We Return Fighting

René sits in a huge hall made from corrugated iron the smell of the sea being thick in the air for hours they were couped up inside in those chairs that felt as if they were made from stone each movement sent signals through the spine to the brain screaming to stand up and like the clarion call from God; however this god had a raspy French accent; He leant towards the Radio system and spoke 
“Martin Jeanlouis Junior, Louisiana, Please arise” 

And With that command the Synapses within René brain sends millions of commands towards the Cerebellum like a wildfire they spread into every nook and cranny, like a wildfire it ignites the entirety of René Nervous system it screams in agony as his knees unlock and he stands. the hall is silent when he stands the cracks of his back are as loud as the explosions on the front, in unison everyone turns to look at René no emotion they all sit empty just like René once did. René’s black arm extends out and latches onto the back of the cold chair Infront of him. He turns his head slowly and looks at the boy next to him who was holding his cane for him  

Quietly the boy handed the cane to him and said “here you go sir, do you need help getting to the stage?” 

“No!” snapped René he continued in a quieter more pleasant tone “I am fine thank you for your kindness boy, when you return hug your mother and never let go” 

The boy in his blue uniform performed a low respectful nod and held it until René stumbled off. 

 

Down the aisle of chairs, he passed and with each person he passed they tucked their legs underneath their chairs the face he saw was of different shape and build but they were all the same to everyone else.  

Reaching the end of the aisles René solemnly looked both ways to his right was a door where they all shuffled in from, what looked to be 10 rows or so of chairs between him and the door, to his left was a stage he could somewhat see if he looked around the head of the fellow seated Infront of him. René tried to count the rows between him and the stage, but it was far too many before he gave up and shambled towards the steps. With each step carried a loud clank that filled the large hall, René kept his head down and hurried towards the steps. 

 
“Only 3 steps, just put the cane on the first one than on the third step” he thought. Each joint from his ankles to his pelvis screamed in agony sending signals towards his brain screaming NO and STOP like if his bones were filled with molten magma incinerating his muscles and bones from the inside out. 

And so slowly he made his way up the 3 measly steps, it was a sad and depressing sight. René reached the summit and took a moment to gaze down the hall over his shoulder, it was like a sea of bright blue beautiful waves filled with black baubles floating in the calm waves. Quickly snapping out of his gaze he turned towards the only white man in the room, a tall old French commander hands behind his back he firmly plated his feet onto the stage and hailed René 

René limped over towards the commander and stood firm despite how much his nervous system screamed against it his legs shaking he straightened his back and rose his right arm with his cane tucked underneath his left and saluted the Commander. 

The commander elegantly returned his Salute and when his lips parted a melodic voice replied. 

“Martin, it is great honour that I address you, France, her people, Freedom thanks you for serving”. 

He once more saluted René this weird feeling, brewing inside of René was strange, it felt as if someone grabbed his intestines and mixed them all up worst of all made his heart sink, all René could do was nod back and as his lips parted a timid voice uttered. 

“it has been an honour servicing France and Her people le commandant” 

The commander with one hand plucked and played with his white moustache hairs as if he didn’t even hear him say it, with his free hand he slowly raised his hand and directed him towards the exit and spoke. 

“Dismissed.” 

René swallowed the big collection of saliva that had built up in his throat and retrieved his cane from the clutched of his left armpit and shambled out the door, the cool ocean breeze hit René’s skin it was refreshing he stood there for a good minute with his eyes closed and just listened the birds were quieter preparing for rest the dock workers singing and working the sound of automobiles every 10 seconds or so, the city was having it’s long needed rest after the war. 

The sound of boots no dress shoes get louder and louder coming towards him René doesn’t want to but he slowly opens his eyes and from the blur of his eyelids opening he see’s a man with a black outfit approach him 

“Quick! Hurry! We do not want to be delayed sir!” 

René looked at him and said nothing, they were about an extended arm’s length René exhaled calmly and spoke. 

“Are you the ship’s captain?” 

The man turned his back towards him and while walking away and his shoes making that signature noise that commanded respect and said in a demeaning way.  

“This way sir if you will” 

René braced himself and limped behind the man while following the man through the stench ridden dock, bird shit mixed with fish guts, and as in your face as that stench was it wasn’t the same as the dockworkers, they would stare at René and when he caught them they would snap back to their work. 

“they’ve probably never seen a negro before”.  

He thought to himself. 

After what felt like hours of walking, they turned the corner of a fish packing warehouse and saw it, a ship so large it resembled a blimp, or a parliament house it took up the entirety of the dock and on the side was painted “Voyage”. 

