"Lorenzo?" Beyoncé asked, turning to open the door.
"I saw the police driving up. It looks like they went a couple of doors down," he spoke.
Beyoncé moved to stand next to Lorenzo, watching the same officers knocking on Alice's door with the same amount of patience —or lack-there-of that they had knocking on hers.
"What's going on?" Lorenzo asked as she invited him inside of her home. She didn't mind.
"It's nothing. Well, the police came poking 'round, asking about Raymond Neely and Mary Tate— saying that he raped her. They must have nothin' better to do than harass colored folk 'cause they sure aren't protecting us," Beyoncé scoffed. "It's good to see you!" She immediately smiled at the handsome view that towered over her. Lorenzo sat at the kitchen table with her.
Lorenzo ran a hand through his short, dark hair, wondering where to start. "It's good to see you too, Bey. Some guys at the gym say that Ray and Mary have been sneaking around together for most of the year. I train with a lot of colored guys, some of whom live here, and they swore that it was true.
Well, old Councilman Tate found out that his daughter was running 'round with a poor colored man...and you're an intelligent girl, Bey. I think you can figure out the rest," he frowned.
Beyoncé rested her hands on the table as she exhaled loudly. "This has been happening more lately. Some colored man falls in love with the wrong white girl, and then her parents accuse him of raping her. It happened to Mr. Keller last year. The poor man— he got the chair. Oh, Jesus, I don't want that to happen to Raymond..." She frowned at the thought.
Lorenzo shook his head, too, knowing that the odds were significantly stacked against that man. "He just picked the wrong girl..." He reached out, moving to hold Beyoncé's hand, before resting his own back in his lap. She noticed the strange gesture but didn't say anything. "I didn't come here to talk 'bout Ray and Mary. I wanted to take you out for lunch. You up for it?" He questioned.
"Yeah!" Beyoncé smiled wide, nearly jumping up from her kitchen seat. "Let me go fix my hair first." Lorenzo laughed as she disappeared to her bathroom, closing the door.
Lorenzo drove Beyoncé down South Street, where most of the restaurants were. He parked his car a block away from the restaurant. They passed Rue's diner on their walk. She did not miss that place one bit.
The two enjoyed great conversation and their delicious food for over an hour. Suddenly, Lorenzo put down his glass of water and looked at Beyoncé with a serious face.
"Bey, I...Uh— I have to tell you something," he hesitated.
Beyoncé blinked nervously as she nodded. Lorenzo paused for a few more seconds. "Just say it, Lorenzo," she sighed.
"I've been offered a big deal by this huge scout from up north!" He revealed.
"Where up north?" Beyoncé furrowed her eyebrows.
"New York City...Brooklyn, actually," he replied.
"Wow! That's so awesome, Lorenzo! Congratulations. I know you're very excited," Beyoncé cheered as she knew this was his dream come true. "but you won't leave for a while, right?" She hoped.
"Not exactly... I leave in two weeks for Brooklyn. They're offering me a lot of cash and some of the best training. I'll have to do a couple of fights for them, but this is an offer I can't pass up. If I stay in this town, I'll never get recognized. This is my big shot!" Lorenzo said.
"I'm sad you must leave again, Lorenzo, but I agree. To make it big, you must go up further north. This sounds like an opportunity of a lifetime." She forced a smile.
"I know, but I wanted to let you know I'll be gone for at least a year." Lorenzo dropped the giant bomb on her.
Beyoncé blinked in shock as she swallowed. She must have heard him wrong, so she asked for clarification."A year?" She hardly whispered.
"Well— at least. And if they're impressed, it may be for a little longer," he cringed. Beyoncé looked away as the thought of Lorenzo being gone for over a year had ruined their lovely meal.
"Listen, I know you and I aren't official, and that's okay. Let's remain just friends. It wouldn't be fair for either of us when we'll be so far apart for so long." Lorenzo looked up at Beyoncé. He held his breath, waiting for her response. If he can't have her as his lover, he needs her as his friend because Beyoncé is remarkable. Losing her ultimately would hurt.
After a few moments of silence, Beyoncé spoke with a small smile. "Lorenzo, I agree. I wouldn't want to keep you from any woman in New York." She joked, hoping to make the situation a little lighter.
Lorenzo sported a bright smile, happy she didn't take the news too badly. "Nor would I want to keep you away from anyone down here. But we're still writing to each other, okay? Don't think you can get rid of me that fast!" He laughed.
