Page 28 of The Other Side of Green

“Morning.” I pushed my hand through my hair. “I was hoping for a shower.”

Mom’s eyes flicked from the television and she gave me a smile. “Didn’t you say you’d been at Berklee?”

“Uh, yeah.” A ball morphed into existence in the pit of my stomach. “Why?”

“Those white boys are getting in trouble.” She frowned back at the screen and waved her fingers while I zoned in on what the words running along the bottom were saying.

Benefactors under fire for exclusivity.

Oh.

Strangely, I had nothing.

I watched some more, just to check that they were in fact talking about the Collins family.

“Oh shit,” I exclaimed as the camera’s view changed and swung around to show a group of protestors standing outside the steps to the library. In their hands, held high in the air, were placards stating: No More Racism. Fair Rights for All.

“What’s going on there, Jack?”

I winced, scrunching my face and Mom studied my expression with her instinctive shit-detecting scrutiny. “What haven’t you told me?”

Okay, so I’d left out some essential facts during my talk with Mom into the early hours.

“Well, you know, a lot of these old institutions are run by old money.” I shrugged, unwilling to divulge how tightly I’d been bound to these ‘Old money ways’.

Lufette grumbled into his coffee.

“Sorry, what was that?” I asked.

“I said, this country is rotten to its core.”

“Wow, that’s patriotic from a member of our law enforcement.”

“These families, the ones with the money, they shouldn’t be allowed to dictate what happens in the life of everyday citizens.”

I nodded. “I completely agree, but then you also have to remember they give opportunities to kids who normally wouldn’t have any.” Like me... assuming you want to dance with the devil and live with the consequences.

“White kids,” he countered.

I couldn’t argue with that, but I pointed to the screen. “Looks like their time is up.”

A face I recognized came into view on the screen. Lyra’s little roommate. “It shouldn’t be allowed.” Her cheeks were puffed with exertion and vitriol. “Talent should be based on talent, not the color of your skin. People who think only persons of white skin should get all the opportunities should come and join the rest of us in the twenty first century.”

She had some of Lyra’s firecracker traits and it made me grin as I lifted the cup of coffee Mom passed me to my lips.

The screen slipped back to a reporter stood on the looped campus road I’d been driving around just the other day.

“One of America’s most distinguished music colleges is under fire today for racist practices in its admissions policy.” She told the camera. “It comes as evidence the exclusive scholarship offered to one student each academic year was rigged to ensure inclusivity.”

The camera cut back to Eva. “A student should be honored for their skill, not the color of their skin.”

“Well, they aren’t wrong.” Lufette took a sip of his coffee.

Mom banged her mug down making Lufette and me startle. “Hold on a minute. They aren’t talking about Lyra’s scholarship, are they?” She stared at me wide eyed. “If anyone deserves a golden ticket to college it’s Lyra.”

I winced. Maybe I’d left out a lot of my ‘start from the beginning and don’t stop until you get to the end,’ last night after all. “Mom, she couldn’t play when she arrived, not a note.”

“Well, that’s not right, she’s incredibly talented.”