Out of nowhere the man in the suit quickly sprung around, so fast that it made René jump a little, his nervous system was thrown all out of whack, on fire, fight or flight on the brink of shutting down. The man said.  

“I am the boarding agent, pleasure to meat you sir, this here” he brandishes a book and from it firmly and precisely rips a thin sheet of paper, covered in numbers and letters. 

“is your boarding pass and your room pass, show this to the kind ladies on board and they can assist you if you need it, is there anything else you would like to hear before boarding?” 

René sat for a moment and was in the action of raising his finger to ask a question when he was cut off. 

“Great, enjoy your trip to America sir” and so he turned around and strut off towards a building and when he finally got to the doors with both arms he pushed open the doors and entered the building, the doors rapidly swinging behind him René turned his neck feeling the cool winds brush against the side of his head almost knocking his military cap off his head and gazed at the ship he pondered for a moment before sharply inhaling and limping towards the boat. 

5th of July  1919 10:37 PM 

René was changed out of uniform he didn’t pack it away or anything just laid it out on the chair besides his bed. He sat by the window of his room in a rocking chair tucked with a blanket gazing outside the window most people were still boarding but he was taking in the sights of Paris through his circular window it was rather cold in his room he could feel bumps rise off his legs through his trousers as he breathed in and out there was a clock on the wall Infront of him 10:37 it read with the words “Les aventures sont la meilleure façon d'apprendre” written under the clock behind it’s glass 

“adventures are something to learn” thought René, he returned to looking at the city it was pretty much asleep by now most of the lights were on in the buildings and there was only one or two people walking by the docks if you were lucky you would see a truck. His gazed was interrupted by 3 thuds at his door focusing his gaze to the dark parts of the city all he could see of the city was the reflection of his face and the room behind him he looked at the door for a good 3 seconds and cleared his throat  

“Hello?” questioned René. 

A quiet timid voice cleared it’s throat, it was muffled and could not be heard René tried to make sense of what he could hear but quickly replied. 

“Could you repeat that for me?” 

A woman’s voice, elegant in its pronunciation responded louder, clearer. 

“May I enter the room Monsieur?” 

René looked at the time 10:39 PM and took a deep breath and loudly and clearly replied. 

“Oui” 

And with that the door slowly creaked open and the shadow of a woman holding a tray crept through the crack of the door she respectful and quietly crept up towards René as he focused back onto the city looking at it’s quiet streets. 

“Monsieur.” she said quietly not wanting to disturb him. 

René snapped away from the window and met her eyes, when both of their eyes met they both veered their eyes away, but curiosity filled their minds and they both tried to sneak a peek once more and coincidentally caught each other once more, the woman held the tray and René grabbed the silver tray with both of his hands hand placed it on his lap the room was silent for a good 10 seconds, the longest 10 seconds of her life, She cleared her throat it could surely be heard from across the hall she quickly said 

“Monsieur this-” she extends her Index finger pointing towards the ornate cup “-is a cup of green tea with 3 spoons of sugar these here-“she movers her finger towards two small cups of sugar and milk “-are additional sugar and milk”  

René tried to speak but all that came out of was an unintelligible noise from his parted and dry lips, he cleared his throat and softly said. 

“Thank you, kindly madam,”. 

He tried to just for a moment get a glance at her and their eyes met once more but this time they didn’t shy away, he got a good look at her, a fine sleek face powdered with red lipstick like a poppy and beautiful blue eyes that pierced into René very soul, black hair that was tied into a bun behind her pin she had peacock feathers on the front of the band that stretched across her forehead René reptilian man brain shut down as it went into its default primate mode alarms signalling “SHUTDOWN”,”JUMPSHIP” she had full control over him in this moment, and so he looked away the woman looked down at a single piece of paper the moved her head away and performed a small cough to break the tension and said 

“Monsieur this is the menu for tonight the menu works in a day schedule so Monday through Friday all have different menu’s, what would you like to order Monsieur?” 

René had never ordered anything before it was kind of exciting for him, he picked up the menu and looked through all the options, all of these foods he had never eaten before, one caught his eye 

“Confit de Canard, what is that madam?”  

she pointed to the corner of the bed and spoke. 

“May I Monsieur?” 

“Oui”  
René swiftly replied. 

 She sat and thought for a few seconds and hastily replied. 

“Monsieur, Confit de Canard is a duck dish similar to chicken, but it is cooked in its fat and preserved”. 

“Oui”  

Replied René 

The woman nod and stood up and performed a small bow and softly said. 

“Enjoy your meal Monsieur”. 

She then turned around and humbly with her head lowered walked towards the door. 

Sweating palms feeling like he had swum in a river, no an ocean René rose his voice. 

