THE FOUR WOMEN BLOG
  • Home
  • About
    • The F.W.B
    • The Beautiful Brown Blogger ™
  • Essence of The F.W.B.
    • WriteHer™
    • Let It Flow
    • The Vault
  • Contact
Copyrighted © 2019
All Rights Reserved

WriteHer™

“If I didn't define myself for myself, I would be crunched into other people's fantasies for me and eaten alive.”
―
Audre Lorde

​
Ms. Deborah, Olivia, Destiny, and Porsche seem like the stereotypical black women but it's more to them than meets the eye.
​Read HER story...

"Little Shop of Horror" - Porsche

9/7/2016

Comments

 
Ever since I could remember, I knew that the pigment of my skin was enriched with melanin. My parents taught me that I was beautiful and that made me proud to black. My daddy would call me his brown sugar princess, who was in the image and likeness of his beautiful sweet molasses queen, my mom. I also knew that some of the kids in my school were not as brown as me or even brown like me for that matter, but my mom taught me that the skin color of a person didn't matter because what counted was how they treated others. Little did I know, not everyone believed in that philosophy and seeing even a small glimpse of me keeps some people on high alert.

I grew up having friends of all different skin tones from silky ivory to rich sable and all shades in between; when we hung out, we looked like a box of multicultural Crayola crayons. I was what society would call a good kid so it was no surprise that my best friend at the time was Emily Harding, "the girl next door". Emily's skin was vastly lighter than mine, looking similar to that of a porcelain doll. Because of this, we were coined Ebony and Ivory. Her dad was a pastor at a local church that we were members of, so our families were seen everywhere together. If you saw the Hardings, then you saw the Joneses.

On one Autumn afternoon, Emily and I headed to the new ice cream shop in town. We got out of school early because of Parent/Teacher Conference day. Our parents told us that we could go get a snack in town until they arrived at the school at 3 o'clock to meet with our teachers. With two hours to spare, we decided to walk around town for a bit and eat ice cream at Sweet Retreat. As we were walking toward the shop, many shop owners gave us salutations.

"Hey Emily! Hey Porsche!"

"Hey girls!"

One shop owner even began singing Paul McCartney and Stevie Wonder's famous song Ebony and Ivory, "
Ebony and Ivory! Live together in perfect harmony." Emily and I began to chuckle at his off key singing.

As we approached Sweet Retreat I stopped in the doorway. I began to feel uneasy and my heart started to sink. Emily didn't notice my hesitation because she was too excited to get a scoop of ice cream. "Come on, slow poke! Let's go!" she said as she pulled the big oak door and entered the store.

When we got inside, both of our mouths dropped at the heavenly sight and smell that we were beholding, walls and displays lined up with colorful candy and the sweet aroma of ice cream and cookies. We both felt as if we were in the real life Candyland.

We walked over to the counter in the back and saw an elderly man. He appeared to be in his early seventies, showing a shiny bald head at the top with salt and pepper hair on either sides of his head. His face was wrinkled, marked with a permanent frown on his face, as if he were mad with the world.

"Why, hello princess! I'm Mr. Key, the owner of this delectable establishment. And what is your name?" he asked, looking directly at Emily.

"My name is Emily and this is my friend Porsche."

"Emily. That is a beautiful name. What brings you into the shop this time of day?"

"We got out of school early for our Parent/Teacher Conference. Our parents said we could get a scoop of ice cream since we both made the honor roll this semester," Emily answers.

"Ahhh! Smart and pretty. Well, a girl like you deserves something special. How about a sample of freshly baked cookie?"

"Oh, we would love to try one!"

He went in the kitchen and came back out holding a yellow cookie with red bits in a napkin. "This is my famous strawberry banana shortcake cookie. Here, try it!" he says as he gives the cookie to Emily.

She broke me off a piece and ate her half of the cookie. She was too doped up on sugar to realize that I hadn't taken a bite. It was hard for me to eat because I couldn't ignore the fact that the old man hadn't acknowledged my presence. Not once did he speak to me, look at me, or offer me anything even though I was standing right next to Emily. I felt taken aback by the interaction but I didn't know how to respond because I never experienced someone directly ignoring me before.

"Oh my god, these are so good, Mr. Key!" Emily exclaimed after she was done eating her half. "Porsche, are you going to finish yours?" she asked me, obviously wanting my half. I gave it to her without uttering a word. As she finished the other half, I just looked at how jovial she looked. She was eating and smiling without a care in the world. Meanwhile, I was wondering why I felt so bad after being overlooked by the shop owner.

