What Do You Mean Race?

What Do You Mean Race (?): Let’s have some wine

John W. Gilmore

He finally opened the door and I rushed in. I walked over to the blazing fire and stood in front of it. I turned to him, removing my gloves and heavy coat. “It is so cold out there! I can even hear the wind howling in here! Snow is piled in drifts so high I could barely get here. I just don’t understand why you stay on this planet, Jim.”

“Well, I figure there is no place better. I have a wife here, a family, and a few friends. Where else would I go, Tony? I’ve been to two or three planets and stayed in settlements all over the east corner of the galaxy, but you know what? They all have their problems.”

“But you moved here to get away from them, and this problem is a lot worse.”

“Well I’ll just have to deal with it then.” He stood, walked over to the window and looked out. There was nothing out there, but snow and wind. The cabin was warm, but small--no more than a small bedroom and an open plan living room and kitchen. That’s all there was. There was a small outhouse nearby with a luxurious bathroom. I would rather live in the bathroom than his house.

He turned back to me. “So when are you going to settle down and get a family?” I took a seat on the couch in front of the fireplace.”

“When I find the right one.”

“You still hanging out with that alien are you? That transgender being.”

“Yeah. Belinda. We’re great friends. I kind of like her.”

“And how do you know it’s a her?”

“She says she is.” I shrugged.

“Well, you gonna marry her?” He sat in the rocking chair across from the couch.

“I don't know. We are so different. I’m sure you know what I mean.”

“I do. I really do. But these are different times. These are new times. We aren’t in our little boxes anymore. We are travelling the galaxy. We knew sooner or later we would come in contact with aliens, and guess what; when two people meet, or should I say beings, there is a universal connection. That connection is called love.”

“I agree, but…”

“But. Don’t blow it Tony. Love is hard to find, you know; almost as hard as the perfect place,” He said. He grinned. He got up, walked into the kitchen, and took a pot of coffee from the stove and began to pour himself a cup. “You want some of this?”

“Yeah.” I stood and walked over. “I’ll take anything hot in this world where it’s freezing. I just shiver listening to the sound of that wind.”

“That includes Belinda?” He asked. “I bet she’s pretty hot to catch your eye. Yet again, I’m not supposed to say anything like that am I? Oops.”

“Yeah. I’m sure you wouldn’t be saying it if Gracie was here. By the way, where is she?”

“They are at my mother-in-law's house. I told her and Byron you were coming so they split.”

“What, am I that bad? You been warning Byron about his crazy godfather or something?”

“No. They just thought we might want to have a little time alone. And...this is the only space we have, unless you wanted to sleep in the bathroom and then get up and tromp out into the cold every time somebody had to go.”

“No thank you. I did want to see them again before I left though.”

“And where you going?”

“I’m going to meet Belinda’s parents on Cigna 3. They’ve been waiting to meet me. Believe me, I don’t know how they will react to a one gender being, as they politely refer to me. I can’t help that though.”

“So this is serious. How do you react to a transgender being? I mean, doesn’t it feel strange to...you know?”

“A little bit. It’s like, I love what’s on the inside a whole lot, and half of what is on the outside, but the other part, I don’t want to touch. Does that sound terrible? It makes me feel bad to feel that way.”

“Depends on who you ask,” Jim said. “Anyway,” they clinked cups. “I’m glad you found love and are going for it.” We began to drink again in silence. “So what do you want to do?” Jim finally asked. “How often do you get a chance to spend a weekend not having to do anything?”

“Not often. I’m always traveling, writing, and even lecturing some times. If I’m not doing it, I'm preparing. I guess that’s why I’m always looking for that perfect place. I’m kind of nervous now about visiting Cigna 3, and maybe even moving there. How would I be accepted?”

“That’s what I mean by problems everywhere. This sounds like a problem you are taking with you.” He walked into the front of the cabin and sat in the rocking chair. I sat on the very rustic couch again--nothing more than a wooden frame with cushions and pillows attached with leather chords. He looked at me noticing his couch and grinned. “That’s your bed tonight,” he said with a grin.

“As I was saying. I don’t want to seem like I’m lecturing you. I know I was your mentor at one time, but now we’re just friends, right?”

“That depends on what you're about to say.”

He laughed a bit. “I always liked the fact that you were honest. And that you liked me as a person. I’m glad we’re friends too. So as a friend I am saying that nothing has even happened yet and you are worrying about how they will react to you. You have no way of knowing that. Even if some react to you negatively, everyone won’t. You have no control over that, and maybe the ones who react to you negatively don’t deserve your concern.” He shrugged. I was silent.

