AND, Part 4 Transcript.

(00:27)
The following program is a fictional story. While certain characters may bear a resemblance to or be based on actual people, this is a piece of art and does not claim to represent or impersonate any real-life person. While some of the events portrayed may be based on real-life events, they are not meant to be an accurate depiction of historical or current news events.

(01:09)
A Next Day, an Afrofuturist series by J.L. Roberts, part four.

Cyan. I don’t really have another word for it other than knowing. It’s hard to explain without someone thinking that you’re talking about God or being psychic or something. Intuition seems pretty close. It is close, but it’s more than that. That’s another part of all of this. We need new dictionaries. Wait, before we get too sidetracked,

Can we talk about how we do the becoming in the room, a room? Look at you understanding already. It may seem small, but we use the a lot in our day-to-day speech. And without being aware of it, I think it limits our thinking. The means only the way we use it most often, like how the end of the world supposes that there’s only one option. The many worlds theory says,

that there are as many options as what we can imagine. So shifting from THE to A creates new dimensions of possibility. Hey, that’s a good point. Sam, don’t let them recruit me tonight. No matter what I say later, do not let me go home to Jay and Miss Gladys’ homestead. But the becoming in a room, you’re not going to like this.

But becoming is a slow and deliberate process, especially at first. Of course it is, because how else could you get me to hang out with you again? I don’t think they’re holding you hostage. I was working and they were drinking, so I was a little more trapped. You’re free as a bird. Hey, I said, shoving Sam’s shoulder playfully. You kept coming back.

and you enjoyed our little mixology game. It’s true. I did. I admit it.

See, that was a moment of becoming. What? How? What we do in a room is we tell our truths. We break down the walls and the armor that this world has made us build up. And we don’t leave our vulnerability in jokes. We don’t laugh at ourselves and others as though we are sitcoms and not humans. We are always joking and pretending and performing. We have forgotten who we are.

as humans, many of us never got to meet ourselves in the first place. So therapy, a room is group therapy. Therapy is a white Western concept. A room is becoming. Our only goal is belonging in humanity and community. A room is leaving behind norms and diagnoses and shoulds.

and talking about what’s real for us and eventually what we would like to become.

So what you’re saying is you don’t know what will happen in a room. You don’t have a plan for what to do once we’re in a room. You think something will magically happen? There will be magic, but no, a room is not without structure. There’s a lot of homework in a room. At least that’s where we left off before you came over. It’s not homework, it’s self-exploration.

and it’s self-guided. Nobody is going to make you do or say anything you don’t want to do or say. Homework is mandatory. Becoming will happen because it is what happens when humans have their basic needs met, when they feel seen and understood and accepted. I have a feeling a lot of people come up to you and tell you their problems. It used to happen a lot more often.

But since we haven’t had an election in like five years, people are much more guarded. Yeah, you never know what will be illegal next.

People are afraid and they’re starved for human connection. Right now we’re all worrying and angrying and tireding separately in our nuclear families, our apartments, our cars. So how exactly do you expect to get people into rooms to bare their souls? I expect that people will self-select in and I expect that it will happen slowly.

slowly your favorite pace. It’s not my pace. It’s the pace of the universe. Whiteness and capitalism have created the illusion of quickness. Everything is urgent because they say so. The dynamic pricing changes every 30 seconds at the grocery store. Shopping in person has become a game of hungry, hungry hippos. Yeah.

That’s why I just order my groceries to be delivered. It’s so cheap and it saves me the circus of it all. The delivery drivers are being paid slave wages. I met one last week who lives in the tenements under the freeway and works 14 hours a day. Geez, they certainly haven’t been reporting that in the news. What news? You mean the daily dose of propaganda? Exactly. We don’t even know what’s real anymore.

It’s all controlled. I saw a story about the employee housing that Amazonia is opening. And did you see the requirements? You have to do a physical, complete with blood work, sign over the rights to your likeness and voice, and you get paid in Amazonia cash. So you can only buy things from Amazonia. I mean, they are offering health insurance, which a lot of people need.

But what are they actually offering for you to go to the company doctor? And what happens if the company doctor finds that you are sick or that you drink too much? The release for the health insurance says you have to waive your HIPAA rights. What? That’s wild. A lot of people are so desperate that they’re going to sign their whole lives away. Can you imagine?

signing your whole life away just so you can exist? Unfortunately, I can. We’re watching it happen every day. I had hoped that there’d be an R, you know, but whiteness is a more chronic disease than I thought. You’d better be careful. I looked around. I actually have a device that detects listening devices and cameras. It vibrates in my pocket when there’s one close enough to hear me.