“Madam, may I have the privilege of knowing your name?” 

The woman turned around surprised stopped and slowly turned to face René in his rocking chair, she crossed her legs while standing and picked up the corners of her dress and lowered herself saying.  

“Joyce Ce Dubois at your service Monsieur” 

Joyce stayed bowed for a while till slowly rising and uncrossing her legs, she continued. 

“Monsieur, may I have the pleasure of knowing your name?”  

René Swallowed yet another lump of saliva in his throat and replied.  

“Martin Jeanlouis Junior, it’s been a pleasure meeting you Joyce”.  

Joyce could barely look him in the eyes when she replied.  

“it’s been a pleasure meeting you Martin”. 

Joyce hastily rushed off to the door and politely closed it.as the doorknob turned and clicked René exhaled and looked at the window , the lights of the city were mostly off, say except the street lights. 

René looked at the clock, the clock read 10:41 PM. 

 

6th of July 1919 sometime in the morning 

 René was standing in a circle of hellfire bullets flying all around dead bodies the stench is what drove him, at least that’s what he thought everywhere, he was holding Gaston, Gaston looked him in the eyes holding his hand hard 

“Kill every single one of the Kraut bastards Martin, kill everyone fucking one of them even when they surrender kill every fucking one of them bastards stab the shit out of them with your bayonet shoot them in the chest do whatever needs to be done just fucking kill them for me”. 

 Gaston then closed his eyes and let go of René hand.  

René sat up in his hand Gasping for air like he was being strangled to death, grasping his throat and coughing and splattering taking deep breathes he stared and his bedding as the light from the sun came through the window on his left a woman’s voice could be heard he felt soft delicate caring hands shake his arm on the right, he shook his head and looked around he saw the clock it read something like 9 0 something the sun made it hard to see, and to his right was Joyce knelt by his side shaking his arm he looked at her and looked away instantly she panicked said 

“Monsi- ..Martin you scared the living daylights out of me! are you alright martin? Do I need to call a doctor?” 

René gestured her away and on the side of the bed in his boxer shorts, he caught his breath and replied. 

“I’m sorry Joyce..I-I can understand your concern but I am fine” 

She quickly sat next to him and spoke. 

“well let me get you some tea Mons- Martin.” 

There was silence for a good while. 

René replied after exhaling “yes that would be good Joyce”. 

Joyce sprung up and accepted the call to duty and she marched off to expertly craft that cup of tea delicately closing the door behind her. 

René was left with in the stinking heat , half naked with beads of sweat running down his black skin, and a dry throat. 

 

Joyce and René would casually talk for the next week or so but on the second final week of the cruise is when René , despite being a solider he finally got the courage to talk other in more than just small talk. 

 it was the 15th, the 3rd last day till he reached Louisiana, Joyce followed her morning routine as she brought René his favourite black tea with 3 spoons of sugar , she didn’t need to ask him, she remembered it off by heart, she would also sneak a stick of cinnamon with a slice of lemon when the chef wasn’t looking since she knew he liked it, there she was walking down the hall her heart paced as she walked down the hall counting the rooms in her head “386,387,388,389,390,3-9-1” 

She would double check her face with her hand mirror and straightened out her shirt, she would shake her hands as she psyched herself up she gained the confidence, on the other side of the door René sat in his chair looking out at the ocean, it was surprisingly tame today, no giant waves just nice calm with a nice cool ocean breeze, he returned his gaze from the window to a small blue book Joyce had given him 

“Learning French for Englishman” 

There was a particular bit he had trouble with, he folded the corner of the page and then looked for a bookmark psyching himself up too, in his mind he had the perfect plan. 

They both put on this weird act for some reason, only god knows why but today the grand spectacle , the hero’s time to shine. The doorknob slowly turned and clicked and slowly she pushed the door open.  

“Good morning Martin, I brought your morning tea” 

René casually replied.  

“Bonjour Joyce” 

Joyce blushed, her face grew red, it felt as if the sun was shining straight onto her face, it grew so hot she felt she needed to take off her headwear , she tried to hide it but it was like hiding a tomato in a cabbage patch. 

“Martin I see you have been reading that book I gave you, you really didn’t need to-“ 

René quickly cut her off and replied. 

“oh but of course madam Joyce, France is a beautiful country with beautiful people and an even more beautiful language!” 

Joyce laughed and went to place the tea tray on his lap but martin pointed towards the wardrobe and she placed it on the wardrobe 

René then ushered her over and spoke. 

“Madam Joyce I don’t mean to be a bother but there is a particular part that I am having trouble pronouncing, I want to say a sentence to someone when I get to America can you help me pronounce it?” 

