GREETINGS (or GREEN GITS)

Please be informed that this story contains brief profanity and two uses of the N-word, in context and not gratuitous. This story also has physical violence and themes of racism.

It was the Ridder’s first Christmas party for work friends and they were nervous. They tried their best to present a warm and welcoming atmosphere for their guests. Their house reflected the affluence they had earned through hard work and dedication to their respective jobs. The interior of their two-story Georgian house was both proud and simple at the same time. Melanie insisted to Shy that their African heritage be represented in the interior design of the home. Masks and statues from Melanie’s ancestral country were spread about the living area, while Shy was more invested in the photographs of extended family that decorated the mantle of the fireplace.

           “When are you going to finally have children, Mel?” Tanya asked the hostess in a hushed tone.

           “I just gained tenure at the university, Tan,” Melanie replied. “I really don’t have time for children right now. My work is my life. How are your boys, then?”

            “Oh, them,” Tanya said, dismissively. “You know teenagers. They want nothing to do with us old people. They barely say two words to me!”

           “Sounds like an attractive proposition.”

           “Oh, yes! You can’t miss it!” Tanya said with an inviting smile. “So, where’s Shy? I haven’t seen him all evening?”

           Melanie shook her head.

“He’s working his business buddies over by the tree. He never shuts it down. There’s always a deal to be made. Even at Christmas.”

“My Donnie used to be that way, too. That’s one of the reasons why we’re divorced,” Tanya said, dryly.

“I don’t want to divorce him, I just want to slow him down a little,” Melanie said.

“Oh, isn’t this lovely!” Tanya cried, looking at the display atop the Ridder’s television set.

“Thanks! I just bought it yesterday,” Melanie said. “I thought it was cute.”

On top of the television set were nine small wooden blocks, painted green, with the letters G-R-E-E-T-I-N-G-S in red. Atop each block, on a wooden stick, were different Christmas themed ornaments. The “G” was decorated with a Santa Claus, the “R” with a wooden soldier, the “E” with a snowman, and so forth.

“It’s really festive,” Tanya said. “Tell me where you got it.”

Melanie told Tanya and they separated. Melanie walked across the living room to her husband Shy and tapped him on the shoulder from behind.

“Building more skyscrapers?” Melanie said, interrupting his conversation with two colleagues.

“Hey, honey! Matt and Hank, have you met my wife? This is Melanie,” Shy said.

The three exchanged greetings.

“You’re a lucky man, Shy,” Matt said, holding up his glass up champagne. “Thank you for having us over your beautiful house, Melanie.”

“Yes, I especially love the masks,” Hank said. “Are they Egyptian?”

“Ethiopian, actually,” Melanie replied. “Did you know Ethiopia had a civilization as large and extensive as the Egyptians? It’s not a well-known because it’s never been properly excavated.”

“I didn’t know that,” Hank said, laughing. “I came to a party and learned an interesting tidbit.”

“My people’s culture and its legacy are not a tidbit, Hank,” Melanie said.

“Take it easy, honey,” Shy said, smiling an uneasy smile and putting his arm around Melanie’s waist. “Hank meant no offense.”

“Of course not, I’m sorry if I offended you, Melanie,” Hank said, apologetically.

 Melanie smiled. “No worries. Let me refill your glass.”

Melanie walked to the table they had set up as a bar and refilled Hank’s glass with more champagne. Her best friend, Jade, sidled up next to her and poured herself a vodka and tonic.

“What was that about?” Jade asked.

           “It was nothing,” Melanie replied. “An asshole.”

           “Yeah, looks like one. Who is he? I don’t recognize him. Is he one of Shy’ friends?”

“He works with him. I don’t know if they’re friends.”

           “Don’t you two have any black work friends? We’re the only black couple here," Jade asked surveying the room.

            “No, not that are coming. I know, it’s sad, but architecture and higher education need more African-Americans. I’m the only one in the sociology department. I have to get this glass back to the asshole, catch you soon, dear,” Melanie said.

           Melanie delivered the glass to Hank who apologized again.

           “It’s forgotten,” Melanie said. “So, what are you boys talking about?”      

           They told Melanie but she wasn’t listening. As soon as she could get away she made her excuses and found Jade and her husband, Cooper, by the fireplace looking at the photographs.

           “I love these frames.” Cooper said. “Is that very unmanly of me to say?”

           All three laughed.

           “It’s all Shy’s doing, so you probably should like them,” Melanie said. “They have a man’s touch.”

           “She’s in charge of Ethiopia and Shy’s in charge of the frames,” Jade said.

           “Sounds like a fair deal,” Cooper said. “I’m not in charge of anything.”

           “Except spending money on football games,” Jade said, her mouth turned sideways.

           “Let’s break it up,” Melanie said. “Go to your neutral corners until you hear the bell. Listen, I’d love to stay but I have to mingle. Yuck! Kill me now.”

           “You go, girl. Knock ’em dead!” Jade said. “Tap your elbow twice if you need me to come in and save you.”

           “Will do.”

           Melanie went from circle to circle of guests and engaged in idle banter.

           “So how long have you been a sociology professor, Melanie?” Doug asked. He was Shy’s boss and Shy asked her to be especially nice to him.

           “For thirteen years, but I’ve only been in town for three years, just like Shy,” Melanie replied with a big smile. “Can I freshen your drink, Doug? Would you like anything to eat? Is the temperature in the house okay?”

           “Everything is fine, thank you, Melanie.”

           Melanie laughed. “That’s just great. Just ask if you need anything.” Jerk, she thought to herself.

           “Oh, my God!” Jade cried out from across the room. “Melanie! Get over here! Fast!”

