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| FRIENDS |
| BY |
| PARKER JONES |
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| THE BEGINNING |
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| Most of the boys waiting behind Centennial High School in Compton, Ca were there with several family members. Roman and Gloria sat across the street in the truck waiting for someone to come out and give the order to line up or get in formation or something like that. |
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| "I'm going to be a good mother," she said. "You don't have to worry about the boys. I packed some of their most recent pictures for you." |
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| "Thanks. I'm going to miss you," he blurted. That would take the place of I love you. |
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| "I want to apologize for everything," she said. "If anything happens to you it will be all my fault. If I hadn't gotten pregnant, you would've surely gotten a scholarship and gone to play football at..." |
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| "Gloria, don't talk about this. It's in the past. We have a son, and I love him. Who knows what would've happened? You can't deal with life by regretting the past. If God didn't want us to have a baby, then we wouldn't have had Randall. I will never regret that." |
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| "Neither will I but..." |
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| "There're no buts about it, Gloria. Just be quiet, all right? This kind of talk bugs the fuck out of me." |
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| She realized he had gotten into one of his moods, but it didn't matter. "Why do I always have to be the one who gives in to what you say? I needed to get something off my chest, and it wouldn't have hurt to listen for a change. Why does our good-bye have to be like this?" |
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| "Aw damn," Roman said out of frustration and grabbed his suitcase. Then he opened his door to get out. |
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| "Roman wait!" She tried to grab him, but he closed the door. Then she followed him out the same door and started across the street, not hearing the coming car that had to slam its brakes making its tires screech. Gloria screamed, and Roman turned around just in time to see it tap her gently before coming to a full stop. Death had paid her a visit but decided to let her live longer. Roman could see she was shaken. He dropped his suitcase and started toward her. She was frozen scared in the street until he took her hand and led her back to the pick-up. |
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| He wondered if it were love that he felt for her when he heard the scream and the tires. If she'd been killed or injured he would've been devastated. That realization came to light in the time it took the car to stop. |
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| They rushed to each other's arms when they reached the truck and kissed passionately. They held on tightly as husband and wife, and then he said, "I love you." |
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| "I love you too," she said happily and kissed him again. |
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| Then there was a whistle coming from the army supply yard, and the loud voice of a sergeant yelling for the draftees to line up. "There's a dot for each one of you!" he yelled. "Find it and get on it!" |
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| "Gotta go!" Roman had to break away from Gloria's grasp but relented to her wishes and kissed her once more. Then he heard the threat of two hundred push-ups, and she pushed him away. |
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| She sat inside the truck and watched as names were called. Most of those who answered looked younger than their age. Nineteen was the average. Roman, who had turned 18 only four months earlier, was one of the youngest. There were nine no shows out of 235. The sergeant assured everyone that if those nine were not in the hospital dying, the federal government would surely find them. |
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| The men boarded three buses. Roman was on the last one looking to see if Gloria was still there. For the first time he experienced fear from this ordeal and wished he were with her. His eyes watered, and he quickly wiped them dry. It would be embarrassing for another guy to see him homesick. |
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| "Is that your girlfriend?" said a white guy sitting next to him as the buses started around the back of the school. Everyone was assigned a seat and race had no bearing on the arrangements. |
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| "My wife," Roman responded. |
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| "Your wife! Man that was one bitchen broad. If I ever get married, I could only wish for a girl that pretty. How do you rate someone that foxy?" |
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| "I don't know." Roman was obviously standoffish with a strange person trying to be overly friendly, especially a strange white guy. |
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| "I'm Peter Todd. Nice to meet you." Peter put his hand out and Roman shook it. He was a fairly thin young man, probably at the bottom of the height scale for the army, no taller than five feet, six inches. He had the appearance of maybe a fourteen-year-old and the self-confidence to match. No one would need to issue him a razor since he wouldn't use it for maybe another ten years. The only rough areas on his baby face were the results of healing acne. |
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| "I'm Roman Robinson." |