She couldn’t look him in the eyes, she tried to but he was gazing right into her soul, she let her dignity slip for a moment when she scratched the back of her head and then composed herself, she laughed and replied 

“Well of course Martin what is it you want help with?” 

René hastily opened up the book and found his page and placed his index finger on a sentence he said 
“when I land in America I want to say this to someone” 

“she tilted her head to see the words but it wasn’t enough so she positioned herself behind his rocking hair and got a clearer look, the passage read 

“Je vous aime” 

In her head the words rang through her mind like church bells ringing through a town 

“I love you” rang through her mind, she wanted to cry, she wanted to scream “is it for me? No it is not for me if it was for me he would have said he wanted to say it to me he said it was for when he landed stupid” 

She almost broke her charade and with a heavy heart she steadied herself and firmly said. 

“The first word is quite easily pronounced vous say it like V-U-Z in English vous and the last word say it like A-E-M aime “ 

René repeated it to himself quietly, he turned his head to Joyce looking up at her and said.  

“Like that?” 

She replied quickly. 

“Oui” 

And with that she quickly left the room she had never left the room like that before, the clock read 9:02 AM 

It was the final day, The ship blared it’s horns signalling it was about to dock René sat in his room all dressed in his bright blue French military uniform, he would have sold it if he didn’t have someone to impress he thought to himself and he sat in his chair he looked at the time 9:01 AM however outside his window he saw another ship to his right going to Louisiana  

“it must be the other black boys” he thought 

He checked back at the clock 9:02 AM 

“that’s not normal” he thought his mind started racing and he stood up from his chair and paced around his room for about 6 minutes when suddenly he heard it 

3 quick and loud thuds 

René bolted to the door and when he opened it there was no one there but a box on the ground, he picked up the box and looked to the left of the hall, no one, to the right, a woman rushing off,  

“Joyce!” René shouted down the hall, she didn’t want to, but she turned around. 

“Monsieur please do not yell!” she hurried towards him. 

“What is it you need Monsieur?” 

René was talking to himself in his mind and although he thought he was talking in his mind he said something under his breath. 

She raised her eyebrow but before she could even ask him to speak up René cut her off. 

“Joyce Je vous aime!” 

Joyce was taken aback she congratulated him and said. 

“yes, that is how it is said Martin” 

René repeated.  

“Joyce je Vous Aime, with all of my heart Joyce” 

What must have been half a second of reaction Joyce sprang towards René and hugged him tight laughing repeating “I love you” over and over again. 

The two held each other for what must have been 10 minutes nobody said a word until René broke the silence with. 

“Stay with me in America Joyce”, she stood back a moment and ushered him into his room. 

René sat on his char and Joyce sat on the corner of the bed she was still beaming with energy from that rush, but she had to reserve herself and she repeated to René. 

“I am not a citizen of the united states, why don’t you come back to France?” 

René with sorrow in his heart said “ I wish I could Joyce, I truly do, but my folks don’t get it easy immigration wise, that’s why they sent us all back Joyce” 

Joyce trying to figure something out quickly kept rattling off short, sided ideas about sneaking him back or sneaking her out but as temping as it was René had to keep it realistic and told her 

 “we will likely not meet for another 5 to 6 years Joyce if we’re lucky, it’s a possibility we may never see each other again.” 

She shoots up and says firmly and with a heavy heart. 

“But you are the love of my life René! I will wait 100 years if it is needed!” 

She clearly cannot hear herself over how heavily her heart is beating, or she would realise what she said out loud.  

René exhales and speaks.  

“so it seems, if possible I will sleep on benches and save all my money in the bank if it means I can ferry to France and live with you Joyce” 

She falls silent onto the bed and looks up to the roof disappointed and takes off her headwear. For a while she says nothing and replies 

“that is no way for a man to live René you are not a dog you are a man!” 

Rejuvenated she paces around the room thinking.  

René thinks for a while and stops her. 

“Joyce” he says with a pause then continues. 

“Wait René? Who is that?” 

She stops and slowly gets to eye level with him and places her soft hand on the side of his face and brushes his black cheek with her white thumb she softly says 

“it means to be reborn again Martin, you are a beautiful man with a beautiful soul, do not let this horrible war turn you sour and bitter, everybody likes strawberry’s not lemons on their cakes René” 

René pauses for a moment. 

“re…né… I kind alike that Joyce, you’re a smart gal, has anybody ever told you that”?” 

She blushes. 

“Oh you” 

She replies. 

The room falls silent for a bit as they are left looking into each other’s eyes 

The horns on the boat blare twice, they’re docking now. 

“René we’re going to be late! Grab your bags and we’ll go to the docking area”! 