           “Excuse me, Doug,” Melanie said, trying to remain under control. She walked quickly to Jade who was pointing at the television which was not turned on. Melanie couldn’t see the emergency.

           “What? What is it, Jade?” Melanie asked, at a loss.

           “On top!” Jade pointed.

           Melanie saw the reason for Jade’s alarm.

           “Oh, no! It can’t be!” Melanie exclaimed.

           The letters atop the television spelling out the word “GREETINGS” had been rearranged to spell “NIGGER SET.”

           Everyone in the room now had their attention drawn to the commotion by the television and word soon spread of the incident that had happen. A murmur like a stone in a pond rippled throughout the room.

           “Hank!” Melanie yelled out. “You did this! Where are you? Come here, you bastard!”

           Hank wiggled through the guests who had now crowded around the television to get a look at the slur.

           “I resent that!” Hank replied. “I’m no racist! I was nowhere near the TV. Plus, I was with Matt the entire evening, he can vouch for me.”

           “Well, I did go to the bathroom a couple times,” Matt said.

           “Matt! Give me a break!” Hank said.

           “You resent me for chiding you, admit it!” Melanie said.

           “I do not,” Hank responded. “You were perfectly fair.”

           “If you didn’t do it then who did?” Melanie asked.

           “How about the person closest to the TV?” Hank suggested. “You, you were standing right there. What about you? You must have seen something. Speak up for yourself.”

           “Hey, I work with Melanie every day. Why would I do it?” the man said. “I didn’t see anything. I just came over here.”

           “You did it because you wanted my position but they went outside the department to hire me,” Melanie said. "You know it’s true, Rick. Say so!”

           “Well, so what if it’s true. Yeah, I admit I wanted your position,” Rick said.

           “But they gave it to a nigger instead. Is that it, Rick?” Shy said, appearing next to Melanie from the kitchen where he had been observing the scene.

           “No, that’s not it and I don’t use that word. I never have,” Rick said.

           “That’s not true,” a women said, who was standing next to Rick.

           “Shut up, Jennifer” Rick demanded.

           “I’m his wife and he uses the N-word all the time,” Jennifer said. “And frankly, it makes me sick.”

           “Why you bitch, I could slap you right now!”

           Rick raised his hand and Jennifer cowered, but a man standing behind him held his arm back.

           “We won’t have any of that,” Doug said. Rick lowered his arm,

           “Where are our jackets?” Rick said. “We’re leaving.”

           Shy volunteered to get the jackets.

           On his way out the door Rick addressed the living room one last time.

           “Just for the record, I didn’t do it. But I did see who did it, and wouldn’t you bunch of assholes like to know who it really was! You’d be surprised!” Rick turned around and slammed the door on his way out.

           Everyone agreed that Rick was lying and that he was the one who had rearranged the blocks and created the vile racial epithet. Jade went to the television to put the blocks back in their proper order.

           “No, don’t!” Melanie said. “I believe him.”

           A low rumble spread through the guests. Everyone looked at each other with suspicion. Stranger questioned stranger. Friend questioned friend.

           “I think it probably was Rick, honey,” Shy said, softly. “Let’s continue the party and forget about this nasty business.”

           “No, someone in this room is a racist and I’m gonna root them out,” Melanie said, determined to find her offender. She walked up to an Asian couple. “Where are you from?”

           “I’m from South Korea,” the man answered. “My name is Ha-joon Park. Why are you accusing me?”

           “You Koreans don’t like us blacks do you?” Melanie asked.

           “Cool it, Mel. Ha-joon is a good friend,” Shy said, stepping in. “We don’t have any business accusing him of anything.”

           “Yeah, I can vouch for the Parks, they were with me all night,” a man next to them with a southern accent said.

           “And who are you, pardner?” Melanie said.

           “Are you making fun of my accent, ma’am? And by extension are you accusing me of that evil deed? Because if you are you’re being as racist as that person was, I tell you what.”

           “Do you say so?” Melanie said. “I think you’re using your aggressiveness to cover for your so-called evil deed.”

           “It was probably him,” Hank said.

           “Do you have a problem with me,” the southern man said to Hank.

           “Depends. Do you have a problem with Black people?” Hank said.

           “Come here and say that to my face!”

           “I will, asshole!”

           “Get him!” Ha-joon said.

           There was a scuffle as Hank and the southern man came to blows. Shy tried to play peacemaker and separate the two but fists were thrown before he was successful. Blood was streaming out the nose of the southern man and down his face and chest.

           “You’re a dead man, motherfucker!” the southern man yelled as two men restrained him. Shy and Doug held back Hank.

           “Not unless I get you first, you dick!” Hank said.

           “If I was a dick I’d be in your mouth!” the southern man replied.

           Melanie stifled a laugh.

           “Alright, the party’s over,” Shy announced. “Everyone out.”

           “I still haven’t found my racist,” Melanie complained.

           “You found Rick,” Shy rejoined. “That’s gonna have to be enough,”

           Melanie sulked but still asked Jade to help her get the guest’s jackets from the hall closet.

           “Don’t worry, Mel,” Jade said on her way out, “the creep will burn in hell.”

           “I’m sure he will. Love you, honey,” Melanie replied and kissed her friend goodbye.

            Shy and Mel looked over the wreckage of their living room once everyone was gone. Glasses and plates littered the tables and chairs. There was blood on the carpet where the southern man had bled. The Christmas tree lights twinkled. The flames in the fireplace crackled.

           “I hope you’re satisfied. You sure tore up the room. Did you get everything you needed for your little sociology experiment?” Shy asked.

           “It was exceptionally fruitful,” Melanie replied. “But how did you manage to rearrange the letters without anyone seeing?”