Of One Womb: The Essence of Two Families

Chapter 1

The two of them sat side by side at the dining room table, just looking at each other. Fear shone in Dorothy’s eyes, a fear mixed with excitement and dread. Jesse, Dorothy’s husband, was more curious than anything else. Although, he was well aware of what this letter could mean to Dorothy. This knowledge, caused his stomachs to churn. They had no doubt that their love for each other, would get them through whatever turmoil, and pain, this piece of paper would bring into their lives. Their children, Robert Antoine and Barbara, would also have some say in the ultimate outcome. Twenty two years was a long time to wait for this shoe to drop, but the day had finally arrived.

Minden Louisiana, twenty eight years earlier.

It’s late Fall of the year 1967. It’s football season in this quaint little town of Minden Louisiana. It’s Friday night, and Minden High School is hosting its bitter rival, the Homer High School, Pelicans. Homer Louisiana is a slightly smaller town than Minden, and as such, the school football team has a shallower pool of players to pull from when fielding a team. Tonight, Homer leads Minden, 20 to 16, with 12 seconds left in the fourth quarter.

Minden has the ball and is driving. The ball is on the Homer 18 yard line and it’s 3rd down with three yards to go for a first down, when Minden’s coach, Tom Messmore calls a time out and barks out instructions to quarterback Salem Hall and wide receiver Fred Tucker on the sideline.

Returning to the field, Salem calls the play in the huddle, and the offense lined up. Peter Franks snapped the ball and Fred drives on the D-back and pushes him to the eight-yard line. He plants his foot, turns outward toward the sidelines. The ball is in the air already, and slightly to Fred’s right. He makes the adjustment and reaches for the spiraling ball. It hits his hands squarely, bounces off and out of bound. He’d dropped passes in the past but had improved in the last few games. He’d been bugging the coach to give him the starting job, next year. The scuttlebutt was, next year, schools would be integrated, and there was a receiver on the colored team in Minden that was touted to be the best in the state. He thought that it would ruin his life, if he was beaten out, by a Nigger. As inefficient as he was, he was the best receiver on the Rebels. Willard Cain, the other receiver, was primarily a decoy. In this situation, Fred was the only option.

The down was now forth and eighteen, with six seconds left in the game, time enough for one more play. The ball must be thrown into the end zone for a touchdown, or the game is lost. Coach Messmore, calls his last time out and calls the players to the sideline for final play instructions.

Fourth and eighteen, said coach Messmore. We have six seconds men, one more play. We’ve gotta go for the TD or we’ll come up short. Time’s run out men! This next play either ends our season, or extends it into the state playoffs. It’s up to us. He grabs Fred’s face mask and pulls him in close, staring into his eyes for a brief moment. Fred, I want you to run a 15 yard post pattern. He looks over at Willard. Willard, you do a 10 yard corner patterns. Do it hard and crisp. Refocusing on Fred, Let Willard make his cut first. That should draw the safety, and free up the middle. He turned to the quarterback, Salem, I want you to play action, and, pump fake to Willard. Fred should be open over the middle. Coach then looked around the huddle. This is our last shot men, if we run this right, we should beat these yokels. Linemen! You’ve got to give Salem some time! Okay? He raised his voice to a scream. What-do-you-say men? We gonna let these hicks beat us?"

With one voice, the team roared. NO!!

Well, get out there and get it done!! Said Coach.

The team rushed back onto the field and lined up. The whistle blew, and Salem barked out the count.

Hut, Hut, Hut.

On the third Hut, the ball was snapped. The play clock started and the play was in motion. Fred fired off the line of scrimmage. He sprinted down the field and saw the safety leave his position in the middle. ‘He must have taken the fake.’ The D-back backpedaled as fast as he could. Fred took a jab step to the right, faked a look over his right shoulder. The D-back turned his hips. Instantly, Fred planted his right foot and turned toward the goalpost in the back of the end zone. Turning his head, he looked over his left shoulder for the ball.

