‘The ladies on the bus all gossiped. They worked at the homes of the folks where the bus stopped at. The bus stop on the street with the yellow house and the dog that always bit me and chewed up my toys as my ‘father’ said, “good dog!” would stop at the house next door. Anna-Marie lived on the corner, the Poland’s next door; Mimi, Marc and David— and the bus stopped right at the very spot the Poland’s left their trash cans ….one day I kicked a can but didn’t realize till it flew up in the air that —it had remnants of cheap beer….till it emptied upon me….i stank of it after and had to vomit…. men covered in green tattoos always stepped off the bus….one man I saw from mommy’s window every day….a damp cigar hanging always from his loose lips….but this day ….i got on with Annie. I trusted her. She was different from ….Mattie….who said things she thought I was too young to understand, as if I were even deaf….those ladies worked as maids on the blocks by where we lived ….pastel painted Miami homes….i got on the bus with Annie. She took my hand, we took seats behind the driver on the left…. ‘is that the little princess of the cats? She got no place now, pass for white anyhow with that creamy skin….pass for white, but she ain’t nothing but a mulatto and will never belong anywhere—wrong side of the blanket, too bad as that king didn’t do nothing for us folk, we still serving the master and she jus bastard pass for white trash….”
but what did it mean?
Why did she hate me?
How did she know me….know who I was ….when nobody at home ever even saw me ….or knew I was even there ….i was invisible ….after he never ….came to see me again.’
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