Regrettably she lifts her hand off his face and moves away from his chair , René rises and brushes his suit off he goes to grab his bags when he is interrupted by Joyce 

“Do you have that box I left at the door René? 

René digs deep through his pockets and produces the maroon cushioned box and within it lies a beautiful blue flower. 

“What is this?” René asks. 

Joyce replies with her hands between her knees swinging her torso left to right.  

“it’s a Cornflower, I saw women giving them to their husbands and lovers when they got sent to the military academy, my mother always told me to get one in case I had a boy that got sent to war, but I never found him, until now.” 

She firmly planted the flower on this left chest with a pin on his blue uniform, it was a darker blue and stood out, proudly he stood and looked at himself.  

“Shall we go?” 

said Joyce gesturing towards the door. 
Before René makes it to the door she holds the door shut, Writing one  apiece of Silk, kisses it and tucks it in his pocket. 

 

17TH of July 1:56 PM  

They’ve reached the docks and René walks away from the ramp with bag and cane in hand, Joyce blows a whistle and waves her hat at René, he does the same and they 100 meters or so apart say their final goodbyes, René walks up the concrete driveway from the docks walks towards the bus stop, there was a fence that you couldn’t see through, a solid concrete wall more like between the dock and the bus stop and initially was filled with black folk, to the right of the bus stop was the other dock, with that other boat he saw , except it was all white folk getting out and greeting their wives and families, some black folk had family waiting for them, some were home waiting since it was dangerous to be out at night late if you were black unbeknownst to René, some had no family. as it reached noon it was only René, nobody wanted to catch the Bus to Jamrock, Especially if they were black, a woman with her son came down to the bus stop her son excitedly came running up to René, he was still so energetic despite it almost being 6 PM at least by the looks of it, sun hasn’t set but it’s about to kind of time. The energetic child came up to René and said to him. 

“Do you know whe-“ 

Without moment’s notice he was yanked away by his mother she stood Infront of the boy holding his arm, through her legs the child stood there picking his nose looking at in a sad way René and then repeated. 

“Do white people get off the war boats here or is this only for blacks? 

René got that feeling again, all too familiar he simply raised his hand and pointed to the right. 

She quickly pulled the child away and walked towards where the white folk got off the boats, René chuckled to himself quickly and slouched back a bit 

“Nothing’s changed.” He thought. 

It was almost night when the Jamrock Bus Pulled up it’s lights blinding him as René stood up to wave , pulled up and the doors slowly opened, René climbed up the stairs with his can and his bag he went to greet the bus driver and the bus driver was white in skin tone, wearing a singlet overweight, he took a double take and above the double chin with a mole filled with hairs extruding from the white skin two fat slugs for lips leaking saliva parted showing the yellow wicked grind behind it the bus driver hollered at slapped his knee saying 

“Look at what the oceans winds brought in ‘ere boys, I ain’t ever seen a monkey so dapper dressed as yourself” 

He cackled before closing the door.  

“To the back blackie” 

 he quickly said before taking off. 

René took a step then came back and spoke. 

“Do you want to say that again to my face like a man?”  

René grabbed him by the collar , the bus driver slammed on the breaks 

“I Could drag your fat ass out this bus and stomp your fuckin head in, Never in Baeumont was I treated ever so fuckin badly! By Whi-” 

 winding up a punch René felt a hand touch his elbow on the outside his French army jacket, a deep raspy voice says to René. 

“You go off to war and suddenly got courage black boy? Give me one good reason me and my boys don’t push you over and stomp your black skull into the floor of this fucking bus?” 

René turns his head and looks over his shoulder, from the street light shining through the window of the bus he can see about 4 people maybe a fifth standing behind him René has no choice, he let go of his collar and grabs onto a pole on the bus and turns around Infront of him is a muscular white man, bald with many tattoo’s wearing a simple white singlet and shorts with tall boots.  

The Man spits in René’s face and speaks. 

“Wipe it off Melon muncher, I give you permission.” 

René see’s the man’s dagger in its holster, the metal on the handle shines the man turns to someone over his shoulder and speaks. 

“This one got guts.” 

Turning back to René he pokes his chest and speaks. 

“I see you eyeing up my daddy’s coon killing knife, go ahead, take it,” and with a pause he continues   
“stab me with it.”  

René looks up and looks into his eyes there’s a deranged look, crazed, almost frothing out of his mouth, like he’s playing the scenario in his head waiting for it to happen, in a way René is too , the bus stops. 

“Jackson Station?” the driver calls, the men move out of their way and a small white woman hurries off the bus past René. 

The white bald tattooed man watches the lady hop off the bus and gives a friendly wave then turns back to René. 