Salem had faked the throw to Willard and saw the safety take it. He threw the ball toward the end zone in anticipation that Fred would be a few yards in, when the ball arrived. Everything looked perfect when Salem released the ball. Fred had beaten his man and should be able to catch up with the ball without difficulty.

Fred was in the clear and saw the ball early. ‘I’m free. I told Coach that I could do it. I’m gonna be the big man in town tonight.’

All Fred had to do was to keep driving to the point of reception. However, he extended his arms too soon and lost his momentum. Instantly, he realized what he’d done, and tried to recover. His attempt to regain his speed, caused his upper body to stiffen, and his arms and hands to become tense. He got to the spot in time for the catch, but was so tense, the ball touched his fingers, bounced away and fell to the ground. The shrill sound of the game ending whistle penetrated Fred’s consciousness The clock had ran out, the game ended.

Fred, slumped to the ground, heartbroken. The team and the fans slumped in dejection in their seats. No one moved except one cheerleader. Dorothy Walker ran toward the fallen Fred Tucker and dropped to her knees beside him.

Over and over again she whispered into his ear. Its okay Fred, I love you.

He lay there for several minutes, looking for the courage to get up, go into the locker room and face the team. Ten minutes passed. The stands had emptied before Dorothy could coax him to his feet and off the field. Hand in hand, they walked across the field, past the concession stand, to the home team locker room. Fred let go of Dorothy’s hand and pulled open the door . A deafening silence, greeted him.

Early November 1968

Minden High was the visiting team this year. Another hard fought game had taken place on the home field of Homer High. It had been much like last year’s game except the score was 24-20, favoring Homer. Minden has the ball but had not been able to move it for the last three quarters.

Integration had begun in both small towns at the beginning of the school year. Contention between the races raged for positions and playing time at the beginning of the football season, but had worked themselves out to some degree, as the players came together in an effort to win. Marginal players of both races, fell by the wayside as tryouts progressed. Necessarily, player positions had to be changed as the two teams were melded into one. For some, it was a bitter pill to swallow when positions were lost, or players were relegated to backup roles. A backup role was destined for Fred Tucker, due to the play of several of the colored players. He didn’t take the demotion well.

When the season began however, Coach Messmore had put together a fairly good football team. Fred’s presence, managed to keep racial tension festering throughout the team like an open sore.

Because of the greater number of quality black athletes on the Pelicans team, and their better overall record, they lead the division by one game. If Minden, beats Homer, the division championship goes to Minden. Coach Messmore again, called the team to the sideline with his final timeout. This time, there are only 4 seconds left on the clock. A third down with 8 yards to go for a touchdown loomed. He barked at number 80, Taylor Norton, to run a slant across the middle of the field.

Taylor, had much better hands than Fred. He also had speed to burn, but had not often been thrown to, because of the friendship between Salem the QB, and Fred. In this situation, Salem had to throw to him, if he wanted to win the game and the championship.

The play was called and the team lined up. Hut, hut. The center snapped the ball. Taylor ran the slant toward the goal line. Salem quickly threw toward a spot he thought the receiver could get to. Taylor saw the ball in flight and seemed to increased his speed. Low and fast went the ball toward a vacated spot in the end zone. Taylor dove and extended his 6 foot frame and long arms as far as he could. In the middle of this dive, he cupped his fingers, forming a basket, allowing the football to nestle in, as in a glove. Body, still in mid-air, he pulled the ball into his belly and curled around it, in the fetal position. His body slammed into the ground, ball secure in his middle. Touchdown!!

The whistle blew, as the official raised his hands, the umpire signaled GAME OVER.

Shouts rose from visiting team bleachers that could be heard for miles. Parents of the players and visiting students shook the bleachers to the point of near collapse. Some parents forgot themselves and hugged each other across the color line. Cheerleaders did cartwheels and back flips with endless energy. Players rolled on the ground yelling, laughing and crying. Black and white players hugged and banged each other on the pads in joyous camaraderie. But, not Fred.

Dorothy didn’t notice the celebrations. She saw only Fred. He sat alone on the bench, head buried in his hands.