That’s why I like this place. There’s an eccentric man who owns the building and lives upstairs and he has jammers and good cybersecurity. Is he one of your recruits too? No, he’s a cis man. There are no men in my plan for saving us. Finally, you’re speaking my language. That’s the smartest part of this yet.

You’re not going to be able to fuck your way through our community, you know. I’m not a player. I just crush a lot. We all chuckled. I’m serious. If we’re going to build and maintain community, you won’t be able to discard people after you’ve gotten your release. You’ll have to see them at breakfast the next day and afternoon chores and every day after that. Damn. ⁓

Maybe I won’t make it then. You’ll have to make choices for sure. So wait, no men? Like none? Llewellyn agrees that it’s too dangerous. Who? ⁓ the quack upstairs. He’s not a quack. When you have to go around saying are because your government has outlawed the word. I looked around once more and after scanning for safety, I whispered,

Revolution. The quacks are the sane ones and the sane ones are the quacks for giving up all their rights without a fight. It’s true. I’m deaf, not made to be a sheep. Me either. That’s why I’ve spent so much time thinking about this, thinking and planning for different outcomes. Is that why you said you didn’t know if you wanted to keep going? You got a cyanide capsule in that chain around your neck.

I looked down at my chain and then back up at Karen. Actually, I do not cyanide, something else plant-based. Are you serious? My autonomy is of the utmost importance to me, including my right to die. If that’s what I choose. Okay. I’m going to need to sit with that one for a minute said Sam.

looking worried and rubbing their eyes with their thumb and middle finger. I am not willing to live under any circumstances, I said. And by that, I mean that there are many things that could happen that would make life unbearable for me. If I don’t find community, if Giovanni’s room doesn’t come to fruition and another country will not take me, I’m not going to allow myself to be enslaved again.

What do you mean again? I mean that all of the cells in my body know intuitively, ancestrally what enslavement is. And I say, no, I say never again. Facts. I feel the same way, honestly. Me too. If you try to take me, one of us is dying. Yup. Thus the poison in the capsule.

Okay, maybe you’re not crazy. Maybe I am. Maybe crazy is what you have to be to survive the end of a world.

Fuchsia We had Kara’s return ceremony before lunch. Well, it is a three-day ritual in total Today was the first day When people return or die outside of our communities in the more contaminated zones We have no choice but to cremate them Karen was manning the drone that found me and Kara

and seven guardians came to bring Kara’s body back to Giovanni’s room and assist me in my injured state, though I was not injured so much as reborn and brand new. Our protective suits are made of a very strong hemp fabric created by some of our members, and they keep us safe from polluted air, acidic rain, and the PFAS pesticides that Monsanto blankets its crops with.

It is rumored that it is the pesticides that are the key to the diabetes and the breakdown in the seeds. Sam is convinced that Monsanto is purposely ruining the seeds so that they’ll have a monopoly on produce. We stay up to date on what is left of America, though without elections, without public services or a fully functioning military, without work that pays a living wage, the USA

has been over for quite a while. Monsanto, Amazonia, and some conglomerate hedge fund called Jubilant are the whole of the United States of America now. Fencemart used to be the fourth major corporation, but its employees organized a nationwide protest last year that ended in more than 3,000 stores being burned to the ground. And the construction and contractors union

refused to rebuild them, which took Fencemart out of the game for good.

Kara’s return began with a lighting of a fire and a wailing ritual. Her room did a beautiful job preparing her body in her earthen quilt. Before her flesh was lowered into the fire for cremation, Rose read Kara’s return letter. Every member of Giovanni’s room writes a return letter. It is a message of farewell to the earth and the spirits we’ve loved.

and shared community with while visiting this place. A given room may have its own beliefs and practices, and there are some rites and rituals that are community wide. Earthen quilts are fiber and clay capsules made for cremations. Bodies are encased in them to facilitate the incineration of flesh and organs without the particles rising into the air.

It is a precaution against contamination and reminds us that we come and go as a part of the earth. The capsules are usually decorated by the room that the returned belongs to with flowers and creatures and necklaces woven from the fibers we dry and produce in our communities. Fireweed bouquets are placed around the fire site.

