In Search Of Dreams

Episode 4

Walking in the opposite direction, Lori peeks
at the card Rob had palmed her. Carter
Law Offices is across the top in block lettering.

Then, below, Robert Carter, Attorney at Law.

Below that is an address and phone number.

She slips it into her purse with his handkerchief,
deciding that Elliot doesn’t need to know.
She turns to her brother now. “What in tar
nation is your problem, anyway?”

“Huh?” Elliot looks at her, affronted.

“You were very rude to them, and they were
only trying to help me.”

“I don’t trust ’em,” he mutters.

“Robert and Marcus specifically, or all white
people?” she snaps at him.

Elliot says nothing.

“You, yourself just said in there that you hoped
that important people were listening to Dr.
King’s words. Sounds to me like you were too
busy hoping that the rich white folks were
listening to bother listening yourself,” she
scolds.

“I listened,” he protests.

“But you didn’t take it to heart. He was talking
about treatin’ everyone with fairness and
kindness, not just colored folks. Equality for all
races. Did you hear him once say, ‘Don’t trust
whitey, he’s only out to take your money and
rape your womenfolk?’ No,” she presses on, not
giving him a chance to answer, “you did not.

Rob and Marcus seemed to me like nice,
trustworthy young men. You even said you
recognized Marcus.”

“I recognized him; doesn’t mean I know him.”

“Well you can’t know someone until you give
them a chance.”

“I’m not sure about the other one. That blond
Mr. Charlie seemed like a spoiled rich white boy
if I ever seen one.”

“Saw one,” she automatically corrects him. “And
so what if he does have money? He came out
to hear the speech just like you and me, which
tells me something about him, even if you don’t
see it.”

“What’s that?”

“He’s trying. He doesn’t agree with the way
things are. He wants things to be different,
too.”

They walk quietly for a bit.

“You know I ain’t got no love for white folks,
and even more so after what happened with
Mama.”

“I know. But her dyin’ wasn’t the doctor’s fault.

She had the cancer, Elliot. Yes, the doctor was
a bit—”

“He was a jive-ass honky racist turkey,” Elliot
provides.

“I was going to say ‘condescending,’ but I
suppose that’ll do,” she chuckles.

“Lori, you don’t see what I see when I’m out
on jobs,” Elliot says, stopping now to turn and
look at her. “I go to some big house to put in
new kitchen cabinets or repair a bookcase, and
I see them rich white folks with they pretty lil’
colored maids, and most of the time, Mister is
either – what was that word you used?

Condescending. Or downright mean. Or worse,
tryin’ to get more than the girl is gettin’ paid
for.”

“Every time?” she asks.

“Not every time, no,” he admits. “But enough to
make me fret a bit when a pretty white boy is
nice to us. And he sho’nuff had money, I could
tell by the way he was dressed. I could see my
face in his shoes!”

“Elliot, thank you for being concerned, but I can
take care of myself. I’m sorry that you have to
see what you’ve seen, but I still say that you
can’t judge every white man based on the
actions of a few white men. That’s just as
unfair as what they do to us and you know it.”

Elliot scowls and shoves his hands into his
pockets.

“Don’t let your grief paint every picture black,
baby brother,” she says, nudging him with her
elbow. “Mama died five years ago. Things have
changed some since then. Still got far to go, but
it’s gettin’ better. And if she knew how you were
behavin’ now, she’d sure enough come down
here and tan your hide but good!”

“Prob’ly,” Elliot says, laughing a little now.

“‘Sides, it’s not likely we’ll be seeing those two
boys again anyway, right?”

“Right,” Lori says, her mind drifting to the card
in her purse and the handkerchief she has
vowed to clean back to sparkling white. It also
drifts, unbidden, to the peculiar wobble her
stomach did when Rob said her name.

It was nice to meet you, Loretta.