"Of course!" She chuckled.
One week later...
Beyoncé stood at the bottom of the Dukes' spiral staircase, looking at the full laundry basket at her feet with dread. "I may as well just get it over with." She said to herself, picking up the heavy basket and feeling a strain on her back as she straightened. The entire way to the second floor, she laughed at the fact that she was about to turn twenty and had back pains like an old woman. She finally reached her destination and knocked on her friend's door, holding her breath.
"If that's you, Bey, you can come in!" Morgan shouted cheerfully from the other side.
The tired maid released a low groan of disappointment and slight agitation. She hoped Morgan would be out of the house, spending time with Vivian. Beyoncé usually enjoyed Morgan's company, and she was always so happy to see her, but today, she wasn't in a talking mood.
Nonetheless, Beyoncé couldn't avoid Morgan all day. So, she put on the most convincing smile she could muster, pushed some hair out of her face, and then turned the knob to enter Morgan's large room. Beyoncé found Morgan standing by her canopy bed, examining two dresses she held in either hand.
"Bey! I'm so happy to see you!" Morgan spoke in excitement. "I've been tryin' to choose which dress to wear tonight, and I just can't!" She complained, obviously frustrated. "Now, tell me the truth. Do you like the green one or cream colored one better?" Morgan asked, turning to Beyoncé with a bright smile.
Beyoncé couldn't help but smile at how distraught Morgan was over some clothing choice. "I like the cream one the most." She answered evenly, tucking away some clothing in the dresser next to Morgan's window.
"You're right," Morgan agreed, tossing the other dress on the bed as she plopped down next to it. "You know, Vivian and I went shopping just yesterday, and—" Morgan's words began to run together as Beyoncé quickly zoned out of the conversation.
Closing the top dresser drawer, Beyoncé looked out the window and saw Justin walking around the large fountain in front of the Dukes' mansion. She watched Justin stand next to his red convertible. His head was tilted downward as he lit a cigarette, throwing the lighter in the passenger seat.
As she watched Justin get into his car, she wondered what he was thinking at that very moment. Had he missed her as much as she had missed him this past week? Or was he still upset with her and planned to avoid her for another week?
Beyoncé didn't have much time to ponder on those thoughts because she was loudly interrupted by Morgan, who was now standing next to her. "So what do you say, Bey?" She asked with a bright smile.
Morgan's eyebrows furrowed at Beyoncé, who looked lost. She looked out the window in the same direction Beyoncé had been so transfixed. Her eyes locked onto Justin's car.
Morgan had had enough. Since she had discovered via a minor investigation that Justin had purchased Beyoncé a new copy of "Fahrenheit 451", she had been watching a relationship develop between her friend and cousin, which upset her. From catching them alone in the stables to listening in on private conversations behind closed doors, it didn't take a genius to put two and two together. She had prayed that something would happen to split the two and have them go their separate ways before becoming too attached.
When Lorenzo came back, that felt like a sigh of relief. Morgan assumed that Beyoncé would forget about Justin. It had become clear to her— that wouldn't happen since Lorenzo told Beyoncé he wanted to remain friends and left for New York. Now, everything was a mess, and she could do nothing about it.
"Morgan, what were you saying?" Beyoncé asked impatiently, turning away from the window as she found her friend staring at the ground in deep thought.
"Oh, nothing, nothing..." Morgan assured, flipping her dark hair as she walked over to the brand-new shoes she had placed on her bed.
"What's all this dressin' up for again?" Beyoncé questioned again.
Morgan sighed in frustration because she had explained why already, but Beyoncé didn't care to hear her. "Father's having a dinner party tonight with his three best friends and their families: the Remingtons, the Dodsons, and the Alaines. Mr. Dodson owns just about every fancy department store in the state. And you know Mr. Alaine; he is the mayor, after all. I think Henry Tate may be coming too..." Morgan's voice trailed off as she thought over the guest list for several moments.
Beyoncé's ears perked up at the mention of a familiar name. "Councilman Henry Tate?" she repeated.
"Unless some other Henry Tate is runnin' 'round Philadelphia... Yes, him." Morgan chuckled.
"Wow...this is strange," Beyoncé said to herself.
"What?" Morgan looked at Beyoncé, confused.
"Well— I never told you, but the police came knockin' on my door last Saturday," Beyoncé revealed.
"What?'" Morgan gasped. "Is everything okay?"
