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Authors: Anthony O'Brien
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into rivers and
lakes. Eve arches; his hand plunges into pure soft want. Tears rise from his
back, a whipdriving him harder. Countless breaths; the
heat of fire. Fists clench, inner flesh surges: every drop spills. Release. Eve
feels the pulse of love beat inside her.
“I love you.”
CHAPTER SIX
The freshness of
the morning breeze, along with the sweetness of New Orleans, slowly begins to
sour, becomes choking. Jazz turns to ghetto beats, with side street hustlers,
pimps, hookers, motherfuckers with blank stares. Grass pushes through scarred
pavements; graffiti silently screams.
“You can feel the despair,
can’t you?”
“Yeah.” Jeff’s always been a
humanitarian; sadly, he states, “These people wake up every morning on the
wrong side of democracy.”
“It’s inexcusable.” Eve
looks out of the window, scorning the world. “It’s wrong.”
“It keeps you in work.”
“Me?” Taken aback by this
suggestion, she states, “I’d rather have empty prisons than society feeding me
desperate individuals.”
“They’ve always been
bastards.”
“Who?”
“The elite.”
“Oh them.” Eve sighs.
“Aren’t they always?”
“Yeah.” Jeff pauses for a
moment’s reflection. “Would you believe this all started back in 1663?”
“I always loved that about
you.”
“What?”
“You’re a lecturer.” Eve
sarcastically flutters her eyelashes towards him, smiling a sweet smile.
“Do you want to hear this?”
His serious tone of voice cracks, and he smiles; Eve’s playful nature wins him
over.
“Go on.” Pleased with
herself, she settles in to yet another of his talks.
“It was the year that divide
and rule took its first breath. Before then it was commonplace for black and
white children to be seen running through and playing in the tobacco fields
together.”
“Really?”
“A historical fact. It
wasn’t only Africans but white Europeans, the Irish, who were enslaved by the
English, and then transported here.”
“I didn’t know.”
“History is hidden by the
ideology of the day.” Jeff decides to keep this simple; he doesn’t wish to bore
Eve. “The divide started in Gloucester County, Virginia. A secret meeting took
place between black and white slaves. They were angry with the harsh working
conditions they were forced to endure, and devised a plan. They were heard
beating a drum, as they marched up to the plantation mansion, carrying
makeshift weapons.”
“What happened?”
“The revolt was put down.
But as brothers-in-arms they had bonded; together they became a powerful threat
to the establishment. After the uprising, landowners bred racial contempt,
giving whites privileges and denying them for blacks. Racism was encouraged,
and used, to separate, divide and control the slaves.”
“Their anger was diverted
away from the landowners.” Eve’s appalled. “And towards each other.”
“It was the perfect
solution.”
“But look at the damage
they’ve done.”
“I didn’t say it was right.
You should know that in all probability, it was a cold, calculating individual,
with a grandiose sense of self-worth, instigating the ideology.” Jeff pauses
choosing his words carefully. “Combine this with a lack of remorse, or empathy
for his fellow human beings, and what are we left with?”
“A psychopath.”
“Exactly.”
Jeff’s pleased that he’s
give Eve food for thought. Even after all the years that have passed since
that day back in Gloucester County, Jeff
can still feel the tension that was created back then as they drive through a
black neighborhood.
“Do you know where we’re
going?”
“I’m not lost, if that’s
what you mean.”
“I wouldn’t dare suggest
such a thing.” Eve knows no man admits to being off-course. “I was merely
asking.”
Jeff has a feeling of
familiarity driving through the streets. Although he’s never stepped foot in
New Orleans before, it has the intimacy of home. Instinctively he turns
lakes. Eve arches; his hand plunges into pure soft want. Tears rise from his
back, a whipdriving him harder. Countless breaths; the
heat of fire. Fists clench, inner flesh surges: every drop spills. Release. Eve
feels the pulse of love beat inside her.
“I love you.”
CHAPTER SIX
The freshness of
the morning breeze, along with the sweetness of New Orleans, slowly begins to
sour, becomes choking. Jazz turns to ghetto beats, with side street hustlers,
pimps, hookers, motherfuckers with blank stares. Grass pushes through scarred
pavements; graffiti silently screams.
“You can feel the despair,
can’t you?”
“Yeah.” Jeff’s always been a
humanitarian; sadly, he states, “These people wake up every morning on the
wrong side of democracy.”
“It’s inexcusable.” Eve
looks out of the window, scorning the world. “It’s wrong.”
“It keeps you in work.”
“Me?” Taken aback by this
suggestion, she states, “I’d rather have empty prisons than society feeding me
desperate individuals.”
“They’ve always been
bastards.”
“Who?”
“The elite.”
“Oh them.” Eve sighs.
“Aren’t they always?”
“Yeah.” Jeff pauses for a
moment’s reflection. “Would you believe this all started back in 1663?”
“I always loved that about
you.”
“What?”
“You’re a lecturer.” Eve
sarcastically flutters her eyelashes towards him, smiling a sweet smile.
“Do you want to hear this?”
His serious tone of voice cracks, and he smiles; Eve’s playful nature wins him
over.
“Go on.” Pleased with
herself, she settles in to yet another of his talks.
“It was the year that divide
and rule took its first breath. Before then it was commonplace for black and
white children to be seen running through and playing in the tobacco fields
together.”
“Really?”
“A historical fact. It
wasn’t only Africans but white Europeans, the Irish, who were enslaved by the
English, and then transported here.”
“I didn’t know.”
“History is hidden by the
ideology of the day.” Jeff decides to keep this simple; he doesn’t wish to bore
Eve. “The divide started in Gloucester County, Virginia. A secret meeting took
place between black and white slaves. They were angry with the harsh working
conditions they were forced to endure, and devised a plan. They were heard
beating a drum, as they marched up to the plantation mansion, carrying
makeshift weapons.”
“What happened?”
“The revolt was put down.
But as brothers-in-arms they had bonded; together they became a powerful threat
to the establishment. After the uprising, landowners bred racial contempt,
giving whites privileges and denying them for blacks. Racism was encouraged,
and used, to separate, divide and control the slaves.”
“Their anger was diverted
away from the landowners.” Eve’s appalled. “And towards each other.”
“It was the perfect
solution.”
“But look at the damage
they’ve done.”
“I didn’t say it was right.
You should know that in all probability, it was a cold, calculating individual,
with a grandiose sense of self-worth, instigating the ideology.” Jeff pauses
choosing his words carefully. “Combine this with a lack of remorse, or empathy
for his fellow human beings, and what are we left with?”
“A psychopath.”
“Exactly.”
Jeff’s pleased that he’s
give Eve food for thought. Even after all the years that have passed since
that day back in Gloucester County, Jeff
can still feel the tension that was created back then as they drive through a
black neighborhood.
“Do you know where we’re
going?”
“I’m not lost, if that’s
what you mean.”
“I wouldn’t dare suggest
such a thing.” Eve knows no man admits to being off-course. “I was merely
asking.”
Jeff has a feeling of
familiarity driving through the streets. Although he’s never stepped foot in
New Orleans before, it has the intimacy of home. Instinctively he turns
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