Chapter 17 - Page 249 - Trouble In Chicago

   Jim scowled at the man. "When I get back to Dallas," Jim said, "I'll see to it that no driver ever delivers to this company again."

   "You drivers are all alike," the man replied. "This is your first delivery to this company and you think you can stop your company from delivering here."

   Jim wordlessly turned to leave.

   "Driver," the man said, "you best not leave with that load on your truck."

   Jim, Rhasha, and Shanha walked out of the warehouse and climbed into the truck. Jim took a moment to update his log book. Rhasha fidgeted with the gearshift knob. Shanha was being very quiet.

   "Sweetheart," Rhasha finally asked, "what does nigger mean?"

   "Yeah, Papa," Shanha added, "it sure made you mad, when that man called us niggers."

   "I've never seen you mad before," Rhasha said. "I hope you never get mad at me like that."

   Shanha placed her hand on Jim's cheek. "Me too."

   Jim smiled. He wondered how to explain racism to them.

   He glimpsed a forklift driving through the warehouse door, and watched it drive around to the back of his truck, where it parked. Another forklift pulled out of the warehouse and parked in front of his truck. Jim's truck was pinned between the two forklifts. Jim knew what the forklift drivers were up to, but decided to answer Rhasha's question. "Girls," he said, "prejudiced white people, those who still live in the stone age, call black people that name. It's not a nice name. It makes them feel superior, to put black people down. There are also prejudiced black people, who call white people honkies."

   A man got off the front forklift and walked over to Jim's window. Jim recognized the gruff-voiced man he'd had the altercation with in the warehouse. "That truck's not leaving this yard until I get it unloaded," the man said, looking cocky. "That will be at least ten hours from now."