An angustifolium tea is brewed and sweetened with honey for us all to drink after we dance to release the pieces of the returned that we may carry within us and send their spirit off joyfully. Kara had updated her letter just before her mission. I was relieved at this, for she gave loving time and space for Dani in her words of farewell.

I did not choose to fight the keeper of the masses label on this first day. And I held Danny in my arms as Rose struggled through the reading. I give you my greatest love, permission to hold onto a little piece of me. I know that this means I may not become what I am to become next without thinking of you.

being tied to you, Danny, and that is a risk that I am willing to take. If you need to keep a piece of me, keep it, but promise me that you will dance. Dance for me like we did under the stars on the night you first admitted the nature of the energy between us. Dance like the wind that came and took your skirt up to reveal that you were commando underneath. Dance.

And remember how we both laughed, how you yelled for me to help you instead of turning away. The wind has always been my favorite element. Being an Air Force pilot had been the happiest time I had spent on this earth until I met you. Dance with the wind when I am gone and I will watch my two loves together.

and be at peace.

There was a second wailing when Rose finished. Her voice broke and tears streamed down her face as she read the last words. We all sobbed and wailed and wiped at our wet faces until a dancer was called to begin a release dance. Anna was Kara’s dancer and she did a beautiful job. She is an energetically sensitive and sweet hearted girl

flows with grace. She stood before the fire, watching it first, then moving, then dancing to the beat of Kara’s return, her becoming, and little by little, the drums began. The footsteps followed, and we danced to honor and send off our dear friend. We danced as birds. We fluttered as hummingbirds. We twirled as butterflies, and then

We joined hands and danced round and round the fire. The angustifolium tasted strongly of calendula, as that is the flower we have had most success rehabilitating, and we grow it in all of our communities. As the sun began to set and we sipped warm tea and told our tales of Kara, our meeting and communing and knowing of her.

Danny fell asleep in my lap. Looking down at her tight curls, her tired face, I could almost see her as a young girl. No doubt her hair was pressed and ponytailed for church. No doubt her dress was always clean. She has a beautiful voice, which once she used to lead a Baptist choir. And seeing her then like that,

I could not imagine that she had ever been freer, younger than she was in that moment, full of love, full of grief, exhausted at how long it took her to meet herself, only for love to rise up into the heavens with the ashes of the fire. The mullin candles were lit next and the passing ceremony began.

When a community member returns to the earth, in addition to their return letter, they leave a list of who is to receive which of their earthly possessions. The youth of our communities are the most frequent recipients, as we believe in nurturing and preparing the next generations. And we respect and revere the contribution their being brings to humans on earth. Kara.

bequeathed something to all 10 children among our rooms and a few more things to some of the day school children that she had tutored. She left a few things for Danny as well and for me and Sam. We end day one of return rituals with singing. Kara’s room chose a song taught to us by a Mohawk teacher from the last lands we occupied.

We understand who we are

We know where we came from. We accept and understand our destiny here on Mother Earth.

We are spirit having a human experience

We sang until our throats ached. The waning moon rose above the pyre of smoke that Kara’s fire had quieted into. We lit our room’s candles from the remaining flames and the coals were placed for the evening to ensure the completion of her cremation. We walked in single file lines back to our rooms, singing and humming and eager for rest.

Goldenrod. We sat quietly eating our pizza for a while after the poisoned capsule reveal. It was the thing we were all trying not to think about. Death. Ending. Going. Return. Sober and fully awake now and being strangled by her own anxiety, Karen finally broke the silence. So you really think you’re gonna need that thing? Like in our lifetime?

You think it’ll get that bad? I think it could get that bad if I’m alone, if we’re all alone. But you have family or something. Can’t you go and be with them? Are you going to go and be with your family? I asked her. She turned her head slightly away, trying to hide a painful expression and then looked back at me, mouth open.

unable to find words.

I wasn’t trying to say that you were alone. I was making the point that that family doesn’t really mean anything. Sam finished my sentence. For me, it’s that living with my family falls under the umbrella of unbearable circumstances. They’re perfectly okay people in the grand scheme of things, but they’re all ignoring and numbing and cruising their way to the end.

quite literally where my parents are concerned. They just keep putting more money into securing the house, buying more guns, and acting like what’s happening isn’t happening.

