Scissors

I

      You know how your life is just a series of routines, wake up, eat, live sleep and do it all again? You ever get a sense that you are sleep walking, doc? Because everybody is like that, unless you've met that someone. That one that is half awake enough to bump into you and then you are both awake and the person does not stop there. He goes on to wake up everybody you two encounter and there is no stopping him now, because that's just who he is. That was how it was for me—meeting Jason.

The first time I met Jason Uche was in the ninth grade.

All through the year, we had never crossed paths. Never spoken or even looked at each other of course, the fact that we walked in two totally different spheres of life contributed to that, but it was not the only thing keeping us clear from each other. Jason was a trouble maker; he was all flashing lights and reckless charm, where I was pale, boring and dull in comparison. I knew him, but I know he definitely did not know me.

I knew he was that kid who wore the weird colorful clothes to school on Fridays, the really printy ones you only see in those movies about Africa. I knew that he had never failed a math test and I knew he did not know me. I was trying to stay clear of him too, doc. Nothing fantastic about his life to me. Just noise, color, trouble and obscurity.

Fate.

Such an annoying thing, has a way of shoving you into situations you never thought you would find you self in, you know what I mean? You probably do, doc, or did. I heard adults stop thinking about shit like this when they get older.

I had no plans of begin called on in class to give my views on a subject. Heck, I didn't plan on being asked what I thought life would give me. So there I was, standing in front of a class of depressed students and a teacher who was a bit too enthusiastic about the whole ordeal.

"I dunno"I said staring at my feet. "I guess, what is typical for an average white male in this country."

The teacher looked at me a bit too sharply. I had said 'white'. "Your race has nothing to do with this"

Have you ever noticed that it is mostly bad if you say something about black people or Hispanics or Latin Americans, or Asians. Rarely is it wrong to say something underhanded about being white. Don't get me wrong, so many things could offend me if you brought up my race or color, but I won't exactly say it is racist would I? I am white, does that mean i have no flaws? nothing to identify with? i am white, does it mean i have the best out of life?

 That I brought up race in the class would start up something. The teacher knew it. Race was not supposed to be a factor in the lesson she was trying to pass across, she was trying to use our aspirations in that lesson and I had just pulled the class to the reality of a world where tribal divisions stood. The tribal divisions may be weak or whatever, but it is still there. There are just too many types of people for every one to co-relate.

I think that was what Jason had in mind when he raised his hand to talk.

"Mrs. Umbridge?" Jason said getting up. "I think Race is at least a percentage factor in our future. For example, I don't think I would like to be working in an institution that is not friendly to me simply because I am black and in need of a job. And let us all face the truth, we do have places like that, but since everybody is on the look out to protect society's weak, they never last long"

I was standing, tongue twisted because I never believed anyone would stand up for me in class, much less Jason Uche.

The class was dismissed early because a heated debate on race got started up. So while I packed my notes, Jason was staring at me. When we left the class I found him walking next to me, his long legs keeping pace with me n lazy strides, where I was walking quickly.

"But race doesn't factor into a lot of things" he said suddenly "it only does if you cant get past the colour of my skin"

I looked at him, he had said 'my skin' like we were talking about him.

"sure "I nodded.

"Dude, you don't talk much do you?" He asked laughing quietly, like he just thought of some private joke that I desperately wanted in on.

I shrugged. "I talk" was all I said.

"sure you do" he said "what's your name?"

I gaped at him, feeling stupid. I knew his name and he didn't know mine. Why did I even know the guy's name?

"Carter" I said to him.

"oh, im Jason" he said and stretches out his hand for a shake even though we are walking very fast.

I looked at the hand and deliberately ignore it.

"I know who you are" I said and immediately what to off myself.

Jason grinned so hard. I looked at him and felt bad about myself, I knew him but to him I was a speck of nothing.......not worth knowing. That single fact made me feel like piss.

"Great, now we can get off on the right foot" he said, if only he knew "I want to be your friend"

I stopped walking at that.

"We are not enemies" I stated.

"But we are not friends" he said. "I like a smart guy"

"Look" I said "I don't know what this is but I don't like it......okay?"

He had been smiling then, but he just stopped. His warm eyes went dull and his mouth was was left in a very curious O.

"don't take it wrong" I tried "but it is extremely creepy for you to just walk up to me and be like.......lets be friends"

He scratched the woolly hair on his head and shrugged. "I just wanted to mix things up is all" he shook his head and spun on his heels. I am not sure, but I think I heard him mutter something.

Just trying to help us both.

I felt bad, doc. It was just horrible to watch him walk away, watching the ground like that, his hands in his pocket and his back hunched. then after a while, he straightened up and walked away, waving to a girl. I wondered if they were friends. I wished I had been nicer to him. I wanted to be a better person and not the rude jerk who thought he was too good for the cool kid from Nigeria.

I sighed at the ground and tried to stop my chest from burning and fluttering too much at the memory of Jason's broken look at me.