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| Peter's grip was firm when they shook. He was glad to make a quick acquaintance. His mother had told him to latch on to someone who was big but nice. What she meant was someone who might protect her son from the bullies. Peter had experienced much harassment in his life because of his size and frail appearance. She prayed that he would fail the physical exam the week before, but he passed with flying colors. |
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| "I guess we'll be seeing a lot of each other, Roman," he said in envy of Roman's stature and woman. |
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| Peter didn't know how right he was about himself and Roman seeing a lot of each other. After a short bus ride to the Los Angeles International Airport, they sat with each other on the flight to Arizona where they went through eight weeks of basic training with five thousand others. |
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| The first week was an adjustment period for those dependent upon parents or siblings to do things for them. Their sergeant, Clint Spinner, was determined to have his bunch ready for combat training within the eight weeks he had to work with them. "GOT DAMN! If you can't make up a fucking bed, how are you going to handle a got damn M-16 that jams on you in the face of a fucking Viet Cong trying to cut you in half with his weapon?" He walked through the barracks and tore up every bunk. "GET IT FUCKING RIGHT THIS TIME! YOU CALIFORNIA PRISSYS DON'T HAVE YOUR MAMA'S TITS TO SUCK ON NO MORE! YOU HAVE ONE MINUTE!" |
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| He blew his whistle and everyone scrambled for his bed covers. Roman had no trouble getting his things because no one, white or black, got in his way. It was taken for granted because of his size and demeanor that he was not someone to mess with. He was one of the first men finished with his bunk, but poor Peter Todd was bumped by everyone around. |
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| "Look out, Squirt!" a white guy told him. |
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| Then a black guy accidentally stuck his elbow in Peter's face. "Sorry." The blow was not damaging but it did smart. |
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| "Watch it!" Peter tried to warn off the tormentors but to no avail. As time ticked away he was tripped and then in desperation attacked a black guy, Leroy Whitehead. Peter took one good punch that landed, and then Leroy started to kick his ass before the sergeant could throw him across the room. |
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| "TWO HUNDRED PUSH-UPS! NOW GOT DAMMIT! EVERYONE! THE LAST ONE TO START WILL GIVE ME TWO HUNDRED MORE!" |
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| Everyone scrambled to the floor and some complained. |
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| "MAKE IT THREE HUNDRED!" Spinner listened for more complaints but heard none. He knew how to spot potential racial problems. In his twelve years in the service, there wasn't a month without some type of incident that he hadn't witnessed or heard about. To let it go further; a black guy picking on a sissy white boy, or vice versa, would be detrimental to his goal. He would work them so much, exhaustion, not race, would be their biggest concern until they reached Vietnam. |
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| Roman, however, adapted quickly. For him the regiment was easy to follow. He was always one of the fastest runners, the strongest climbers, and the swiftest crawlers. In hand-to-hand combat he became one of the instructors after learning so fast to defend himself. |
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| Peter Todd turned out to be a whiz at handling the weapons issued to him. He was one of the first men who could disassemble an M-16 and then put it back together. On the firing range he was also a near perfect shot. This was the edge he found that stopped the harassment. It was Sergeant Spinner who assisted with his dilemma by shouting out, "Damn, Todd, you're not such a pansy after all. I bet you could plug anyone of these guys at any distance and claim it was an accident. Fuck, nobody's perfect! Right Todd?" |
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| "YES SERGEANT!" Peter replied and then glared at those who had been picking on him. |
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| The work and the exercises did tire Roman, and they also helped him overlook the feelings he had for his loved ones back home. He wanted to write everyday but only got around to it once or twice a week. More pictures of the boys arrived. They were kept in his wallet and looked at often. |
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| During the evening the men would spend time in their barracks after dinner. Some would crash, while others would wind down in the recreation hall for about an hour. Roman usually stayed up till eight o'clock or so and found out the other thing Peter was good at, ping-pong. |
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| They would play long close matches decided by two points, but Peter was always the winner. As they played Peter would ask a lot of questions about everything. "What's it like being black?" he asked one evening, and Roman laughed so hard, he caught the attention of others in the room. |
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| "What did you asked me?" Roman was amused by the question as well as the manner in which it was asked. The things Peter asked about demonstrated his innocence. Despite his 19 years, he hadn't experienced much. The closest he had gotten to a naked woman was a playboy photo he found and kept in his wallet. He took his one and only high school date to the senior prom, and she was just as much a homebody as he. This is not to say that he was not attractive. With the slightest effort he could dazzle many girls with his personality, but his lack of confidence stopped him from trying. |