"I'm not sure. They were 'round the neighborhood, asking folks 'bout some man named Raymond who lives 'cross the street from me, saying he done raped Mary Tate, the Councilman's daughter." Beyoncé shook her head.
Morgan sighed sadly, preferring not to speak on the matter. After all, everywhere else she went, people were gossiping about it. "Yeah, my friends at college have been talking about it nonstop. Mary's such a gentle soul... It's shameful that any man could do such a thing to her."
Beyoncé looked at Morgan like she lost her mind. "You're saying that you believe all of that?"
"I don't know Raymond, but Councilman Tate swears up and down that Ray raped his daughter, and I believe him. He's a respectable man who serves our country well," Morgan shrugged.
"Well, I know Raymond; he'd never do such a thing. It's all one big lie," Beyoncé snapped. "Rumor has it that Ray and Mary were in love, and the Councilman found out. It's just his way of trying to get rid of Raymond for good."
"Don't be ridiculous! Mr. Tate is a stand-up man. He would never do such a thing!" Morgan would continue to defend the Councilman. He was a pillar of the community and someone she knew personally. "Also, Mary would never sneak around with a colored when she already has a boyfriend. He's one of Justin's old friends, Alex. There's NO WAY that Mary would cheat on him, much less with a colored." She repeated herself.
Beyoncé's eyes widened at Morgan's words. "I didn't mean it in a bad way, Bey! It's just that —she'd never shame her family by messin' with a colored, that's all." Morgan attempted to clean up what she meant.
Though Morgan earnestly attempted to console her friend, they both knew the words of encouragement were empty. Beyoncé was offended. There's nothing wrong with being with a colored woman.
Later that evening...
Beyoncé was curled up on the couch with a book on her lap, and her brother was sitting next to her, watching their father trying to fix their radio. The only sound between the four walls was scratchy static from the dysfunctional radio.
"Hey Bey, guess what?" Benjamin began excitedly, turning to his sister, whose eyes were glued to her book.
"What?" Beyoncé replied.
"Remember my old friend Robert?" He questioned.
"Who? Are you talking 'bout that hooligan who's been crushing on Beyoncé for years?" Mathew cut in before his daughter could respond.
Beyoncé laughed, shaking her head at her father. "Yeah, I remember him."
"Well, he came by the shop today to inspect his truck. We got 'round to talkin'; to catch up, and all. He asked 'bout you, wanted to know how you were doing," Benjamin revealed.
Mathew rolled his eyes. "That boy just doesn't know when to quit," Mathew remarked, glancing at his children, who sat on the couch. "That boy's a bum and has no business knowing how Beyoncés is doing."
"Ah, c'mon, Pop, he ain't that bad," Benjamin murmured as he dropped the subject. "Oh, Pop, I finally got to chat with Lucianne Neely today. We stopped for a little chat when I was walkin' home from the grocery store."
Mathew nearly dropped the radio on the carpet as he slowly pivoted so he could face his children. "You did what now, Benjamin?" He asked quietly through nearly gritted teeth.
Benjamin hadn't caught onto his father's change in mood, so he rephrased his last statement. "Lucianne and I talked today." Benjamin and Beyoncé were startled as their father's palm made contact with the wooden table in a fury.
Beyoncé looked up, alarmed. "Is everything...alright, Daddy?" She asked cautiously.
Mathew shot up out of his chair, rubbing his head. "I no longer want you talkin' to Lucianne," he demanded.
"But—" Benjamin was cut off.
"Hush!" Mathew bellowed, earning the complete attention of his children. "I don't want y'all even walkin' on their side of the street, you hear?" He looked between the two of them.
"Pop, you ain't makin' sense!" Benjamin furrowed his eyebrows.
"Daddy, tell us what's wrong. The Neely's are like kin," Beyoncé said.
Mathew shook his head vehemently, waving his hands. "No, Beyoncé, they ain't; not anymore. You two mark my words; the Neely's may live 'cross the street, but I don't want y'all anywhere near that house, you hear?" Neither of his children responded; instead, they sat on the sofa, confused and wide-eyed. Mathew lets out a labored sigh, deciding that composure may be the most effective in persuading his family. "The Neely's received a death threat this afternoon. A brick, with a letter attached, sailed straight through one of their side windows," he revealed.
Benjamin and Beyoncé looked at each other, hearing the news for the first time. Elliot's eyebrows came together. "But...Lucianne never mentioned that. And...now that I think about it, I never really looked at their house." Benjamin shook his head in disbelief.