“we keep the city safe from Violent scum like you.” 

The men block the passage down the bus when René tries to get past again, they all chuckle and a rat faced fellow says. 

“Where’s that warrior’s spirit that a solider needs?” they all cackle afterwards and let him through. 

“To the back Blackie! Not a single seat ahead!” one of them says and so René shuffles along the seats are all empty this time of night so René sits at the back, the entire trip they stare at each other, this isn’t a trip home anymore, it’s a waiting game. they both know it. 

As the bus travels stop by stop nobody moves an inch the pack of wolves stalking its prey. A hare, this isn’t no regular hare, this hare has a nasty bit and a fighting spirit. Street by street the only time he can see the men is when they go past street lights and they are somewhat illuminated by the orange lights they pass. Hours go by without a word being said when suddenly one of the men points towards the window and the entire front of the bus is filled with chatter and laughter , they reach into their bags for a brief moment and the buff man from before stands up and yells 

“STOP THIS FUCKIN BUS RIGHT NOW” 

And with that command the breaks screech and come to a complete stop the buff man argues with one of the other men, all René has been able to make of him is that he is wearing a leather hat like the cowboys of old Texas. The buff man points his dagger towards René and exclaims. 

“You got lucky”.  

and they hurry off the bus and run past it down the way the bus came. René stands up and looks out the window and these 4 wolves, found their pray, a black man walking alone in the late hours of the night. He runs into the darkness followed by the 4 men. The bus driver turns left and takes off down the road again. 

The man with the hat walks down the hall of the bus towards René, René stands to meet the man and the man immediately says 

“Stand down black dog, I ain’t gon slice you up.” 

He stands Infront of René and squats saying. 

“I never caught your name boy, what is it?” 

René stutters unable to speak, his mind a prisoner of fear, unable to move, unable to speak 

The man slams his foot on the floor of the bus and makes a loud bang and repeats angrily 

“I said what is your name stupid monkey I’m talking to you!” 

Trembling René replies “R- René” 

Delighted to hear that he licks his lips, his wet tongue frolicking between his moustache hair , he laughs a little and says to René 

“You were in France weren’t ya.” 

René looking left and right out the windows of the bus, he sees a sign that says, “Welcome to Harlem city!” on it and looks back at the man and Nods. 

“mmmh them French girlies nice and curvy ain’t they?” he says to René waiting for a reply 

“ain’t they?” 

He repeats. 

René nods swallowing a lump of saliva at the back of his tongue. 

“I bet you blackboys had your fun raping and bruising em didn’t ya?” 

He says tensely his face shaking with rage. 

The bus falls silent, he slams his foot on the floor on the bus yet again creating the loud thud, the bus driver shouts 

“Stop it!” 

The man in the cowboy hat turns back and says. 

“My bad I apologise”. 

Then turns back towards René. 

“What pretty bird gave ya that flower? You rape and hit her too?” 

René’s eyes spark as if a flint and stone ignited them. 

The cowboy eyes up the flower René proudly wears on his chest, René catches him eyeing up the flower and says 

“You touch that flower, and you die pretty boy.” 

The cowboy gets a wide grin, that was the music his ears beckoned to hear, he solved this riddle. this is what he’s been waiting for 

“I like my chances.” 

 He says keeping his grin the entire time, the anticipation is in the air, who moves first 20 minutes probably passed, until the cowboy loses the waiting game and reaches for the flower, in one swift motion René Rises his right knee into the chin of the cowboy slamming his teeth into his tongue and into the roof of his mouth then swiftly follows up with a punch to the nose, hard and fast, perfect. The cowboy falls backwards and René hops over his limp body and runs to the front of the bus he grabs the collar of the bus driver and instinctively without René needing to raise his fists the bus stops and the door opens like a messenger pigeon on the frontlines René has been freed of his prison and flees he runs like the many times he did before, it’s more muscle memory kicks in with adrenaline just like when he had to charge the Kraut trenches, he screams as if he had a fixed bayonet ready to pierce the heart of the Hun, into the darkness he runs. 

He ran each step catapulting him forward till he had to stop and rest, he almost collapsed barely able to catch his breath, he looked around not a person in sight he made it, he was in the clear he slumped down and sat on the sidewalk and checked his pockets relieved he lays flat breathing in and out, silk? Check it’s there, flower? Yep, it’s still near my heart. that’s all he needed to feel. 

He could sleep right here right now; he would have too if his eyelids. 

