The Sins of His Grandmother

All Rights Reserved ©

Untitled chapter

Chapter 43

Boise, Idaho gave Sondra her first taste of city life; and if she thought life had taken her on a crazy journey thus far, things in her world were about to spiral completely out of control.

Although she had lived amongst a diverse ethnic population back in Yarmouth, everyone there got along. Here in Boise, whites were at odds with blacks. They blamed the race for every criminal offence that was committed in the area and accused them of being responsible for all of the maladies and STDs that were going around. Weary of the race, the white population was adamant about getting the undesirables out of the state. But across the entire United States, particularly in the South, there was great civil unrest between the two races. There was really no place for the black residents of Boise to go. Even if they did decide to leave, no matter where they went, they were pretty much guaranteed to run into the same issues that they were facing in Idaho. During this era of societal warfare, prominent African-American activists across the country such as W.E.B. Du Bois and Martin Luther King Jr. were slaving to ensure that the future for all black Americans would be one that was free of oppression and racial discrimination. But until that time manifested itself, Sondra observed individuals of color endure brutal beatings at the hands of police officers for absolutely no reason at all; she watched as lines were drawn outlining which businesses blacks could and couldn’t patronize; she noticed a dramatic difference in the quality of education between the races; she witnessed a black teenage boy get publicly lynched for defending himself against a gang of white boys who had physically assaulted him and threatened to take his life; and she realized the way in which government officials were scoffing at duties they had sworn to fulfill when they had taken their oath into office. Idaho’s capital had opened her eyes to things that she wished she had never seen before. At times she wanted to pluck her eyeballs right out of her head.

Inherently, she knew that holding malice in one’s heart for another human being simply because of the hue of their skin was not only morally wrong, but also unjustifiably stupid. And to see how the whites had formed organized consortiums to assert their hatred for the minority race was plain ludicrous to her. Watching Ku Klux Klan members march up and down Main Street in their pure white robes and gloves, capirotes, and face masks while toting hoisted conflagrant crosses and promulgating white supremacy made Sondra ashamed to be of white descent. Ah, but then again, the whites were the majority there, and human nature does confoundingly tend to make preponderant groups of individuals resent those who are not of their kind. But Sondra refused to allow her mind to be convoluted by popular culture. She reprobated offers from Boise’s Caucasian brotherhoods to join their organizations and have indelible swastikas and Confederate flags ingrained into the dermic layer of her skin in exchange for promises of a family that would never forsake her and would provide her with eternal financial security. As enticing as their troths sounded, there was just something about these organizations that didn’t sit well with the strong-minded young woman. For one, she always wondered why when making public appearances KKK members would conceal their faces if they were so proud and unashamed of what they believed in. Furthermore, she had heard of several cases in which individuals who had come to the conclusion that they no longer wanted to be affiliated with these organizations and tried breaking ties with these groups were executed citing treason. For those who had managed to get out alive, they were shamefully forced to live with the racist symbols that they had tattooed into the skin of their legs, arms, torsos, faces, and heads for the rest of their lives. Based on mere observation alone, Sondra knew that this wasn’t the type of lifestyle that she wanted to associate herself with. If Boise’s black population had ever gotten fed up to the point where they could no longer put up with the current state of events and the vast majority of them decided to up and leave the region, Sondra was almost certain that she would have made the exodus with them.

She was magnetized to the black race. In fact, she loved the black race. The blacks were the group of people who always had a rock for sale at a more than reasonable price. And even when she didn’t have sufficient funds, certain black dealers would sometimes allow her to barter her pussy for her rocks. Sondra really loved those kinds of trade-offs. For her, intercourse with black men became almost as addicting and deadly as the drug itself.

Continue Reading Next Chapter

About Us

Inkitt is the world’s first reader-powered book publisher, offering an online community for talented authors and book lovers. Write captivating stories, read enchanting novels, and we’ll publish the books you love the most based on crowd wisdom.