Every time something else becomes illegal, they shrug and say that they don’t do that thing anyway, so it doesn’t matter. And then they book another cruise to distract themselves from the truth. Your parents can afford to go on cruises? They really can’t afford it, no. But they have pensions and the predatory lenders convinced them that they still can. And they were teenagers when they started having kids. Now that their kids are grown,

They are teenagers once more. Hell of a time to be in arrested development, but they don’t hear anything I say. So I’ve given up trying. Damn. Yeah, they might’ve been able to scrape together enough to get out four cruises ago, you know, but I think they’re just going to ride it out to whatever end here in the USA. My parents say they’re too old to leave.

My dad’s in pretty bad shape and my mom is just tired. I don’t know my parents. My last foster mom is the closest thing I’ve got, but she’s white and she gets paid by the state to keep kids. She could never find the money to leave on her own. The equifinality of aloneness is both comforting and maddening.

Equifinality? The idea that many, many different paths can lead to the same place. We can be born into different circumstances, different families in different parts of the country and still all end up in the same aloneness. Yeah, but you’ve got a sweet deal with Miss Gladys. You’ll be fine. Without a community, nobody will be fine.

Ms. Gladys and I won’t be able to fend off looters, rapists, kidnappers, and the fascist government. Not on our own. You say it like things are that bad. Things will get that bad. They’re already that bad in some places. We’re just not hearing about it on the news. You’d have to live in those places to know it or hear by word of mouth.

I use a VPN sometimes to check the global news, but they’re cracking down on that too, so I can only stay on for a few minutes a month. This is why community will be more and more important. Community will be how information is disseminated, how resources are shared. A bag of rice is already $20. A bag of rice is $20 with community or without it. I don’t understand.

If I have a hundred dollars and you have a hundred and someone else has 50, one person could spend their whole hundred on wholesale rice, another on wholesale beans and another on wholesale garlic. We could feed more people a full meal together than we could ever afford separately. You really have thought this through. The beans and rice is just the beginning. In a way it’s a metaphor for a community as a whole.

One person who moves with urgency, another who values slowness and thinking things through, another who can shoot first and ask questions later. Those three people will survive longer together than they would separately or in a group of people who are just like them. Three isn’t enough though. Humans have needs that are more diverse than what you’ll find among three people. So that’s why you said 12 or 14 people.

Yes, there’s also the safety and numbers angle. Most people can’t successfully get along with 12 people. So if we manage to build trust and community in groups of 12, we are unlikely to encounter any groups large enough to counter us at that size. I don’t know, white people seem to love to unite around hate. Their communities are cannibalizing each other though.

Did you hear about what happened in the high rise condominiums a couple of weeks ago? No, what happened? I heard about that. The fire where they trampled those two old ladies to death and they held the doorman hostage or something. Yup. A fire broke out on the 19th floor. The elevators turned off automatically. Apparently that’s protocol, but there were quite a few elderly people in the building.

So two of the doorman climbed the 19 flights of stairs to help an elderly lesbian couple down. But when they got to the fourth floor carrying the women on their backs, mind you, some rich guy told them he needed them to help his wife down because she just had a boob job and a tummy tuck and she couldn’t walk well. When the doorman asked why he couldn’t help his own wife, he said that he had gotten calf implants done at the same time.

so he couldn’t carry any extra weight on his legs. So the doorman told him that they’d take the ladies down and come back up, but the rich guy said, no, you’ll help my wife and come back for the old hags. When the doorman refused, the dude grabbed one of the women off the doorman’s back and punched her in the face, knocking her out. What the actual fuck is wrong with people?

It was sick. He kept punching her until the doorman agreed to help him and the other one escaped with the elderly wife on his back. The doorman went into the rich dude’s apartment to help and the guy pulled a gun on him and said, just to make sure. The fuck? Make sure of what? Who fucking knows? By the time they got back to the stairwell though,

There had been an explosion on one of the upper floors and a flood of people had come barreling down the stairs, trampling the unconscious older woman to death. The rich guy’s wife ended up getting shoved around, popped one of her implants and died of sepsis a week later. Fuck! All that for nothing? Is the doorman okay? He’s traumatized.

He’s trying to sue the rich dude, but apparently there’s some kind of crazy language in his contract with the building that precludes him from suing the tenants. Wait, why is he suing the guy? Isn’t he in jail for killing the old lady? Nope. He’s claiming that he was delirious from the pain meds. He offered to pay the widow some insulting amount of money for punching her wife, but I’m sure he paid the district attorney more to let him out on bail.