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| His world had been dominated by his parents. The clothes he had with him were picked out by his mother. He never had to work in his life and thus was denied the opportunity to meet those from other cultures or races. Therefore his curiosity was genuine, and though Roman was amused, he was also intrigued because here was the first white person he'd met who didn't have the traits his father described. Once the novelty of the question wore off, he gave it serious thought, figuring he would have to compare it to what he knew about Caucasians. |
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| "What do you want to know first?" |
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| "Tell me about your family." |
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| "You want to know about my family or black families in general? In some ways there's a difference. Just like you're family is not like the Cleavers or the Nelson's you see on television." |
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| Peter thought for a moment in between serves on the ping-pong table. "I guess in general. Is it true that black people are lazy? I hear that a lot." |
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| That question was difficult to take, but Roman searched within his father's wisdom for an answer. "Who do you hear that from?" |
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| "Kids at school said it, and a few of my teachers. We only had ten blacks in my senior class. I heard a couple teachers say to one that she wasn't lazy like others of her race." |
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| Roman was further distraught. He thought about the teacher at junior high who ranked him third according to his race. "Pete, these things were said by people who don't have any contact with black people. Let me ask you something. You were picked on a lot in school, right? |
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| "Yeah." |
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| "How did it feel?" Roman won the ping-pong point and served a fastball. |
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| "Well, it didn't feel good. Most of the time I avoided the kids who insisted on bothering me." |
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| "So some of the kids around would probably think you're anti-social, right?" |
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| "It's possible. Well, probably." |
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| "Well, for a long time black people have been picked on a lot by white people. Especially down south, but in California too. In the South blacks were bullied by groups like the Ku Klux Klan. In California different methods are used. You see, there are some doors open to you that will never open for me, simply because you're white and I'm not. So you don't see black people in the same jobs or living in the same neighborhoods as whites because we're not welcomed. It's almost like we're invisible and because people don't see us around they make up things like we're lazy." |
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| "Then why don't blacks put their money together and hire their own kind?" |
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| Roman thought for a moment. "I really don't know. The only thing I can come up with is maybe we don't trust each other. You see, we hear the same things you hear about us." |
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| Peter served the ping-pong ball. The score on their game was 20-20. Roman felt this might be the first time he could beat his friend. He hit the ball hard and everywhere on the table, but Pete's quick reflexes let him return with skill and speed. Sometimes when Roman hit the ball hard, he found it coming back with even more velocity. "Damn!" he said when he hit the ball into the net, trying to skim it over. |
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| "Roman, don't take this the wrong way, but I think your wife is really beautiful. Do you think I could find a black girl like her?" |
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| Roman was so stunned by that question he completely missed the ball coming on the next serve. "Come on, let's hit the sack." They started out of the recreation room and were followed by others in their barracks. "You want to marry a black girl?" Roman asked as they walked across the base. "Why? That could cause you more problems than you already have. People pick on you enough, and you're white. If you married a black girl, you're life would be a living hell." |
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| "They make bad wives?" |
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| "No, Gloria is a good wife. I don't know if I've been a good husband." |
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| "She seemed like she loves you a lot, and you get letters from her almost everyday." |
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| "Look, Pete, a lot of white people, maybe even your own family, and some blacks too, would ostracize you for having a black wife." |
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| "You know, Roman, until I came into the army and learned that I can shoot a rifle well, my entire life was already a living hell. My father didn't come to see me off because he thought I would cry and embarrass him. In gym class, I was panst and had hot sauce poured on my nuts. I've had a pile of dog shit put in my lunch box. If I want to fall in love with a black girl, then I will." |
