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WARNING! Grossly coarse language.

PART SEVENTY-NINE

As Caleb continued past the McNutt driveway Skylar shouted, “You missed it!”

Caleb shook his head, went forward another thirty feet and, after circling the turn-around at the end of Black Lake Road, backed into an opening between the underbrush. “Nah,” he said to Skylar, “I didn’t miss it. I just didn’t want to pull into the driveway. You and me needs to get reacquainted some.

“Fer starters, why you hanging out with Jews?”

Skylar’s brow scrunched. “You mean at school? Rachel’s nice.”

“Rachel?” Caleb asked. “I thought your little Jew-baby friend’s name was Sara.”

“What are you asking me? Sara ain’t Jewish, Rachel is.

“When I started school in January, Rachel asked where the Chanukah bulletin board was cuz Miss Shannon had tooked it down and put stuff up about Martin Luther King. Sara told me Miss Shannon had put up a bulletin board about Christmas and Chanukah and Kwanzaa.

“Sara told me they did little celebrations and sang songs for Christmas and Chanukah and Kwanzaa. I missed it cuz I wasn’t in no school around Christmas because that’s when I left Chalybeate and in Chalybeate we didn’t do none of that Chanukah or Kwanzaa stuff, just some Christmas decorations. My teacher, Mrs. Ananagostiatis, didn’t do none of that Chanukah or Kwanzaa stuff, so I was sorry I missed it.”

“Chalybeate?” Caleb asked. “You said you was living in Walnut.”

“Uh-huh,” Skylar acknowledged, nodding her head. “But I didn’t go to Walnut Elementary, I went to Chalybeate.”

“And this teacher you got now, this, Miss Shannon? She took down a bulletin board about Chanukah and Kwanzaa and put one up about Martin Lucifer King? Good God almighty,” Caleb said, shaking his head. “Listen, Skylar, I own’t know what the hell your mama or your teachers’ been filling your head with but get this straight. Chanukah is for Jews and Kwanzaa is for niggers, and you ain’t either one of them. Not by a long shot. You are a direct descendant of Adam and Eve, unsullied and clean. That’s why we’re white, because we’re unsullied. You can’t be listening to this one-world, one-government, socialist-conspiracy crap. We’re white, and white makes right. You remember that, you hear?”

“Yes, sir,” Skylar replied, eyes downcast.

“Uhm, why you think Mama told us that we was dead? I mean, told me you was dead and told you I was dead?”

Caleb exhaled hard. “That’s a good question. I own’t know. I think it’s the same reason they’re teaching Kwanzaa and Chanukah and Martin Lucifer in the schools. Because the mud-people are taking over. They’re taking over and even a proud Aryan like your mama can get polluted. You know if she was running with nigger men while I was in prison?”

“We ain’t supposed to use that word, Daddy. It’s hurtful.”

“Oh, my God. Your mind has been filled with mud-people lies. Calling a spade, a spade ain’t hateful, it’s telling the truth, an you know what they say, ‘Tell the truth and shame the devil.’ World needs more truth.

“Your mama and me’s gonna have to have a long, long talk.”