Kool-Aid. Some of them he had known most of his life. They seemed to have changed in front of him. Was it all for a few high-fives and pats on the back? Was it so they could belong to something and not be alone? It appeared to Jimmy as though friends and family just wanted to belong to a tribe, any tribe, even if it was a hateful one. It made him sad to watch it unfold.

He had no delusions that Democrats or even liberals in general did everything right and Republicans did everything wrong. He hated to think he even had a side. He knew Democrats did many things he thought were reckless and inefficient. If he had a side at all, it was a side that helped people when they were at their lowest, no matter their color or place of origin. If that was a handout, then his hand was out.

When he was old enough to vote, he chose not to. None of the candidates seemed like someone who was truthfully going to help him or his family. The odd thing was that his family believed that Republicans had their back, but the facts showed that they had the backs of companies and not the common man.

He listened to his parents for years about politics, but one thing they kept leaving out was why they deserved help and no one else did. He found it odd that his parents deserved help from the government because of the drought, but when blacks got help, it was a Democratic handout. He could not understand the distinction.

So 2020 had to be better than these past few years had been, he thought. He had to believe it was true; the alternative was awful. He tried to not be one of those liberals who thought all Republicans were evil. He knew quite a few of them who didn’t want to take the country back to an era where certain people, certain genders, knew their place. He knew many that were good, honest, and decent people. He did not think either side was accurate about the other. He tried not to think of his family as the enemy, but the atmosphere around here sometimes seemed to be less forgiving to his liberal-leaning way of thinking—increasingly so with each visit.

He took a deep breath and looked around. This place was so peaceful. It was a place he had found quiet and serene when he was a kid. It did not have that look now, though. He found anger wherever he looked. He wondered if these were old ghosts that he just never realized existed before or if it was just his imagination, or could it be he just didn’t fit in here any longer?

He looked out at the huge field behind the house and watched as the tall grass blew in the light breeze. He wondered how many secrets were hidden in that tall grass. Since he had started dating G, he could not help himself: he thought different; he was different. He knew he could not change anything that had happened here, but he marveled that so many wished they could go back to those times. It went against all that was Christian, he thought.

It had always seemed to Jimmy, as far back as he could remember, that going to church was more of a ritual than a faith. It was a tradition to go to church, but he never really saw anything coming out of it as a kid. He never understood how you could be taught one thing and immediately go out and do something completely different. It made him think that what people got out of church was no more than getting together with friends and family and neighbors and not so much communing with God.

He saw people pray for everything from a sick child to a failing farm to their own life. They prayed harder than ever but still resented their neighbor for having a larger farm or a prettier wife or a bigger house. The inside of the church was rife with gossip and judgment. It was obvious you were expected to be a certain way and were shunned if you weren’t. He’d seen it play out many times over between his mother and the other ladies. They seemed to make a lot of the decisions about who was worthy.

He did not see much value in praying, even though he himself wanted to believe so badly. When he asked questions about people doing things that seemed to go against what the reverend preached, he was always told things were more complicated than he could understand. He was told that God worked in mysterious ways.

He, too, prayed for his own miracle of understanding, but as for so many others, that miracle never came. He started to question the validity of prayer itself. He found his faith being given to those who had truly earned it. It was about then, to the dismay of his mother, that the church lost him.

He saw so much hypocrisy in his mother’s faith and wondered if people in general were just animals made up of self-indulgence and fear. He was taught that God said to love thy neighbor, unless of course your neighbor happened to be Muslim or Hindu or a Mormon or born outside the continental United States. He didn’t remember hearing that read from the Scriptures, but it was taught just like any other verse in the Bible. All his questions were unwanted, and now that he was grown, they seemed to be less and less tolerated.

He remembered one time when he was barely a teen, he asked his mother, Was Jesus black? She almost fell over. He told her he wasn’t saying he was but then asked if it would matter if he was. All he got out of her repeatedly was But he’s not. As a child, he found himself curious about why, if God created black people or gay people or Muslims or Latinos, one wouldn’t like all people. Questions like that had almost gotten him run out of town, sometimes even off his own farm. But to him it was like only liking the green M&Ms: it made absolutely no sense if they were all the same.

His mind wandered to another story from about the same time. He had been talking with his dad at the hardware store, and to be funny, he asked his dad if he shopped at the KKKmart. Well, it didn’t go over as well as he thought it would. His father did not talk to him for like a month.