Slowly didn’t turn orange, he opened his eyes and he saw it, the headlights of the bus to Jamrock approaching him, he slowly got up and squinted his eyes to see if he was seeing correctly, and what he saw was worse, the bus was approaching fast and worse a crazed man out for black blood bleeding from his nose and mouth he had something in his hand instructing the bus driver about something, the doors were already open 
“Merde” René yells as he turns and runs , no matter where he runs the lights were all off and behind him was a bus following behind, no alleys to break off into nothing legs aching begging for a break, however adrenaline kept him marching, runner breathing kicked in and it became more natural “this is an endurance race” thought René and so his running pace and stance changed the bus could easily have flattened him if it was the goal, he knew this but this caused his adrenaline to die down and with it the pain crept slowly but surely, he could hardly stand up straight the bus slowing down to a stop the bus rocked back a little and from the open doors the riding boots stepped out, the spurs shining in the streetlights, the belt buckle glistening, the cowboy struggled to stand without falling and licked the blood and snot from his moustache. 

“C’mere boy, C’mere” 

Catching his breath René slumped on a streetlight replying 
“get back on your bus white man or I’m going to kill you in self-defence I know my rights” 

The cowboy scoffs and replies 

“Rights? Your kind don’t have rights here silly ape , this ain’t France. Also, I’m not sure if your smaller brain can remember, but I have a witness that saw you attack me first, so if anything I’m acting in self-defence.” 

The cowboy and the bus driver laugh collectively. From his pocket he brandishes a pocketknife and fiddles with it while slowly walking towards René with a limp 

“3 good breaths to either knock him out or run”. 

The first breath, the second breath comes by just as fast, the third breath is long and drawn out, it hurts René’s lungs like he got water in them, and he turns and bolts. 

“FUCK” 

Is all that can be heard by René when he runs, all there is shouting behind him René doesn’t look back and just keeps running. The shouting is growing louder and louder, and René is slowing down, a man can only be pushed so far. And then, he sees it. 

“Guns’o’Harlem. 

Seeing this sign is the rejuvenation that René was looking for and drastically picks up his pace he reaches the shop in a matter of seconds and jumps inside trying to communicate he is being hunted down but barely able to get the words over his drained lungs and the white man running shop starts trying to kick him out double barrel pointed at his back. 

Over trying to catch his breath all René can hear is.  

“Get-hell-Shop-Black” then the doorbells ring, René slowly turns his head and sees cowboy has caught up. Both the men out of breath try to explain their stories and the gun store owner orders both the men to line up. 

Standing next to each other ole cowboy and René stand side by side with the end of a shotgun aimed at them he aims it at cowboy, then back to René and address them both 

“if you talk over each other I kill you both or you two can take yer turn and I chose who to shoot” 

They both stand there looking at each other, cowboys face now is entirely covered in blood dripping all over the floor. 

“now youse done got blood on my floor, y’all need to start speakin what the hell is goin on ‘ere” 

René see’s that the hammer on the double barrel isn’t cocked back and raises his hand the shop owner sitting in his chair struggles to stand because of his weight and squeezes his belly though the gate and approaches René he aims the shotgun at him and says 

“Got something to say blackboy?” 

René replies with his hands raised. 

“Can you allow us a moment to catch our breath before you shoot us?” 

The gun store owner breathing very heavily coughing and splattering is in the middle of saying something before he feints. With a loud thud and some tiles cracking beneath his weight, René and the cowboy snap a look at each other and scramble over the gun, one minute cowboy is about to have the next René, the cowboy jabs his spur into René’s eye and at one point René felt a small blade enter his skin all over his body in the scramble for the shotgun and they are both gushing blood and screaming the floor is a mess, the pristine white tiles now stained with bloody handprints and pools of blood, the blood flows through the crevasse between the tiles and leak outside, René cannot keep up after all the running and cowboy grabs the gun and points the barrels in the face of René and René closes his one working eye breathing heavily he thinks of Joyce then 

Click 

Click,click,click 

“Fuckers empt-“ 

René eyes flash and his eyes fill with visions of smoke and ash, it's as if fritz himself held a day the end of the barrel without moment’s notice and jams the shotgun stock into the shoulder of the cowboy then René drives his boot as hard as he can below the knee of the cowboy knocking him over falling towards him René quickly rolls to the left, René musters all of his strength to crawl to the gun, he has it now, he’s won. He plants it’s stock on the ground and uses it to support his weight, leaning on the gun counter to his left he stands, his military pants are a maroon red stained from the inside out with the blood of the cowboy and himself, jacket has seen better days, it’s also seen worse. he grabs the neck of the barrel and cracks the gun open, he was right, no shells. René locks the gun shut and grabs the end of the barrel and looks at the cowboy helpless on the floor looking up at René’s single eye, covered in blood, lying in a blood smeared shop. He speaks. 