" Why would someone do such a thing?" Beyoncé whispered in amazement.
"Y'all, I don't know much, and I don't wanna get involved. But I know the note told them they'd skip town if they knew what was good for them," Mathew replied.
"...Or else what?" Beyoncé asked quietly, though she already knew the answer.
"Or else the Klan would get their hands on 'em and have no mercy," Mathew spoke bluntly.
"Oh, God!" Beyoncé cried out as her brother reached for her hand to comfort her.
"If anything happens to the Neely's, I don't want y'all to be anywhere near that house. You know them Klan folk: they'll lynch a fellow and ask questions later. You two are all I got, and I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to y'all." Mathew became emotional.
Beyoncé nodded, understanding her father's disparity yet still had questions. "But why would the Klan be actin' now, Daddy? People have been talkin' 'bout Ray and that white girl for some time now. Yet, suddenly, the police are runnin' through the town, and the white folk are creating a stir. None of this is making any sense!" She was genuinely perplexed.
"Baby, the rumors are gettin' ugly now," Mathew stated.
"The word goin' 'round now is that Mary Tate's pregnant," Benjamin added.
Beyoncé's eyes widened. "No! I don't believe that for a second! You know how rumors are...m-maybe Councilman Tate is just saying that so it'll be easier to get rid of Ray! Or maybe that Mary is a filthy liar like her daddy—"
"No one knows for sure." Mathew interrupted solemnly. "But none of us are goin' to the Neely house to find out." He covered his face, unsure of what else there was to say. "Beyoncé, it's just...the Klan's too unpredictable. And we're much closer to that family than I want."
In frustration, Beyoncé pushed aside her book, resting her head on the back of the couch. "When were y'all gonna tell me all of this?" She asked, closing her eyes. The only response she received was silence; it'd stay that way for the rest of the night.
*************************
While Beyoncé Knowles was at home, spending a humble and straightforward evening with her family, Justin Dukes was forcing himself to stay attentive to the new tawdry discussions he was forced to partake in. He played the part of the rich and charming young man well, but tonight, it took all the energy he had to fool his prestigious guests.
"So, Justin, how are your summer courses coming along? Grateful for the ease in the workload?" Mayor Alaine asked, patting the young man heartily on the back.
Justin choked on his wine as the large man slapped him from behind. Clearing his throat, he answered promptly. "Yes sir, I am grateful, though they're practically over. My senior year is startin' soon, so I'm even more grateful that this coming year is my last in university." Though Justin was serious, the four men around him (his father included) laughed at various intensities.
"Then you're ready to take over the family business, huh?" Mr. Remington joked.
Justin smiled politely. "No sir, not yet."
"Justin's just being modest." Justin's father, David, cut in quickly. He looked at his son before continuing. "In no time, Justin will be downtown with me, second in command of Dukes' Real Estate. But, until then, he'll be partaking in an exclusive internship, which starts this fall, and become part of the company as soon as he graduates," he said.
"So soon?" Mayor Alaine questioned.
"Of course! He'll need to put that business degree to work." David smiled.
The men nodded approvingly before changing the subject matter, causing Justin to become even more disinterested. He turned slightly, surveying the room for the thousandth time that night, but he didn't see her. He tried to get a glimpse past the kitchen when his gaze collided with the watchful eye of his curious cousin. She stood at the opposite side of the room, conversing and giggling with her girlfriends. She mouthed a quick "What is it?" But Justin swiftly turned away, pretending that he hadn't seen her.
"Right, Morgan?" Vivian asked with a giggle, nudging her oblivious friend.
Morgan tore her gaze from Justin, jostled by Vivian's continuous bumping. "Yes...of course, Vivian," Morgan answered with a forced smile. "Excuse me, but I'm just gonna go and use the restroom; I'll be right back," she explained hastily before exiting the room.
While Vivian listened to the different conversations throughout the room, Morgan reappeared. "Look, I think we're starting," Morgan said, pointing to the front of the room where David stood, holding his hands for silence as the dinner party guests turned to their host in anticipation of further instructions.
The three families quietly followed David in the dining room, chatting as they entered the ornate space. He walked to his chair, which sat at the head of the table, with Justin and Morgan taking their seats on either side.
