Guess Who’s Coming to (Sunday) Dinner

Malcolm Stokes, a middle-aged African-American man is putting the silverware out on an elegantly set table in his suburban home. He’s wearing jeans, a button-down shirt and a sweater vest.

“Mal, the small forks go to the right of the big forks,” says Gail Stokes, Malcolm’s Caucasian wife. She takes the rest of the silverware from her husband and shakes her head as she completes the settings. “What am I going to do with you?”

“I really don’t see the point of all this effort, hon. Do you really think this one will be any better than the previous ones?”

Gail looks at Malcolm sternly. “Listen. Our daughter didn’t ask to be born to a mixed-race couple. We love each other and obviously adore Emmy, but she quite frankly has had some difficulty fitting in at times. Now that she’s older, she’s going to be interested in male companionship. The least we can do is host a nice family dinner and show what a great family she has.”

“Yeah, I get that, Gail, but some of her choices…and she’s not a kid anymore. She’s going to be twenty-six. She can’t live here forever.”

“Mal, give her a break. She’s not hanging around the basement playing video games—“

“Like my brother?” asks Malcolm.

“Let’s put that discussion aside for another day, shall we? I was just going to say that she is finishing her PhD. Once she completes, she’ll get a job and move out.”

“From your mouth to God’s ears. She mentioned something about a post-doc the other day…and who knows if she’ll be able to find a job? What the hell is epidemiology anyway?”

“It’s basically the analysis of the causes and effects of health and disease in populations, but I don’t expect you to retain that better than the last fifty times I’ve told you that Daddy,” says Emerald Stokes, a somewhat Rubenesque woman with light skin, short dreadlocks and stunning green eyes.

“Emmy, how long have you been skulking around and listening in?” asks Malcolm.

“Not skulking and not listening, but I’m sure that I can guess most of the conversation,” says Emerald. “And here is my standard contribution…Pleeeeease try to be nice and refrain from embarrassing me.”

“He will, sweetheart. I will be sitting right next to him wearing heels,” says Gail.

“Damn,” says Malcolm, “I’ll be good. Last time my feet were black and blue for a month. But Emmy, why do we have to do this on Sunday afternoon during the season. The Niners are playing at four.”

“The Niners are oh and six, Mal,” says Gail. “She’s doing you a favor.”

The doorbell rings. Emerald gives her father a pleading look and runs toward the door followed by her parents. Emerald opens the door to a light-skinned man with a beard and an extremely large afro. He’s wearing khakis, a button-down shirt and a tie. He is also holding a nice bouquet of flowers.

“For me?” asks Emerald, as she takes the flowers.

“Actually, they are for your mom,” the man says, with a tinge of embarrassment.

“Mom, Daddy, this is my new boyfriend Colin…Colin Kaepernick,” says Emerald.

Gail and Malcolm are momentarily stunned. Malcolm mouths the words, “What the fuck?” but no sound comes out. After an extremely awkward pause, Gail reaches out and takes the flowers from Colin. She hands them to Malcolm and takes Colin’s hand to lead him to the dining room. Malcolm still has not moved.

“Um, Malcolm,” sputters Gail, as she elbows him out of the way, “can you help me find a vase for these um…lovely flowers in the kitchen while Emmy shows uh…Colin to the table?” She pushes Malcolm into the kitchen.

“Malcolm, snap out of it,” whispers Gail. “What are we going to do?”

“You said you wanted our daughter to be happy,” he says, with not a small amount of sarcasm. “Let’s just get in there and find out how much of a disaster this is.” He picks up the salad bowl with his free hand and heads into the dining room with Gail following.

Emerald and Colin are sitting next to each other when Malcolm comes in and places the salad on the table. He suddenly realizes that he is still holding the flowers and absently jams them into the water pitcher that Gail had earlier put out for the dinner. She shakes her head with embarrassment, picks up the pitcher and places it on the sideboard. Malcolm glares at his daughter the entire time.

“Thank you for inviting me to your lovely home,” says Colin. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you and I’m really fond of your daughter.”

“Well, at least we agree on one thing,” says Gail, as she begins passing around the salad bowl.