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| "Oh." They reached the barracks and entered. They whispered, not wanting to wake anyone. "Do you have a girl in mind? A black girl?" |
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| "No, do you?" |
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| Roman smiled and shook his head. He thought from the way Pete was talking that he had a black girl picked out. "No, I don't." |
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| They both undressed in the dark along with a couple other men who came in with them. They slept in their skivvies and were in bed in a minute. "Dammit!" Peter yelled. Then he quickly got out of his bunk. |
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| "What is it?" |
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| There was some laughing from other parts of the barracks. |
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| "Somebody put jello in my bed." Peter's underwear were cover with the remnants of the evening desert, strawberry jello, which by that time was warm and runny. |
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| "Hey the little bitch is on his period," said Vernon Bickerstaff, a Caucasian recruit, and there was a burst of laughter that brought out Sergeant Spinner. |
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| The sergeant blew his whistle and the noise stopped immediately. "All right you low-life miscreants! You sad excuse for AMERICANS! Since you don't know what it means to get some shut-eye, we can all go out for a five-mile run! IN FULL GEAR! Everyone up and ready in five minutes!" Then he was gone. |
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| "We should all kick yo lil' ass right now," said Leroy Whitehead, a black recruit. |
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| Bickerstaff bumped Peter almost enough to knock him over. "You couldn't keep your pussy mouth shut." |
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| "Cut it out!" Peter said in a whinny pitch, sounding like a kid. |
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| "Leave him alone asshole," Roman said as he put his clothes back on. Then he moved Pete out of the way. |
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| Bickerstaff pursed his lips into a sinister smile. "You sure you want some of this, big boy?" |
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| "Motha fucka, you hit me, and I'll kill you with my bare hands." There was no emotional inflection in Roman's words. He spoke with the same deliberateness he would while ordering a Big Mac. Some guys who were close to them moved away and kept an eye on Roman. |
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| Just then the sergeant burst back into the barracks, already in his full gear. "What the fuck are you girls waiting on? You in here measuring each other? No one's is bigger than mine! That's all you need to know! And if you're not outside in two minutes, we'll make it ten miles!" |
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| Roman and Bickerstaff put their squabble aside and hurriedly prepared for the run. Everyone met the two-minute deadline, and it took them less than 30 minutes to complete the five-mile course. Afterwards they had 15 minutes to prepare for a barracks inspection. |
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| Spinner was a hard man, and he took pride in his job of preparing boys for war. At the end of the eight weeks only one of the recruits was not recommended for special infantry training. It was not Peter Todd, though some of the other recruits tried as much as they could to make things rough for him. His main tormentors were Bickerstaff and Whitehead. Roman kept them at bay along with another recruit, Mark Hernandez, from East Los Angeles. |
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| The infantry training was in the Florida Everglades where the terrain would provide a close simulation to that of Vietnam. There was one day off before they would be shipped out. Early that morning, Roman was surprised when his sister, Virginia, and wife, Gloria, showed up in the van with his two boys. They spent the day together, and he used the van to sneak away with Gloria for sex in the middle of the desert. |
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| While they were gone Peter acquainted himself with Virginia who found him to be a different kind of Caucasian. They went for a walk with the boys and became fast friends as they learned about one another. "My husband was killed in the war in 66'," she told him. "Do you have a girlfriend?" |
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| Peter laughed. "Are you kidding? Look at me. I look like I'm in the ninth grade. Girls avoided me in school like I was a leper." |
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| "I don't see why. I think you're cute." |
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| "Now you're teasing me." |
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| "No I'm not. Really. I think you'll fill out in time. Some people just take longer than others." |
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| "Then will you be my girlfriend?" |
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| Virginia smiled, not taking him seriously, but went along with his request, which was filled with sincerity. She figured he was lonely and about to be even more so when he shipped out. It won't hurt to be his girlfriend. Having a girl would help him when a Viet Cong bullet or explosion took his life. At least he would feel loved. "Sure, I'll be your girlfriend." As they walked Peter gathered up enough nerve to hold her hand. Promises were made between them to write, and after an hour or so they met Roman and Gloria at the base. |