‘Those cheers should have been for me!’ Thought Fred.

Although Taylor had proven over and over again that he was the better athlete and position player, Fred could not get over being replaced by a Nigger. He would never forget nor forgive Coach, or the blacks on the team for making him feel inferior.

Dorothy’s focus was on Fred. To comfort him was all that mattered. After all, they were to be together for the rest of their lives. They had already talked about getting married soon after graduation, in June. Fred had promised, he had a very important question to ask her. While everyone was still happy about the outcome of the Homer game, the Rebels lost the very next week in the state playoffs. Never the less, Fred couldn’t let go of his perceived slight at the hands of Coach Messmore. He suffered through the next six and a half months of his senior year of high school, doing everything he could to show his teammates and his school, his displeasure.

June 1969, Graduation day

On the day of graduation, Fred asked Dorothy to marry him as he’d promised. They set a date for the end of June; three weeks after graduation. Dorothy was beside herself with happiness. Her smiles were bigger, her words were softer and there seemed to be a glow about her. Every waking thought was about her impending marriage. She went about, shopping for bridesmaid dresses, flowers, and a cake. Pictures had to be taken. The cost of a professional, was outside of her budget, so she asked a friend to ask her father if he’d do it, he agreed. Friend and family had to be located and invited. Her mother, Dedra and her aunt Lucille collaborated on her dress, spending a wonderful two weeks making it. Mrs. Tucker, Fred’s mother took care of scheduling the reception location and the menu.

Dorothy saw herself living the rest of her life in this quaint little town, surrounded by their families, raising a family of their own, and becoming part of Minden history. They married on the 27th of June. The church was filled with their friends, the entire football team, except for the black players, and of course, coach Messmore. Fred hadn’t forgotten, nor forgiven.

Dorothy’s uncle Fagan, walked her down the aisle, and her mother Dedra, gave her away. When the minister pronounced them husband and wife, they locked in each other’s arms in a passionate embrace and kiss. Looking, for all, the world, to be a couple who would be together and dedicated to each other until the end of time.

Thomas Tucker, Fred’s Father, slipped a bottle of Champaign in the suitcase of his son, just prior to putting it in the trunk of the taxi that took Fred and his new bride, the 30 miles to the Airport in Shreveport. He’d arranged for them to honeymoon in a quaint little hotel, down in New Orleans. He’d also arranged for a couple of sight-seeing trip to help them pass away the days. He assumed that the nights would take care of themselves. His son’s ability to handle money, in Thomas’s mind, was suspect. So, he had the hotel charge everything to his office in Minden. He did put three hundred dollars in Fred’s pocket, for incidentals. Knowing that his son drank beer, he contracted one of the bellhops to provide him with a six pack per day, as another gift.

As the bellhop closed the door on his way out, the newly weds looked at each and fell into each others arms in a first time alone, kiss. Fred’s hands came alive as they explored Dorothy’s body, her softness. He reached for the hem of her dress and pulled it up around her buttocks, bunching it around her waist.

Though the experience of Fred’s hands attempting to feel up her body, wasn’t new to her, Dorothy fought the urge to push his hands away and get a little separation between their bodies. ‘It’s all right for him to do this now, we’re married.’ She thought. ‘But, I needed more time to prepare myself for what he evidently, has in mind.

"Fred, can we get something to eat first? I was too excited to eat anything at the reception. Can you order up something from room service and let me take a bath before we ma… before we make love? I want my first time to be perfect for you and for me. I want to be clean and sweet smelling for you. Can’t we wait just a little while longer so we can eat a little something, and I can bathe? I promise, you won’t be disappointed. I’ve got a nightgown that’s going to get you really excited. Can we wait just a little bit, please?