It won’t go to trial. They never get held accountable. The justice system is a complete fucking joke at this point. With a depraved dictator white supremacist president, it’s not surprising. He’s basically on his… Karen looked around now too and then whispered, deathbed.

Speaking ill of the president is illegal as well. It falls under some law created by executive order that deems any negative speech about the president or any Republican representative as an act of quote, terror and treason. It’s not just him though. This will go on after he’s gone. It’s their extinction burst.

and the only way that men can ensure that they have any power in this country, hell, in the world. If you ask me, they’re all just hurt little emotionally stunted boys who need classes on emotion expression and regulation and some play dates and clubs to belong to. Little boys? That rich dude was willing to kill an old lady and his actions also ended up killing his own wife.

They’re little boys in dangerous grown adult bodies, Sam chimed in. That part. Men are exactly what society claims to fear that disabled and cognitively impaired adults will become. Don’t even get me started on FKR’s insane speeches and health camps. What the fuck are we going to do? Jay, tell me more about how you’re going to save us.

If there’s no fucking and no booze, I need hope. Yeah, hope has felt like a dangerous substance for me. I tend to over invest and overextend. That’s why I’ve been focusing more on all the different dimensions and options. I’ve just been trying to stay in the here and now. I take as many shifts at the bar as I can, but my rent went up and I haven’t been feeling like making art lately.

A room of 12 people. I think 12 is better than 14. Giving up urgency, telling their truths, building trust. I like this idea. and a keeper. Two keepers in each room. Karen was rattling off everything I’d said so far, almost like she was trying to drink it in to soothe herself. Yes, so a keeper is a designated guide.

They learn and practice listening and feedback skills, problem solving, and they agree to hold space for the other people in the group for a period of time. They’re on call in case anything acute or major happens in someone’s life. There’s someone that you can reach for who will show up and hold you in community when you need. God, that sounds amazing. I could have used that the other day when I got my rental increase notice.

How long ago did you get the notice? Did you know that you could send your leasing office a counter offer? Like if they say, we’re raising your rent 300, you can say, I’d like to counter at 150. What? No, I haven’t done or said anything. It didn’t say anything about countering. They love to gatekeep that kind of information. Wait, so I can really haggle with them?

If you’re a good tenant, they’re usually inclined to negotiate. You’re a steady paycheck for them, and especially now, that means something. Yes, I did that with my last apartment before I moved in with Miss Gladys. They ended up being so desperate to keep me that they offered to reduce the increase to $50, but no rent and some community care is way better than $2,300 a month. My rent was $3,500.

and they’re raising it to 38. You mean they’re trying to raise it. We’re going to get them to come down. You see more becoming more community care. We might just survive the end of this world yet. A guy who had come in a minute or two before and was standing outside finishing his cigarette had been eavesdropping on our conversation. He chose this moment.

to insert himself. There’s no saving this world. It’s trash. We’re fucked for sure. You can try a little something with your rent now, but eventually they’ll get you. I had hoped that this would be the beginning and end of his interjection, but he went inside to order pizza and came back out and sat at the table next to us. Thanks for the advice. I’m gonna see what I can do at the leasing office tomorrow morning.

I can help you if you’d like. I’m a real good talker, but it’s honestly best to do it all in writing. True. This way you have a written agreement the moment they say yes to a lower amount. I told you, it don’t matter. You might pay a little less now, but they gonna price us all out eventually. Our lovely Breakfast Club podcast host again. I’ll take the help and the few extra dollars in my pocket. Thanks. Sam said to Karen,

rolling their eyes and categorically ignoring the man. He was sitting behind Sam and to the right of me about six feet from our table. Karen was the only one who could see his face head on. I had a peripheral view and was scanning and assessing his threat level. You’re very pessimistic. If none of it matters and they’re gonna get us all in the end, then why even eat that pizza? Why do anything?

You could just lie down and let them take you now said Karen laughing. You don’t know the real history of this country. You only know what they taught you in school. So you’re going off of that white history, that white man’s story. Who’s going off the white man’s story? My daddy was a Panther. I have more education than you’d think. Well, these two, they don’t know. I heard her talk about saving the world.