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| That afternoon they all drove into Tucson and had dinner at a small, family-owned restaurant. Their waitress was a twelve-year-old girl who treated them like the richest people in the world. Even the cook and owner came out and asked how they liked the dinner. Roman was particularly intrigued by this treatment and remembered the story his father told him about the old man in New Mexico. Here was more proof that all Caucasians didn't treat blacks badly. The bill came to nineteen dollars for four prime-rib dinners, two spaghetti plates for the boys, and dessert. The owner offered beers to the recruits whom he knew were about to ship out. Both Roman and Peter politely refused them. They would soon be on duty. |
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| It was dark by six-thirty and they headed back to the base, so Roman and Peter could check in by eight. Roman noticed that Peter was quite attached to Virginia and wondered if she noticed. "I'll walk you to the barracks," he heard his sister say to Peter. They walked away holding hands. |
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| "I've never kissed a girl before," he said as they walked. |
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| "Well, that's all right. I've never kissed a white guy." The day before she would've never considered herself in such a situation. She could feel the perspiration in his hand even though the temperature was in the fifties and dropping. "Will you take care of my brother?" she asked him. |
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| "Of course I will, though he's the one who's been taking care of me." He looked over and saw his barracks forty feet away. "Maybe we should stop here." |
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| "OK." |
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| He had to look up at her and wondered what he should do next. "I guess this is it." |
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| "Yes, it is." |
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| "Virginia, I don't know what to do." |
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| She smiled and then cradled his cheeks into her hands. Then her lips slowly moved closer to kiss him. It was a short peck on the mouth, but she leaned down again. The second kiss lasted long enough to say good-bye for a year. Her mouth opened to his, and he held her tightly. When it was over they continued to embrace until Roman walked toward them. He embraced his sister and gave her a short peck. |
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| "Thanks, Sis, for bringing them out." |
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| "You're welcome." |
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| "I love you." |
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| "I love you too." They held each other tightly, and then Roman went inside the barracks. She didn't tell him to take care of himself because he would know to do that for her, as she would know to take care of Gloria and the kids. |
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| Virginia looked at Peter and held her hand out. They embraced again and then she turned away to leave. As she walked away she had to dry her eyes. Saying good-bye to him reminded her of Manuel, killed in the war two years earlier. |
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| Pete watched her walk away and saw her hand go to her eyes. She's crying for me, he thought. He wanted to console her but decided otherwise. Once inside the barracks, he was greeted with whistles and catcalls. "Way to go! Pete! Sugar lips! Nice lookin babe!" Some of the other guys saw him kissing Virginia, and it didn't matter that they weren't the same race. They were all preparing for war. Pete had someone at home waiting for him, and that was important. |
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| "Hey Robinson," Leroy Whitehead called out to Roman who was packing his things. "What you teachin your boy here? Black girls are supposed to be a secret. Once it gets out how good she is, all the white boys'll want one, and they won't be any left for us." |
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| "It's not like that," Peter said. |
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| "Yeah, I bet. You`d probably get lost if you did it with her." Leroy went to stand by Peter's bed. |
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| "Hey, that's enough about her," Peter said. |
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| "A Vietnamese girl would probably be too big for Peter," said Vernon Bickerstaff. He joined Leroy. "I know he didn't do it with his new ol' lady. She was still tired from when I plugged her." He laughed and Leroy joined in the joke. |
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| "But she'd be too big for you too," Leroy said and they continued to laugh. They stopped, however, when Roman approached them aggressively. |
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| "That's my sister you assholes are talkin about. I wish you would stop." His eyes were glazed and scary looking, so both guys backed away. |
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| "OK, sure," Bickerstaff replied. He had ideas about fighting Roman, but his own intuition told him it would be a losing effort. |
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| "Right on, Bro," was Leroy's response. |
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| Peter looked at Roman and greatly admired how he was able to shut-up those guys. What do I need with a girlfriend, he thought. I can't even defend her honor. He went to his locker and started packing his gear. |
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