“I’m losing him, Mom! I’m losing him!” Tracy wails into her handset.

“Relax, Baby, relax. Who are you talking about?’

“Dave, Mom. My lover.”

“Okay, what’s happening between you two?”

“He doesn’t love me, Mom. I think he has another woman somewhere and probably thinks I aint good enough for him.”

“Hey, cool it, Baby! Don’t jump to conclusion, my little girl.”

“Mom, he doesn’t even try to make out with me. We’ve been going out for God knows how long and he doesn’t even attempt, I mean, ATTEMPT, to make out with me. What kind of normal American male does that, Mom? It’s either he’s got another lover somewhere or I’ve lost my sex appeal, Mom!”

“Stop that rubbish, Baby. Has it ever entered into that pretty head of yours that he may be a Christian?”

“So? Aint I?”

“I mean the born-again Christian male, Baby. Their doctrine forbids them from indulging in sex before marriage.”

“I don’t believe it. I think he’s got a thing or two going with one of his undergrad females. I saw some of them in his office the other day. They were practically drooling in the mouth over him while casting nasty glances at me as if I were an intruder. And, Mom!”

“Yes, Baby?”

The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

“Some of those ladies are simply smashing!”

“So are you, Baby. There’s no man under the stars that can resist your charm, my little girl.”

“Moooomy! You can flatter!” laughs Tracy in spite of the seriousness of the situation.

“Cross my heart, Baby. I speak nothing but the truth. And if you doubt me, ask your dad!”

“Dad, indeed!”

Both break into uncontrollable laughter which further reduces the tension in Tracy. Afterwards, Tracy’s mom advises her to be patient and not rush things. She believes that things will sort themselves out later if they are supposed to be together. Tracy thanks her and is about to hang up when her mom throws a parting shot.

“By the way, what happens to the famous Captain Ice Block?”

“Dead, Mom. Awaiting burial!”

Mother and daughter burst into another gale of laughter before hanging up.

“That was Tracy, right?” asks General Winters, sipping wine from a glass cup. Husband and wife are relaxing in their plush living room in suburbia New York.

“Yes, my dear. She is worried about her relationship with her African American lover.”

“Any problem?”

“None…except that I don’t know if you’re ready to embrace African American grandchildren. You know I don’t care any which way the pendulum swings.”

“I should be the last person to harbour such demeaning sentiments, dear. I’m alive today because my African American friend and colleague took the bullet that had my name on it some thirty years ago.”

“Really? You never told me, dear,” says his wife going to sit beside him.

“We were in combat in Vietnam at the time. We were on our way back from a mission, back to Command Saigon. We ran into an ambush mounted by sharpshooting Vietcong rebels and had to shoot our way past them. I didn’t know that a sniper had me in his gun sight. A sudden flash in the sunlight alerted Pete and he jumped up and pushed me down. Unfortunately, the bullet meant for me hit him instead. He died instantly. He was black.”

A long silence greets his declaration.

“May his soul rest in perfect peace,” says the wife quietly.

“Amen,” responds the general. “From that day I became colour blind as far as human beings are concerned.”

The wife says nothing else but holds his hands. She could hear the quavering in his voice as he recalls the incident. Thirty years and the memory still hurts!