Karen went to correct the man on my pronouns and I shot her a look that said, thanks, but no thanks. You came in at a weird point in the conversation. You don’t have all the context. Sam and I shifted in our chairs so that we could get a better look at the guy. I heard y’all say you’re trying to make a plan to save the world and I’m telling you it’s never gonna work if you don’t know your history. It’s not like they teach in school about the Panthers, the slave trade, none of it.

I’ll bet you didn’t know that some of us was already here. We aren’t from Africa like they say. ⁓ Lord, he’s about to say foundational black. said under my breath loudly enough for Sam to hear. They broke out laughing. See, this is why we can’t unite because women are hearty these days and they don’t want to listen to anybody.

What do you have to contribute to the conversation besides pessimism? What’s your plan? If you were going to save the USA, how would you do it based on all that history that you know? I decided to try and center the man’s humanity. Even though Giovanni’s room is a man-free zone, one of my goals is to work to humanize everyone and work on my misandry. I thought this tipsy black man was a good place to start.

Well, first you have to understand what happened between Frederick Douglass and W.E.B. Du Bois. Don’t forget Booker T. now, interjected Karen. The man went on for a few minutes and listening to him felt more like listening to the reading of a textbook than a conversation. After I had let him orate the major differences between Douglass’s and Du Bois’s approaches to uplifting the Negro, I interjected.

I take your points. Similar arguments have been made about Malcolm X, MLK and Bayard Rustin. My question remains, what is your plan in your wildest dreams beyond the pessimism and the identified constraints? If you were going to save America, how would you go about doing it? He stopped talking for a moment and I glanced over at Sam who was decidedly bothered at this man’s interruption.

Only chance we have, only Snowball’s chance in hell, is if we get as many states as we can together and go to the United Nations. We petition them to acknowledge our legitimacy as people, separate from the mess that’s going on here with our government, and we ask them to help us. That’s the only way. Sam laughed out loud then, and I followed suit and voluntarily.

Karen sat there with her mouth open for a moment and then said, wait, so that’s your plan? The UN? It’s the only thing we can do. Look at what they did for Palestine. You mean the Palestine where they just opened a new resort for American billionaires? That Palestine? The one where the Palestinians still live in an apartheid state and have to show papers to move about the tiny territory they have left?

The Palestine that has been genocided nearly out of existence? I couldn’t hold my tongue any longer. Do you see why there are no men in Giovanni’s room? I said to Karen. The man kept on talking and I took the opportunity to take the plates and garbage inside to be thrown away. As I rose from the chair, the man went to grab the bottles from me and put his hand on my lower back.

I spun around quickly. Do not put your hands on me, I said very sternly. I was just trying to, I don’t care what you were trying to do. Do not get close to me and do not touch me. Damn, I didn’t mean to make you mad and hurt your little feelings. You didn’t hurt my feelings. You wasted my time. You have no ideas.

The UN is the United States. You literally just told us to go to our abusers and beg for mercy. I turned and walked to the door of the pizza shop, which was now closed as they were closing down for the night. The man rushed ahead of me and opened the door. And as I walked through, he put his hand on my low back again. I dropped the plates and bottles, grabbed his wrist and twisted swiftly.

using a downward thrust so that he dropped to the ground in agony. I told you not to touch me, I said in a purposely low tone. I breathed deeply, released him and began gathering the pieces of glass from the ground. What the fuck is wrong with you? These bitches is crazy, screamed the man, reaching for a chair to help him off of the ground.

Sam jumped up from the table at that point and put their body between me and the man, pretending to help me clean up the glass. Karen sat at the table, frozen in shock. When I had gathered all the pieces I could and rose to go inside, Sam asked, you okay? I’m fine. I do not like to be touched non-consensually and I don’t like men.

right there with you, but really, are you okay? I really am, for now, thanks.” I turned and this time Sam held the door and I walked inside. The man gathered himself and came in a few paces behind Sam who followed to make sure that things stayed deescalated. Frankie, the shop owner,

Having witnessed part of the end of the altercation said, I fucking knew that guy was going to be trouble. I just knew it, but I don’t want to be like that. And I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. Well, now I need a broom. You should stop doing that, by the way, that benefit of the doubt thing. You’ve been here 10 years and you stay open till 3 AM. You know when the vibe is off. You need to listen to yourself. You’re right. I’m sorry.