His mother came up to him one day and asked why he was feeling so blue. He told his mother what had happened and that he was trying to think of a way to let his father know he was sorry, but the old man didn’t want to hear any of it. No matter how many apologies he gave or gestures of remorse he showed, he got the same cold shoulder.

Jimmy recalled how his mother had sat on the front porch scratching her bottom and told him to stop being a jerk. He remembered her saying it and how shocked he was hearing it. She said it was not something he could just fix with words. His actions had to change to match the words. His mother could see he was obviously confused, so she spelled it out for him. She said, It was not the joke that hurt your father but rather the realization that he had at that moment. He was still confused, but with a single sentence, it became clear where the problem was, according to her. She said, It was the first day that your father knew you truly thought you were better than him. That is what hurt him to his core.

He never forgot that story, that lesson that his mother very wisely told him. He looked over and saw the exact spot where his mother had impacted him with her counsel. He knew from then on that he would have to change his ways. He would have to stop asking so many questions about how or what or why his family or people in general thought some of the things they did. Unfortunately, it seemed he could not help himself. It seemed to be a compulsion he could not control. In some ways, even as a kid, he knew he was right and they were wrong, and he felt an air of superiority. It was not something he liked to admit, but down deep he knew his mother was spot on.

He knew that day, that joke, that jab at his father had changed his life and that of his entire family. It was not that he did not want to be in the good ole boys’ club; it was more that he didn’t understand the club’s rules.

It was soon after that the bumps and bruises started popping up, mostly from his older brothers. He knew his being different would always result in an arm’s length between him and them, and every year it just got worse. That was true with all but his mother. His mother would fight hell itself if need be to come to his rescue, but even her ferocity could not save him from the inevitable.

He shook his head and got himself off misery lane. His memories were mostly those of an awkward kid who felt different, who thought different, and no matter how many good memories he recalled, they seemed to center on one person. Bonds with his siblings were pretty much nonexistent; he felt the same way about his father. He knew in the back of his mind at all times that someday there would be no family and he would be alone. It was his worst fear.

He got out of his head and looked down and saw that he had two texts on his phone. He was shocked that he had not heard them when they were sent, but he figured they had come in when his mind was elsewhere. He read the texts to himself: Hey there, how’s it going at your dad’s birthday party? and When are you coming back to Atlanta, and do you want to go out to eat or do you want me to make something?

Jimmy felt happier than he had all day. His stomach had been tied in knots since he had pulled up in his parents’ driveway. He couldn’t help feeling as though he wanted to run from these people he’d known his whole life, into the arms of a woman he had only known a few months. Is that odd? he thought to himself.

He swung around and took his paper plate and napkin over to the trash can. He wanted to talk with her so bad. He wanted to be with her so bad. He pondered if it was her he wanted to be with so bad or if it was just that he wanted to be away from his family even more now. It made him feel guilt ridden and sad but at the same time like he was not the issue but instead they were. He found himself walking over to the ancient Japanese maple that he had loved to play on and climb on when he was a kid. He leaned up against its huge trunk and slid down until his butt was firmly seated on the main root. He placed his phone in front of his face and read the short messages again and again.

He looked over at the family and saw his siblings laughing and joking next to his father’s seat of honor. In his gut he knew that being around his family would not be helpful to his relationship with G, but his upbringing and his core values said even though he could not stand his siblings, most of the time his momma was his momma, and he loved her to death. He did not have a word that described sufficiently how much he owed her, how much he loved her. He wished that his family was more open to new things, but it was what it was, as his momma always said.

The irony in the fact that he now found himself sitting on the ground instead of over with his family was not lost on him. Both blamed the other. He started typing to clear his mind: Hey G, the party is ok, my dad is a lot older than my mom, he is now seventy-eight, so he isn’t as spry as he was back ten years ago, but he is sitting in his chair right now enjoying his family.

It was only a second and he got a reply: Great.

Yeah, I guess, I just wish they weren’t so, ya know.

Oh, I know came back almost immediately.

You were invited to dinner. What are you doing right now? he blurted out furiously on the keypad. He hoped it would be lost in texts and he could honestly tell his mother about extending the invitation but happily leave out the part about it not being a true invite.

There was a longer pause this time, and eventually Where, there? came back as a reply.

Don’t worry, I told them it was new, and it might be too soon to meet the parents.