“We went to fight, we returned from fighting, and if this is how we’re treated, we will never stop fighting. 

With that he raised the gun high above his head, and planted his boot on the cowboys face stamping his broken bloody nose out like you would with a cigarette ,in a single swift motion swung it down screaming as he performed the motion, the stock of the gun striking the cowboy square in the side of the head sending blood out of the opposite ear, the gun unlocks and opens from the impact. René tosses the gun towards the two men lying on the floor and stumbles out of the shop. The outside wind cools his body down, the stars in the sky look down at him, he looks back and in the distance a star winks at him, like it’s telling him. 

“Keep fighting” 

 

5th of May 1920 

René waits outside of the post office; he checks his wristwatch. 9:22 AM 

The post office ladies walk past him without looking at him and unlock the door, he walks to his mailbox and opens it with his key, which he has 5 spares of and inside lies a single letter, his mouth widens as he reaches for it with trembling hands and closes the hatch shut, and locks it with his key, he walks outside like a giddy child and begins walking home. 

When he reaches his suburb he opens his door gently and takes off his coat and quickly marches up stairs and goes to his study where he already has paper and pen prepared, he sits down and carefully opens the letter. 

It reads as follows. 

“To René my darling my heart yearns for you every day patiently I await your letters and every time I see them, I am given a rush a childlike wonder which I thought had left me long ago, tell me darling how is winter in the United States? Does it snow? I see many novels sold that feature the United States and they talk of deserts and outlaws how can it snow in a desert? 

I have so much to tell you and so little space to write but please update me on your money situation you mentioned you recently got rental, and your pay isn’t good how long until you can ferry here my dearest René? Love your l'amour vrai joyce” 

Located at the bottom was a lipstick mark on the paper, it was her signature, some months it was purple lipstick, sometimes red, this one was red. 

René clutched the letter firmly and kissed the lipstick mark and secured it away in a briefcase. 

With a grin René closes his eyes and says to himself “ma chère Joyce que ferais-je sans toi..” 

He clears some room on his desk and looks out the window to his left, the rain has just started and the time reads 9:48 AM 

René goes to pick up his pen and before it touches the paper there is a knock at the door, René tries to ignore it but the knocks become louder and more violent. 

 

 28th of September 1920 

A woman in a café sits, ordering Crêpe’s with strawberries, blueberries and honey with a side of black tea with 3 sugars, a stick of cinnamon and a squeeze of lemon. 

After doing a test sip the tea is still al little too hot, so she takes a deep breath and looks around the café nobody is looking at her, as it should be, she quickly delves into her purse , there it is her dearest René’s letter. she gets butterflies in her stomach when she reads his letters, she still remembers the feel of his cheek on her palm , the nice view of the city always helped her keep from throwing up because of how nervous she got, she grabs the letter and notices a few scuff marks on it, she thinks it’s odd but considering he was shipping letters to France from the united states, but when she opens the letter two bags fall out, labelled “1” and “2” 

Both of them had red marks on the bags, like finger prints, she loosened the rope around the first bag and what fell from it fell a little letter, rolled up really tight, she managed to get it lose it read as follows. 

“Your monkey is still alive we’re getting kinda bored with him, we may shoot him, stab him, fuck knows, the fella sends his kisses”. 

The letter was written with what now is evident to be his blood her heart dropped she wondered if it was real or a malicious trick, why would anyone want to hurt her precious René? She wondered, she turned the note over nothing, all that was left was the second bag, she didn’t want to open it everything in her body told her no, but it could be what saves René, she slowly unravelled the rope around the second bag and poured out a capsule , the capsule contained a pair of lips cut off a Blackman in some form of water, she threw up her breakfast as her heart sunk and cried, she was ushered out of the café with her letter. 

For 8 years Joyce would send letters to the Louisiana Jamrock PD, Joyce didn’t even know if they would read the letters, she got nothing back from them she even sent money in them, she sent money to René, however they would just pile up in his mailbox and eventually his mailbox got bought out and the letters thrown away. Joyce ended up getting Tuberculosis and for what time she had left she was getting weaker and weaker Joyce tried writing but as she grew weaker the nurses allowed her less and less time, she would show them drawings of René and the rare photographs of René and tell them all about him but they must have thought she had lost it, and played along,  

Joyce died in 1927 12:05 PM to tuberculosis in a hospital located within Paris. Holding onto a letter she received almost 8 years ago. 

 

René Fought to the bitter end, like many African American men who served in WW1. This story is a tribute to the many untold stories in history of Racial Tenison in the United States, France and the United Kingdom just to name a few countries. 

 They did not die for nothing, their deaths, Sparked the flames change.