I should have thrown him out before you had to take him down. The man was lurking over by the napkins and crushed red pepper. Apparently he had cut his knee on the glass trying to get up. He was cursing and talking to himself while scrunching napkins to stop the bleeding. Apologies for the biohazard. Nah, you’re all right. That was a good move. Thanks. I’ve been practicing. Good.

It’s getting more and more dangerous. By the way, my wife loves that scarf thing. You scored me some real points with that one. You’re welcome. I’m glad she liked it. Frankie handed me the broom and Sam and I went out to clean up the rest of the glass. Karen started to say something to us, but before I could make out what she was saying, I felt the man coming up quickly behind me and I threw the broom to Sam and spun around.

He was cursing and moving toward me, and I didn’t make out what he was saying either. I put my arms out to stop him at the shoulders and brought my knee into his groin. He collapsed backward into the parlor. I heard barking behind me and flinched, closing the door to the pizza place so that the man could not reach me again. At this point, he was curled up on the floor just inside. I spun around again, and this time I was greeted by Llewellyn.

and his two giant English mastiffs. Causing trouble again, I see, he said, pulling the dog’s leashes to quiet them. They heard your voice out the window and they were wiggling and begging me to come out and say hi. I heard the asshole. Yeah, you know, I looked back to assess the status of the man. Frankie was in the seating area with a meat cleaver.

flailing and pointing at the man who had pulled himself to a chair and was looking sheepish. I bent down to pet the dogs who mauled me with love. I took out a piece of pizza crust that I had reserved, broke it into two pieces and gave them each one. You want me to take care of this guy before I walk? Llewellyn asked. Actually, yeah, would you? Sure thing. Just hold James and Baldwin for me, would you?

Of course, give me my babies, I said, reaching for the leashes. Walk over there so they don’t maul the guy, all right? I walked over to the far table in chairs and Karen got up from the table where we had been sitting and walked with me, Sam in tow. We sat down and a few moments later, Llewellyn flung the door open and escorted the man out with one hand wrapped behind him, walked him quickly to the corner.

and told him not to come back. What the fuck just happened? Karen blurted out. I mean, I was assaulted and I defended myself. All he did was touch your waist. Sam threw Karen a dirty look. All he did was touch me non-consensually after I very clearly communicated that this was a violation of my personal boundaries.

Well, the second time he came at you, but he came at me all of the times. Violence doesn’t have to be forceful or loud or leave a bruise. I said, don’t touch me after he had already touched me once without consent, mind you. And he did it again. Yeah, what did you want them to do? Said Sam angrily. I don’t know. I, we could have just laughed.

Are we going to keep leaving? Are we going to leave every time we are threatened? There’s going to come a point where you can’t just run away. Yeah, but we’re not there yet. We are there, Karen. I told you. It may not be covered in the news, but this is where we are. The number of missing girls and women goes up every day. When someone blows past your boundaries, it’s a test.

said Sam. One of my foster dads did that to me, trying to see how much I would let him do before I said something. Yes, testing and grooming are violence too. It’s not a coincidence that missing children cases spiked a month after school started this year, a month after they removed all women and non-binary and trans people as public school teachers.

That is crazy, but, but what? But a man touching me is okay, so long as it’s over my clothes, so long as it’s only for a second. How many seconds do you think it takes for a man to overpower you? Do you think they’ll be less likely to hit or rape or kidnap you if you’re polite to them? Yeah, but that guy was just drunk and lonely. He wasn’t going to, how do you know?

what he was going to do. How do you know he’s not responsible for one of the missing kids or the women? His energy was off. He was off. I acted accordingly. Okay, okay. When it’s your body being assaulted, you can make decisions about how to handle it. I don’t let people violate my boundaries without making sure

that they are appropriately deterred from ever doing so again. We were all silent. I half expected Karen to get up and walk away, but she just sat there giving off anxious energy and staring at the table. You all right, hon? Frankie poked his head out. I’m fine, thanks. Here, you’s better make sure you’re hydrated. You calling an Uver?

Frankie walked over and put a bottle of water in front of each of us. Karen mumbled, thanks, without looking up from the table. Sam opened the bottle in front of me and handed it to me to drink. My car is back at the bar. We’re gonna walk back and grab it, I said, before taking a gulp. Thanks, Frankie, you’re the sweetest. All right, I’m turning off the lights in five minutes, so use no.