"I'm glad you like them. I know that you came in here for some ice cream but Sweet Retreat has so much more to offer. We also have a plethora of candy and cookies. Have a look around and let me know if you want something else instead." he said, smiling at Emily.

"Will do, Mr. Key!" Emily said.


Emily and I started walking around as Mr. Key went into the kitchen. As Emily went over to the chocolate section, I went over to the red candy section. Twizzlers, Boston Baked Beans, and Red Hots set the red candy section ablaze but I was stopped in my tracks by the "fire engine colored aquatic vertebrate animals". Swedish Fish has always been my favorite candy but rarely did I get to indulge in the succulent treat. So I'm sure you can imagine my 8-year-old face when I saw them and had the opportunity to partake. I stood there in awe looking at the transparent plastic container that the sugary fish were in and debated on the amount I was going to spend on my favorite treat. I was awoken out of my trance by the sound of Mr. Key's antagonistic voice.

"Hey! What are you doing little girl?" he screamed as he appeared from the kitchen.

"What?" I said, startled by his enraged outburst.

"I saw you stealing from me. How dare you after I allowed you to come into my shop?! Now I'm going to call the cops on you, little girl!"

Before I even had a chance to defend myself, Mr. Key ran to the phone near the opening of the kitchen and called the local police station. Emily heard all of the commotion and walked over to me. 

"What is going on?" she asked me.

"Mr. Key thought I stole something but I didn't!" I responded, mortified that the cops were being called on me.

After Mr. Key got off the phone, Emily walked over to him and pleaded my case. "Mr. Key, I think there has been some type of misunderstanding. My friend, Porsche, is a good girl. She would never steal. My father, Pastor Jonathan Harding, taught us the importance of being honest at all times and to never take something that doesn't belong to us."

"Well you may have listened to the instructions of your father but that girl didn't!" he said in an accusatory manner. Emily walked over to me and consoled me as I began to cry.


Since the police station wasn't far from the shop, they arrived almost instantaneously. Two white male police officers came into the shop. They walked past us and straight to Mr. Key who stood behind the counter.


"Hello, sir. I am Officer Bowers and this is Officer Knoll. We got a call in regards to a theft that occurred here. Can you tell us what happened?"

"That girl over there stole candy from me and I caught her red-handed," he said as he was pointing to me.

Emily rubbed my back as Officer Bowers approached me. "What is your name?" he asked me.

"My name is Emily Harding and this is my friend Porsche," Emily interrupted. 


"Oh you are Pastor Harding's daughter," he said to Emily. He turned to me and said, "And what seems to be the problem?"

"I don't know, officer. I was over by the red candy section and all of a sudden Mr. Key accused me of stealing. But I didn't take anything," I said in a cracked voice. 

"Well, why would he accuse you of stealing if you didn't take anything?"

"I don't know," I said as I began to cry again.

"Where are your parents?"


"Our parents are at our school's parent/teacher conference," Emily intervened. Officer Knoll walked over to Officer Bowers and whispered something in his ear. Officer Bowers looked at me and said, "We are going to call the school and have your parents meet us down here. However, Mr. Key does not want you to be in the shop so you have to wait in the squad car until they get here."

​Officer Knoll walked me to the car and opened the door for me so I could get inside. As I sat inside the police car, I observed the scene outside the window. Mr. Key opened up the shop door and locked it so it could stay open. He went back inside and continued to talk to the officers. Emily was leaning on the shop window and started to cry. Neighboring shop owners came out of their respective shops and started inquiring about what transpired. At that moment, all I could think about was the sea of white faces that I was seeing and wondering why the only person with a brown hue was in the back of the police car.
Comments
    Ebates Coupons and Cash Back

    The Beautiful Brown Blogger ​™

    Picture
    The Beautiful Brown Blogger ™(B.B.B.) is Ny Qunaa, a black woman who is helping to debunk the myths of black women through four fictional characters.

    Archives

    October 2017
    July 2017
    April 2017
    January 2017
    November 2016
    October 2016
    September 2016
    August 2016
    July 2016

    Categories

    All

    RSS Feed

  • Home
  • About
    • The F.W.B
    • The Beautiful Brown Blogger ™
  • Essence of The F.W.B.
    • WriteHer™
    • Let It Flow
    • The Vault
  • Contact