They Say We Are Dangerous by Tafari Lumumba

I always liked Tahir, but everybody says he has a weird name. We kiss behind of bushes in Mrs. Bush's yard. Nobody sees us. They say Tahir has to be from Africa, so he has to be an African Booty Scratcher, and what would I look like walking around the block, holdin' hands, kissin', and being the girlfriend of an African Booty Scratcher in public?
    In public. Impossible. So me and my girls are on the south side of the block and Tahir and his people are on the north. Everybody is hoopin' and hollerin' like they got no damn sense and my girls is talkin' bout how ugly he is, and how he stutters when he talks, and how he got a gap in his teeth so damn big you can drive a cab through it. And I'm playin' right along cuz I like Tahir, but I like my friends more. So Tahir starts walkin' my way and my girls is already yellin' and throwin' rocks at em, but he keeps comin'. I couldn't do that if somebody had a gun to my back.
    Anyway, so he arrives and starts talkin' bout how he wants my number, and that I'm pretty, and something bout how the long lost shores of Atlantis could never compare to my insurmountable beauty, and he how wants to be my boyfriend. So I don't say nothing, and my girls start cussin' and yellin' at em about how ugly he is, and then he starts stutterin' and what not so my girls think he lyin'.
    Eventually he finishes what he was to say and takes off down the sidewalk. I don't say nothing. My girls tell me I got to give him an answer cuz they don't want his monkey ass to come back anytime soon, so I start walking but my girls stop me and say I can't be seen with him no more cuz walkin' with an African booty Scratcher is just plain ole embarrassing. So they tell me to yell. I don't want to. They say, yell or take my monkey ass down with his monkey ass and we can be African Booty Scratchers together.
    So, I do it. I yell. I scream. No. No. I don't wanna give a long explanation to him cuz that would be wrong and I would get accused of speaking to an African Booty Scratcher in public. That would be bad for me.
    He runs. I do not expect it. His friends run too. My girls laugh, my ears hurt, and I look at the bushes in Mrs. Bush's lawn. They are dying. The grass under my feet is yellow. The ice cream man passes but turns off his music. He doesn't stop here anymore. They say we are dangerous.

About the author:
I received a degree in English: Creative Writing from Colorado College. In 2005, I won a Thomas J. Watson Fellowship to study storytelling in Guatemala, Honduras, and Brazil. In July of 2006, my screenplay was named a finalist in the 3rd annual BET Rap-it-Up/Black AIDS Short Film Subject Competition. I am currently living in Colorado Springs and finishing a non-fiction novel detailing my travels as an African-American man in Latin America.