“We don’t do this at every meal,” says Malcolm, “but since we obviously need some divine guidance here, let’s say grace.”

Colin slides back from the table and kneels down on one knee.

Malcolm throws his head back in anguish. “Jesus Christ almighty…”

After an awkward pause and a jab of her heel into her husband’s foot, Gail jumps in with, “Um, thank you for this bounty, amen,”

Emerald beams at Colin as he returns to his seat.

“Pardon me, Colin,” says Malcolm. “We usually don’t get such an overt display during grace.”

“Nonsense,” says Gail. “When Emmy was dating that Tebow boy, he was on his knees constantly. Remember miniature golf? He prayed at every hole.”

“Mom!” says Emerald. “Can we talk about something else, please? Colin is a Christian, you know. His tattoos depict psalms and prayers.”

Colin rolls up his sleeve to show Psalm 27:3.

“His entire back is covered with a picture of angels defeating demons.”

One look at her parent’s faces compels Colin to change the subject yet again. “I’m curious how you came up with the name Emerald for your daughter,” he says.

“As you can see,” says Gail, “Emmy has the most stunning green eyes. Even though they say that a baby’s eye color will change, she had them from the second she opened her eyes. As soon as we saw them, we knew what name we had to pick.”

“Really?” says Colin. “I just assumed it was coincidence. Anyway, I like to call her Yakootah.”

Gail sputters and a small morsel of carrot pops out of her mouth into her water glass.

“Pardon me. Ya-what?” asks Malcolm.

“When I was in Ghana,” says Colin, “I found out that the name Yakootah means Emerald.”

“That really rolls off the tongue,” says Malcolm.

“Look, Mr. Stokes,” says Colin. “I get the impression that you have something to ask me. By the way, Mrs. Stokes, the salad is great.”

“Thank you, Colin,” says Gail, “but I’m the one with the question. How can you be so disrespectful to the flag and our veterans? Did you know that Emmy’s father served in the Air Force?”

Colin turns to face Malcolm. “While that is something that your lovely daughter failed to mention to me, I thank you for your service. Did you see combat, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“No, Colin. I got out just before Desert Shield, but I have many friends who were there and gave up a lot for their country.”

“Which country, Daddy? Texaco or Exxon?” asks Emerald.

“Don’t you be disrespectful for your father, young lady,” says Gail. “I just don’t understand how someone with so much, can be against police and soldiers.”

“If you will allow me to explain,” says Colin, “I meant no disrespect to anyone in that group other than bad cops.”

“But the flag represents all Americans,” says Gail.

“As a symbol, I’d have to agree with you,” says Colin, “but I’m sure you’d have to agree that may people in this country are not treated with the same level of fairness as others. I feel that among the most disenfranchised are the young men of color, particularly when there is no justice for those gunned down in the street.”

“But who are you to speak for everyone,” asks Malcolm, “no, anyone else? Hold on. Let me rephrase that. Emmy, go get the roast and vegetables. We may as well eat before I whup this boy’s behind. What I mean to say is, ‘Who the Hell made you a prophet?’ I mean, you’re wealthy, and you’re only half black.”

“I’m pretty sure your daughter can tell you that in this country, any part black is considered by many to be all black,” says Colin. “And Mrs. Stokes, I’m sure that as the spouse of an African-American, you have walked in similar shoes.

Emerald rushes in with the platter and passes it to Colin to take a portion. “Daddy, you always raised me to stand up for those who had less than we did.”

“I know, baby, but this is so…so big. I grew up in the projects in Oakland and my father wasn’t around. My two brothers, two sisters and I all got a college education and got out of that life. We respected the cops.”

“And you weren’t running in the streets at all hours,” says Gail. “Nothing good happens after midnight.”

“Mr. Stokes, for an African-American man such as yourself—“

“Black,” says Malcolm. “I’m a black man.”

“Okay,” says Colin,” for a black man to achieve what you have is amazing, but what about all of the others?”

“Who’s others?” asks Malcolm. “Weren’t you raised in the suburbs by white parents?”