‘I’ve been put off for one reason or other, for four fucking years. Damned if I’m gonna be put off another fucking minute with her bullshit excuses’ Were the thoughts coursing through his mind. But a voice invading his thoughts, was that of his father, and the conversation they’d had a few days earlier. Look son, I know it’s not your way to be unselfish, but you’ve got to be compassionate on your wedding night. Especially if what you tell me is true, that your bride is still a virgin. If she ask you to be patient and to wait for her to get ready, you wait. It ain’t gonna kill you. If you don’t, you’ll regret it for the rest of your married life.’

He removed his hand from the waistband at the back of Dorothy’s panties. Okay Dorothy Tucker! (This was the first time he’d used her title.) I’ll wait, but not for long, mind you. I’ll order up some dinner and unpack while you do whatever it is that you have to do, Okay? But don’t make me wait too long, cause you know I ain’t a patient man.

After retrieving a small package from her suite case, Dorothy scurried into the bathroom. Out of habit, she locked the door. Quickly, she started the water for her bath then turned back to the package and unzipped it. She removed sheer undergarments, bubble bath, bath oil and KY Jell. Removing her clothing, she surveyed the spacious bathroom for a place to hang the clothing she’d just removed, poured the bubble and bath oils into the half filled tub, then stooped and tested the water temperature. She stood looking into the mirrored wall over the sink, at her reflection. A look of apprehension, shone in her eyes, she smiled. ‘You’re going to be a little frightened as you prepare for your wedding night honey, but you’ll get through it and you may even enjoy it.’ Came her mother’s voice. She knew that in the next hour or so, she would become a Woman. She smiled again at that thought, then turned from the mirror, removed her bra and panties, then stepped into the tub.

Out in the bedroom area, Fred found the bottle of Champaign, looked around and found the bucket of ice that contained a bottle of sparkling cider. He removed the cider and replaced it with the Champaign, then stood there for a couple of minutes, turning the bottle in the cold, iced water. A knock at the door signaled the arrival of room service. He opened the door to the bellhop pushing a tray containing a setting for two of a popular local fare. In addition, the bellhop reached under the draped tray and produced a gift wrapped, six pack of ‘Lone Star’.

Complements of your father, Sir.

As the bellhop closed the door behind him, Fred, still smiling, extracted a bottle from the six-pack of beer, opened one and took a long swig that half emptied the bottle. He looked around for the television, and turned it on. The unpacked suite case still lay on the bed. He downed the remainder of the beer, then got off the bed to get another. He went back to the bed, picked up the suite case, deposited it on the stand and repositioned himself against the headboard. A whiskey commercial on the TV, reminded him of the chilling bottle of Champaign. He also thought about his new bride. ‘It’s been twenty minutes since she went into the damn bath room.’ He thought. He got up from the bed and walked over to the bathroom and banged on the door panel.

Dorothy? How much longer you gonna be in there? Dad sent a bottle of Champaign, to help us celebrate. Come on outta there and have some with me.

Dorothy was startled by the banging on the door. She was deep into a fantasy, attempting to prepare for the loss of her virginity.

I’ll only be a few more minutes Fred. Why don’t you have a sip of the Champaign? I won’t be long now.

Okay, but hurry the hell up! I’m getting tired of waiting for my bride.

He turned from the bathroom door to the Champaign bucket, opened the bottle with a muffled pop, pored himself a glass, took a big sip and reclined again upon the bed. Two beers and a glass of Champaign now filled his bladder. Now he had to pee, He got off the bed, and retraced his steps to the bathroom door. Dorothy, come on outta there, I gotta pee. If you don’t let me in, I’m gonna have to find something in this room to piss in. He said loudly.

The banging on the door and the threat of peeing into something out in the room, alarmed Dorothy enough that she immediately, rose from her warm bath and reached for the robe hanging on the back of the door.

I’m coming Fred, please don’t pee into anything.

Ignoring the items still lying on the sink counter, she cinched up the robes belt around her waist, unlocked the door and stepped through, to the bedroom. She was still dripping wet. Fred rushed past her, and without closing the door and proceeded to relieve himself in the toilet bowl. When he’d finished, he turned back to Dorothy who still had her back to him. He walked up behind her, wrapped his arms around and lifted her off her feet