LITMIR.BIZ

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entered the kitchen, I unexpectedly found Sebastian sitting at the table eating a peanut butter sandwich. Having not seen or thought of him in over ten days, I was apprehensive about facing him. I turned to come back later.

      “Well, hello there,” he said, getting up. “Can I talk to you for a sec?”

      I didn’t respond, but I didn’t head out of his presence, either.

      He came in front of me, “Look, the first night I met you, you may have gotten the wrong impression.”

      “Maybe, maybe not. Why do you care, anyway?”

      He took my hand. “I’ve been asking myself that same question for days. All I can come up with is that there’s something about you.”

      “Well, that’s nice and all, but I’ve got to get back to work.”

      Without hesitation, he released my hand and stepped out of my way. Part of me didn’t want him to move, but I had to fight whatever it was I was feeling.

      I heard laughter booming out of the kitchen—I recognized the loud voice as belonging to Agent Sawyer. His hillbilly laugh could be distinguished anywhere. What was all the fuss about? We only had a short window of time before the next detail unit took position. He should be gathering his things, not running his mouth.

      As I made my way toward the kitchen, I stopped when I heard Agent Sawyer say, “I hated having to call attention to the man with the grenade. No colored boy needs to be running for president, anyway. Maybe he could have stopped some of this steam, heated up around here.”

      “Hahaha!” laughed Regunfuss.

      “Oh no, he didn’t!” I said to myself, not able to ignore it.

      What a racist comment! And who says colored anymore? Where does he get off, thinking he can call that grown man a boy? And why does Regunfuss condone his comments with laughter? Oh, I was too through!

      “And tell me something—how does a black man live in a house like this? He must be selling drugs on the side. What do the little hoodlums call it now? Trapping?” I heard Sawyer say from my place right outside the kitchen.

      “Hahaha! Trapping!” Regunfuss echoed.

      “And I tell you what: these are the funniest-talking black folk I ever seen! All the rest of ’em seem like they talk like they ain’t had no kinda schoolin’ at all. Just straight out the ghettos and on into our world.”

      “What it do, my brother?” Regunfuss said as she leaned in to imitate black culture and slap hands with Sawyer.

      The roaring laughter continued, echoing and bursting through the halls. I’m surprised they didn’t bring everyone into the kitchen, wondering what was so funny. Their laughter was incredibly loud! I couldn’t let this bashing continue. I had to stand up for my protectee and for my people.

      Storming into the room, I said, “Sawyer, no more!”

      “Excuse me, missy?”

      “You heard me! No more! No more name-calling, no more bashing, no more laughter, no more stereotypes, no more of your ignorant stupidity! No more!”

      An “oooh” escaped from Regunfuss’s mouth.

      “And you, Regunfuss, how dare you egg him on like that! Don’t you know that if you don’t stand up for what’s right, you’re just a part of the problem?”

      She lost connection with my eyes and she looked down at the floor.

      “You guys are supposed to be protecting him, but you’re sitting here tearing him down behind his back. Not all black people sell drugs. Not all black people eat fried chicken and watermelon. Not all black people play basketball. Do the names Tiger Woods, Robert L. Johnson, and Chris Gardner ring a bell? No? I think it’s about time you opened your eyes and released your mind from these stereotypes and pigeonholes. Before you say some of this stuff to the wrong black person and get straightened out for real.”

      I hoped I wouldn’t ever catch him saying such nasty things again. Not in my presence, not even in my absence. My arms crossed over my chest, I stared him hard in the eye, daring him to refute, retort, or rebut. At that moment, Sebastian entered the room, first looking slightly upset, and then softening his look. He stared at Sawyer, then at Regunfuss. Then he looked at me, his face expressionless. Finally, after what seemed an eternity, he nodded slightly. The other agents began filing out of the room, hoping he didn’t hear too much. I knew he did. There was dejection in his face. I could feel it. No matter what we achieved, some people still held us back.

      When a little over twelve hours had passed, Sebastian and I bumped into each other again at his folks’ home. I had just come in from taking the mail to the van, and he was sitting at the dining room table, going over his campaign brochure. With both of Stokes’s politicians having a second headquarters in the mansion, I knew I’d need to get used to seeing him on the job.

      Trying to pass by the room he was in discreetly, I caught Sebastian’s attention anyway.

      “Agent Ware,” he called out.

      “I’m on duty. I can’t talk,” I said, again trying not to go into the gray area.

      “You’ve certainly been working hard,” he said, stepping out in front of me. “Every time I see you, you’re running. When do you get a break? I’d like to show you Georgia.”

      The lovebug in me did a somersault, as I could no longer keep myself from doing what I deemed wrong. “Aren’t you busy with your campaign for lieutenant governor?”

      “To be honest, that’s just a front. My father and I are just trying to stir up interest for his presidential campaign. He doesn’t think I’m really into politics.” He leaned toward me, so close I could smell his musky aftershave. “So, what do you say?”

      He really seemed to want to take me out. Apparently the attraction I felt for him was mutual. Why not go?

      “You must have meant Atlanta, right? The entire state of Georgia would take weeks to explore.”

      His voice lowered to a whisper. “We can cover everything in a couple of days if we put in long hours.”

      “Since I just finished over two weeks of straight duty, I do have a couple of days off coming to me.”

      “Starting when?”

      “Tonight,” I said, thrilled that he seemed so eager. “But I had planned on heading back to D.C. to check on my place.”

      “Don’t go.”

      Mrs. Stokes sashayed into the kitchen. “Agent Ware, is this room secure?”

      “Yes, ma’am.”

      “Well, then, you’d best get to the rest of the house, don’t you think?”

      Sebastian winked at me behind his mother’s back as she pulled him aside and began chattering at him. I returned to the task of securing their mansion.

      I entered the game room and began checking it out. The enormous room was empty and quiet. I noticed a large King James Bible lying open on a stand in the corner, and it drew me like a magnet.

      “Lord, what are You doing with me? I so want to please You, but I don’t know where You’d have me go,” I said, as if seeing the open book was a sign.

      I hadn’t talked to God since the night at Troy’s place, but somehow it just seemed appropriate in the presence of the open Bible. There was a longing inside of me to do what He would want, but my flesh was speaking to me as well.

      “Who are you talking to?” a sexy male voice asked, not making it easy for me to do what was godly.

      I twirled around and saw the man I’d been excited about. “No one,” I choked out.

      “Were you praying?”

      I glanced at the Bible. “Yeah, I guess so.”

      His

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