Separate But Not Equal

Chapter XXIV

I just finished reading Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen a few days ago and I just want to say how amazing the book is and I really suggest you go read it.

"Look more are coming in now," Acacia yells pointing in the direction of another 50 African American children running in our direction to join us with the march.

I smile watching everyone in the cars and even some on their bikes waving at us excitedly.

A tall, older looking boy, around the same age as myself, starts sprinting towards us with a paper in his hand.

He approaches out of breath and I immediately recognise him as the boy from the jail cells that wouldn't stop making irritating noises.

Michael was it?

I stand on my toes, craning my neck, and squinting forcefully to make out the writing on the paper he's holding, without being spotted.

However, he quickly notices my uncomfortable strain and struggle just to see the note and jokingly laughs at me before shrugging his shoulders and offering it to me with a smile.

I open the note and read it aloud.

"Don't worry about your children, they're going to be alright. Don't hold them back if they want to go to jail. For they are doing a job for not only themselves, but for all of America and all of mankind... M-Martin Luther King."

"Junior," the boy behind me exclaims.

"What?"

"It says Junior. See?" I stare at him for a while, opening and closing my mouth, not sure what to do.

"Oh... erm yeah," I respond.

"If Dr. King wants us to march isn't that an even better reason to do it," Acacia smiles, excitedly.

The weather is surprisingly humid today and I suddenly find myself regretting walking the last eight miles without water.

"He sent this to all our parents?"

"The ones that know of the march, I suppose," Michael explained. "The ones that don't know will probably be in for quite a surprise when they see the pictures in the newspapers?"

"In the newspapers, wait, what newspapers?"

"Haven't you seen them, they're all over the shops. We've being accused of ruining the perfectly 'happy and diverse Birmingham system'"

Oh no.

If Papa even knows that I'm in the public view he'll want me to stop marching.

I check my watch counting the calculated minutes until the police arrive, based on the amount of people and where they've been placed.

Twenty more minutes.

******

"It was worth it."

"Ellie said she's coming too."

"Danny's doing it as well."

"Don't worry, it will be less like a jail and more like parties."

"They'll get angry eventually."

I ignore the voices running through the cells and carry on repeating the same words to myself.

Groups of 50.

50.

If we keep on coming in groups of 50 then we'll win.

Right?

They can't carry on arresting 50 children, one after another.

Right?

"Ivory."