"Oh, Vivian! Come sit next to me," Morgan asked excitedly, patting the unoccupied chair beside her. Justin gave his cousin a look, revealing his confusion as Vivian practically skipped to the end of the table. Justin turned his head in the opposite direction as Vivian sat, not wanting to make eye contact with her. However, he didn't turn quickly enough and caught the flirtatious wink. This was going to be a long night for him.
The next day...
It was another Saturday, and instead of relaxing and having fun like the rest of her peers, Beyoncé was running errands for her family. Not only did she have to go by the pharmacy to refill her father's pain medication again, but she had to go to the grocery store to buy food for dinner that night, and she was already running behind schedule.
The familiar chime of the bells attached to the pharmacy door greeted her as she entered quickly. The owner and pharmacist, Mrs. Mealy, could be seen in the front restocking the shelves.
"Beyoncé!" The older woman nearly sang with a bright smile, always happy to see her favorite customer.
"How are you doing, Mrs. Mealy?" Beyoncé spoke.
"Just fine. And you?" she asked.
Well, I feel like my world is crumbling 'round me, and there aint a thing I can do to stop it. But besides that, everything's just peachy! "Alright, I guess." She replied with a shrug. "Daddy isn't, though; I came to refill his prescription," she explained, handing the woman the pill bottle.
Mrs. Mealy invited Beyoncé to follow her to the back counter, where all the prescriptions were held. "He's not working today, is he?"
Beyoncé shook her head. "No, he and Benjamin both work Saturdays. That's the only day I have to do errands for the house." Though Mrs. Mealy had disappeared behind the tall shelves, Beyoncé could hear her clucking tongue.
"Tell your father that he ain't a youngin' anymore. God only gave him one back, and sometimes all medicine can do is keep the achin' away!" She replied.
The pharmacist reappeared with the refill as a crowd of customers walked in. "Hi, y'all!" She greeted. Suddenly, a bright smile pushed the wrinkles up on her face as she moved from behind the tall white counters.
"Justin Dukes?" The older woman exclaimed in disbelief when she spotted him, nearly running to embrace the customer who had just entered her shop.
Beyoncé knew it could only be one Justin Dukes. Why did she always run into him at the worst times? She didn't dare turn around, as she felt the blood in her cheeks drain and her hands turn icy. She could hear Mrs. Mealy pat Justin's broad back as she squeezed him in a tight hug.
"Beyoncé, dear, I assume you know Justin?" Mrs. Mealy asked excitedly, rubbing his shoulder.
Beyoncé's lip curled as she realized she must face Mrs. Mealy and Justin. She did slowly, finding an extremely smug Justin and an exuberant Mrs. Mealy. She gave no response to the pharmacist's question, so he offered his own.
"Yes, ma'am, Beyoncé and I know each other," Justin spoke unenthused. Beyoncé looked away from his piercing gaze as she felt all the anger she had been suppressing swell up once again.
"I've known Justin since he was a boy, now. He'd pop in once a week with his nanny to get a sucker from me. Now he's a man, and he's forgotten 'bout lil' ol' me." Mrs. Mealy softly chided.
"No, that's not true." Justin chuckled.
Beyoncé cleared her throat as she put the money for the prescription on the counter, addressing the woman as Justin watched her intently. "Well, Mrs. Mealy, I've gotta run now. Have a nice afternoon."
"What, you're leaving already? We hardly had the chance to speak," she frowned.
Beyoncé turned around quickly as she continued walking. "We'll catch up next time, I promise." The older woman blinked a couple of times, turning to Justin, who watched Beyoncé open the pharmacy door, nearly running into a man on his way in.
"That was strange..." Mrs. Mealy noted.
Justin nodded as he snapped his fingers. "Forgive me, Mrs. Mealy, but I forgot my wallet in my car."
"Don't be silly, Justin. You can have anything you need, free of charge," she giggled.
"I couldn't! I'll be happy to pay...I just have to run to my car." Justin moved quickly, not giving the woman a second chance to object to his departure. Tearing out of the pharmacy as soon as Beyoncé had, he stopped, looking both ways down the sidewalk for her. After a few moments, he caught her speed-walking to his right and wasted no time catching up with her. "Beyoncé," he called out as quietly as he could.
Beyoncé didn't bother looking back as Justin brushed past a couple who had to jump out of his way. "Beyoncé, I know you can hear me!" He raised his voice impatiently. Finally gaining enough speed, he managed to get in front of her, causing her to stop short.
"Why are you followin' me?" She asked, agitated, as she clutched onto her purse, looking around the area.
"We need to talk." Justin sighed.