We’re leaving in a second, I said, speaking for all of us. Frankie went back inside and the door closed behind him. I heard the lock click. Well, I’m just going to grab an Uver from here, said Karen, taking out her phone. Ubvers aren’t safe, said Sam. They think that’s how women are going missing. In this neighborhood, they’re okay, said Karen, looking at the map of drivers on her screen.

Where do you live? If it’s not far, I’ll take you, I said. It’s like 15 minutes from here, but I’m okay, really. Okay, you don’t seem okay. You seem shaken up, but okay. Well, you did just take a guy down in front of me. Sam, who was clearly still angry with Karen, was about to say something, but I put my hand on their arm to stop them.

I did do that. I’m sorry that you had to see it. I didn’t mean to scare you. I looked over at Sam who was holding their breath. They reached out to me and I took their hand and squeezed. You aren’t the one who scared me, I guess. I guess you’re right about the touching. Dudes are so gross. I don’t need to be right. I only need to do what’s best for me.

You get to have your experience. Karen looked up at me then as though I had said something in a foreign language. What do you mean? She said finally. I mean that there is room for both of our truths. You get to feel that I overreacted and I get to feel that I acted appropriately. Like what? What do you? Two things can be true at the same time.

said Sam, giving my hand another squeeze. I guess, I guess that’s true, said Karen, glancing at Sam and then lowering her eyes. I live on 8th, just past Ralphie’s. Do you know where that is? Yeah, I know where that is. Sam, will you walk with us back to the bar? Where do you live? I asked. ⁓

I can walk from the bar. I’m only like a seven minute walk from there. I’d like to drive you home anyway, if you’d let me. Sam looked over at Karen, who was staring at the map of Uver drivers again. I gave Sam’s hand another squeeze and looked them in the eye. Yeah, okay. You can take me home if you want. Let’s take Karen first. We didn’t say anymore.

I let go of Sam’s hand and we got up, pushed in the chairs and walked in silence back toward the bar. The early morning air had a bite to it and Karen wrapped her arms tightly in front of her, walking slightly ahead of me and Sam, pushing into the wind as though it were an ocean wave. That’s my car there, I said, as we rounded the corner of the street that the bar was on.

I pointed to a red Honda CRV parked across the street. The street was nearly empty as we crossed, save a lone Uver driver with a bright dash light that slowed down as we crossed and then sped on when I pushed the button to unlock the car doors and the interior lights came on. Karen reached for the rear driver’s side door and Sam walked around to the front passenger side to get in.

I moved a bag of yarn and books to the back next to Karen and stuck my cell phone up on the dashboard holder. Okay, want to give me your address? I asked looking at Karen in the rear view, or should I just put in Ralphie’s? She looked back at me in the worn rectangular mirror and said 2441 San Junipero Street. I took my phone in my hand, typed in the address,

and stuck it back to the magnetic arm. How about some music I said at nobody in particular. Some tunes sound good said Sam and I grabbed my phone yet again and opened my music streaming app.

Never crossing at the same time

traveling in parallel lines

Are you out there fighting with the same fight?

I don’t want to go my whole life

Only knowing what you feel like

soaked in wax and wine

I made a left turn and began singing the chorus of the song. ⁓

Oooh If I could, if I could choose

It would be, it would be you.

If I could, if I could choose you

Who sings this? asked Karen from the back seat. Yeah, it’s really beautiful. It’s Ruti, I answered. I think they’re British. Aren’t the lyrics amazing? What’s it called? If I Could Choose, I think I can send it to you if you want. I just found it on Spottiphy. Cool. We rode on in silence.

for a few minutes and then Karen asked about the next song and the one after that. You have really good taste, she said, searching for the third song. I could just send you the whole playlist. that’d be dope. That’s me right over there, the red awning, said Karen, gesturing to a building just past the corner. I pulled up in front of it and a stray cat scurried away into the night.

as I put the car in neutral and pulled up the E-brake. Thanks for the ride, she said, opening the back door and scurrying out. Bye, yelled Sam as Karen disappeared into her building.

(58:06)
A Next Day is an interactive Afrofuturist science fiction series about the origins of Giovanni’s Room, a matriarchal collective that forms in the wake of the collapse

of one of history’s most powerful regimes. Listeners are encouraged to follow along and send in their story ideas to GiovannisroomGCC@gmail.com. Help us tell the tale. Help us write the future into existence.