William sat on the bench. He looked now like one of those odd sculptures we had in the parks- a man made of black metal sitting on the bench.
-Alabama, the Beautiful,- he said, ”Yes, that’s how it was. A black man would feel sorry for a white girl, they kiss, she then gets scared, accuses him of iznasilovanie ( rape- MS) and the whole Hell breaks loose. Here, in this country girls like us.”
He smiled at Tanka. It was a good smile. She blushed.
William carefully closed the book and put it on the bench,
-You do not have to read that,- he said, “Here you have such books of your own. The books full of Death.”
-Never heard of those,-Tanka said.
-I read one,- I said. “It was about Chapaev, that Civil War hero.”
-What about him? He was funny.
-In the movie he was funny, In the book though they tell what happened when the enemy counterattacked and captured some small towns. If they had read those pages during the class we would have comas. It was Death, real one. The one that stinks.
William hugged all of us.
-Let it go,- he said, “This is not for you.”
-Iznasilovanie,- I said, “What is that?”
Tanka suddenly became angry, “Leave him alone, you two. Poshli ( Come-MS), William. We had enough.”
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