“Excuse me there, big fella,” says Gail. “You make it sound like a curse. I assume you are aware that I too, was raised by white parents in the suburbs. For God’s sake, Mal. We met at a protest.”

“Seriously, Gail?” says Malcolm. “After all of these years, you still think I gave a rat’s ass about nuclear energy? The only reason I went to that protest was get into your pants.”

“Must you be so crude? Of course I know that. I knew it then, only in my version, you were more smitten than horny.”

“I think I’m going to vomit,” says Emerald. “Daddy, how would you like it if I brought home a guy who had a 4.0 GPA in high school, graduated from college with a four-year degree in say, Business Management and is even a Kappa, just like you?”

“Now you’re talking,” says Malcolm. “Why can’t you date that guy?”

“I am! He’s sitting right across from you! And you know what else? He also led your team to a Super Bowl!”

“Hmm, a Kappa, huh?” says Malcolm. “If you don’t mind me asking, what was your Wonderlic score?”

“I normally don’t discuss this because I feel that that test, like most ‘intelligence’ tests, are culturally biased.”

“Wait,” says Gail. “What is a Wonderlic?”

“Mom, it’s a test given to all potential NFL football players. Colin got a 37 which is well above average. The scores run from zero to fifty and the mean is about 24.”

“Is 37 high for quarterbacks?” asks Malcolm.

“Again” says Colin, “I ascribe little value to this, but yes, and I did beat Brady, Peyton Manning and Aaron Rogers. Since you’re a Niner fan, you might also be interested that I beat Steve Young and Joe Montana. Of course, in the interest of full disclosure, Blaine Gabbert got a 42.”

“Are you sure a high number is good?” asks Malcolm.

“Maybe it’s like your blood sugar,” says Gail. “Colin, there’s something else I have a problem with. I think it was unfair to your employer to do your protest at work. I mean, most people would be fired instantly if they did the same thing while on the job, including policemen.”

“I will agree that this was a problem for my employer and it did contribute to me not renewing my contract.”

“How’s that working out for you?” asks Malcolm.

“Obviously, not well,” says Colin. “It is not unlike me being fired in that as a free agent, I cannot find gainful employment in my field. I imagine you’ve heard that I have filed suit against the NFL for collusion in this matter.”

“But how could you prove that” asks Gail. “Surely an employer has the right to not hire an employee with a clear record of …of…”

“Revolution?” asks Malcolm.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Daddy. “Do you really think that teams aren’t hiring significantly worse quarterbacks?”

“Sure,” says Malcolm. “Just look at the Niners. Brian Hoyer? Now they’re starting this nobody named C. J. Beathard from Iowa. I never heard of him.”

“I’ll bet you’ve heard of his grandfather,” says Colin, “ long-time white NFL General Manager, Bobby Beathard…just sayin’.”

“But collusion involves all of the teams, doesn’t it?” asks Gail. “Certainly the Patriots and a few other teams have no need for another quarterback.”

“I’ll have to leave that in the hands of the lawyers, I suppose,” says Colin.

“I think he has a good case,” says Emerald. “The NFL has decided not to punish protesters and no other players have been blackballed.”

“If you think that missing the game is difficult for you,” says Colin, “imagine how I feel.”

“You made your bed.” says Malcolm.

“I’m not so sure,” says Gail. “He certainly could not have expected it to reach this magnitude.”

“True,” says Colin, “but the point of the protest was to raise awareness. I seem to have accomplished that much.”

“Have you?” asks Malcolm. “As far as I can see, most people have missed the point. Both sides are boycotting the NFL for completely different reasons, and many are convinced that you are un-American.”

“And yet, protest is a cornerstone of Americanism,” says Emerald.

“Sadly, as is racism,” says Colin.

Everyone is quiet for a moment.

“Knowing what you know now,” asks Malcolm, “would you still have done it?”

“That’s a very good question,” says Colin, “a very good question indeed.”

Copyright

© Robert O’Connell and http://www.thesmartestguyiknow.wordpress.com, 2011-2016. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Robert O’Connell and http://www.thesmartestguyiknow.wordpress.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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