“What race are you?” He asked.

“What do you mean race?”

“You’ve been away from Earth so long you don’t remember what race means?”

“Oh. That nonsense. They’d say I am black, I think.”

“Well there you have it. Discrimination on Earth in the past for your ancestors and discrimination from the throwbacks on Earth still around now has implanted that fear in you. Everywhere you go you have to be worried about other people’s prejudices. My advice to you is to tell them to suck it, my friend.”

I began to laugh. “I think that’s the best advice you ever gave me.” I drank some more coffee. “Do you have anything a little stronger?” He looked at me askance for a few moments as if measuring me.

“Sure. I have some tronberry wine. You like tronberry wine?”

“Love it! Actually, I’ve never tasted it.”

“Well you will. I’m going to go out back and get it. It’s frozen.”

“Why is it frozen?”

“Tastes best kept that way. It’s not like Earth wine, it’s something totally different. And then you can tell me about this Belinda. Tell me what she looks like. I’ve never seen a Cignan before.” He got up and went to a hook near the door removing the biggest coat I have ever seen. He put it on. “Be right back.” The door opened. The wind howled in, and then it was shut behind him. I marveled at Jim.

He was so accepting. I knew most of the people on Earth would look down on me if they knew I was dating a Cignan. Throughout history they had treated the Transgender Earthlings with disdain, as if they were something unnatural, when they were very natural. They pretended not to with the Cignans because almost all of the Cignans were transgender. I knew that if we ever went to Earth or dealt with humans she would be looked down upon until they found that she was a Cignan.

Would I have to have her wear a T-shirt saying I am a Cignan not to be harassed on my own planet, or by my own family. I hoped not. I hoped that the Cignans would make it easier for our transgender humans to fit into society more comfortably. Yet again, I thought it would be better for transgender people to exit to Cigna 3 or any more transgender accepting place. Why stay anywhere where you are not loved and wanted by the majority, and probably even in danger?

As a so-called black person I moved several times. My ancestors fled the most racist parts of the southern parts of the United States to be free and make a new start. They weren’t like Jim. They didn’t sit it out and accept that things couldn’t get better. I guess I followed their lead. Maybe it was genetic. We all made out. The ones who left and the ones who benefitted in some ways from their decisions to stay made out in the end. But...I was not one to grin and bare it. As a result of moving over and over again I lived on a planet that was a paradise, and raceless.

It was a beautiful planet in a peaceful, quiet part of the galaxy with most of the people farmers, herdsmen, and crafts people. Our lives were simple. It was very diverse when it came to what Earth people called races, which was some silly made up thing, sexes, genders, ethnicities, and various spiritual beliefs. Jim could have had that too. All he had to do was keep on going. Yet again, he was happy. He was settled in. He had a beautiful family, and he was a fountain of love that could make any place seem like a paradise. I envied him and that ability.

I heard the door knob turn and he rushed in and just about had to lean all his weight against the door to push it closed. He latched it to make sure the wind didn’t push through somehow. He held up a large metal box.

“Box wine?” I asked laughingly.

“Oh no.” He set it on the floor and took off his coat. He picked it up again. “This thing is freezing. I have to get it into the thawer.” He headed into the kitchen and I followed. He pulled out a drawer that was very large. It looked like a trash compactor. He sat the box in and closed it. He cranked the dial. I marveled.

“Never seen one of these, eh?” He grinned. “We have just enough technology here for what we need. That’s what I like about it. Technology is our friend and our servant instead of the other way around, and nature is our friend instead of an enemy to be conquered. There was a ding. He removed the box. It wasn’t hot. That was surprising. “The heating only happens inside, and it only heats to room temperature.”

He sat the box on the table and removed the top, pulling out a very large jug of a thick liquid that resembled sloe gin.

“Get ready for the taste of your life,” He said, as he filled two glasses. “And then we can have some meat.” He handed me a glass. “We are going to eat meat all weekend. Gracie never wants me to have meat. I love it. That is all we are going to have.”

“I’m for that,” I said. “We drink wine, we eat steak, we laugh, we argue, we fight, we watch crap on the vid screen, wherever that is...”

“Hidden in the wall,” He said.

“And it will be paradise.”

We clinked our glasses together.

“To Gracie, Byron, Belinda, and a weekend of paradise,” Jim said.

“And meat,” I added.

The End.