This Whitewash World of Ours Page 3

Page 3

         “Sorry, today just hasn’t gone right.” He wiped his cheeks and his nose turned bright red. I didn’t mention anything to make him more upset. My biggest pet peeve was seeing him hurt.

          “How about this, we still have 2 hours to kill. Do you want to go down to the harbor and have funnel cakes?” Jasmeet sniffled a little bit.

           “Only if they have Nutella to put on top,” he replied. I chuckled and began to drive.

           “Ok, we can go to Joffrey’s.” I began to drive to Brooklyn.

          We drove about twenty minutes to a small shack by the harbor with a huge sign that said ‘Joffrey’s Fun Funnel Cakes’. We walked in and bought two funnel cakes. I had powdered sugar and strawberries on top of mine. I looked over to Jasmeet who was drowning his in thick layers of Nutella. We walked over to the rocky ledge of the water below us. Rocks were piled on top of each other looking over the Hudson River. Jasmeet sat down with his half-massacred funnel cake, and I followed. It began to snow and the wind began to bite at us. But we stayed. We looked at the lights from the 9/11 memorial across the water. It was silent for a few minutes.

         “It’s sad isn’t it?” Jasmeet broke the silence.

         “What?”

         “9/11. So many people died and many suffered all because of hate. It’s funny what hate can make you do.” I didn’t reply, I continued eating my cake. I looked down and saw a tennis racquet case below us.

       “Oh look! Someone left their tennis racquet!” I picked up the elongated black case and looked at it. Jasmeet gently took it from my hand.

       “Oh yeah! I needed a new racquet anyway!” Jasmeet smiled bigger than I had seen all day.

      “Jasmeet, that isn’t yours!”

      “I know Didi, but it is now.” He did a slug laugh and I shook my head.

      “We have one last funnel cake guys! Joffrey’s funnel cakes, one last one for free!” Jasmeet’s face turned to me in excitement.

      “Didi! Can you please get it for me?” I looked at his excited face, and groaned.

      “Stay right here, do not leave!” I yelled at him while running to the shack behind us.

      “Love you!” I rolled my eyes and ran to Joffrey.

      “Hi Mr. Joffrey! Can I have the last free one?” Joffrey looked at me with a warm smile.

      “Of course sweetheart!” As he handed me the funnel cake, a look of disgust covered his kind face. I turned around to see a black Chevy Pickup Truck, with a massive Confederate flag drive by. The light from the shack shone into the window giving me a clear view of the driver. The car slowly rolled forward, like a lion coming upon its prey. I saw a man with hate gleaming in his blue eyes, brownish­red hair and a scarred lip. I looked at his American flag license frame. My eyes dove down to the number. GOD911. GOD911. GOD911. The license plate was socketed into my brain, like my mother’s number. I began to walk back to Jasmeet with this Nutella­drowned funnel cake, when I saw the Chevy come to a screeching stop. I saw Jasmeet’s silhouette getting up from the rocks. The outline of his turban was prominent, and the tennis racquet case’s thick black outline gleamed. I looked at the truck again but this time in the open window. I saw the man in the truck reach into the leather glove compartment right next to him. He pulled out a sleek, greasy, black gun and gripped it firmly. My heart began to race miles per minute. The man aimed the menacing devil at Jasmeet. I dropped the Funnel cake in my hand and began to run to Jasmeet who was across the one-lane road.

      “Jasmeet! Get down now!” I began to sprint as fast I had ever run in my life. My feet hit the floor faster than a Hummingbird’s heartbeat. Faster Simran, faster! My feet hit the dirt below me with a rhythmic beat, until it ended. My heels dug into the dirt road, as I stopped in a dead halt. I saw Jasmeet’s face smiling back at me through the dim lights of the bridge. His smile was that of an angel’s. Bang. Defense. Bang. Voluntary manslaughter.

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