Date: Tue, 28 Nov 2017 12:53:54 +0100
From: 8911384@gmx.de
Subject: Tom Has His Way, Part 01

To blame everything on his parents would be over-simplifying things. But if
you were to trace things back to the beginning, you would see that it began
with them.

Tom's parents believed in fairness and a sense of reality. They didn't
believe in giving their children an unrealistic view of the world. But they
would take care to point out that these two aspects could, at times, be at
odds with each other. Reality wouldn't always be fair, but Tom would have
to find a way of coming to terms with that.

Tom was like any other boy his age; he enjoyed the same games, had the same
likes and hates, sometimes got into fights and got on with some teachers
better than with others. He must have been around eight or ten years old
when there was a new boy at his school. Their class teacher asked the class
to do all they could to make William feel welcome. As this was said, Tom
turned around to look at the new boy and stared for a moment, mesmerised by
the boy's Nordic looks.

Tom had already started looking at girls, being an early developer with a
clear attraction to the opposite sex. One of the things that fascinated him
about girls was the contrast between boys and girls; between men and
women. He saw the boys in the years above him starting to get hair on their
arms and legs while their voices broke and their muscles developed. He saw
the girls going through other developments, including the ones that
required extra instruction in girls-only classes. Tom always assumed that
it was these differences that created the fascination between the two
sexes, leading to the attraction that formed bonds that were strong enough
to create new people, just as his parents had created him. He watched his
own fascination with the female body as though he were an onlooker and put
together simple, childlike rules in his mind: the contrast of day and night
were what caused them to chase each other, creating the ongoing cycle that
we called time. The same was true of the four seasons, of school lessons
and playtime, of school-time and hometime, of being awake or asleep.

As Tom stared at William, he saw the same contrast. Tom was a handsome boy,
as was William. But William had very blond hair and very blue eyes while
Tom was black. The thought went through Tom's mind that William was day and
Tom was night, and that one couldn't exist without the other. He remembered
the difference between the sexes and frowned; William was very clearly a
boy, a very boyish boy and a boy who the girls would be sure to chase, just
as they chased Tom. But for Tom there was something that linked all of the
examples in his mind of the two camps that faced each other. Tom and
William were like day and night, but they also had a way of being like boy
and girl, even though they were both boys. Tom wasn't attracted to William
the way he found himself sexually attracted towards some of the girls, but
he felt drawn towards how different he was. William made Tom feel very
black. If they held hands and entwined their fingers, you could tell at a
glance which fingers belonged to which boy. Tom wanted to try that out,
just as he liked trying out new things with his toys at home.

When the first period was over, the class went out into the playground. Tom
looked for William. He had decided to make friends with him before anyone
else could. He wanted him to himself and would then decide if he wanted to
share him with the other boys.

He saw William standing at the edge of the playground, watching the other
boys play. Some girls were nearby, looking towards William and
giggling. Tom strode up to William.

"I've got a ball. Want to play?"

William looked at him warily and took a step back.

"No."

"Why?"

"You're black."

Tom's parents had warned him about this, but it was the first time it
actually happened to him. They had also told him that it was okay to fight
it as long as he didn't resort to violence. But William's answer, along
with his physical reaction, shocked, angered and hurt Tom on a number of
levels. Tom knew that he somehow wanted William, maybe even wanted him to
himself. He had already started putting together their friendship in his
mind. They would be blood brothers, they would share secrets, share their
toys, share everything. Tom would defend William; protect him from anything
that could happen to him. They would have sleepovers, and Tom would ask his
parents if William could go on holiday with them.

In a matter of seconds, William demolished Tom's new world. Tom wanted to
cry and probably would have done just that up until that day. But the
instinct that made him want to protect William also caused him to hide the
fact that he was hurt. Instead, he drew his hand back and hit William
across the face, knocking him to the ground. William started to cry, and
this was when Tom started to cry. It was the first time that he hurt
someone else and hurt himself in the process.

Everyone saw Tom hit William and knock him to the ground. No one heard what
William had said to Tom. Both boys were cited to the Head Teacher's
office. When asked to explain his behaviour, Tom told the Head Teacher that
William refused to play with him because he was black. William denied this,
and Tom sprang up out of his seat, ready to hit William again. The Head
Teacher shouted for Tom to sit down, but he sensed in both boys' reactions
that it was William who wasn't telling the truth. There just wasn't much he
could do without witnesses.

"William, you will never, EVER say that kind of thing... ever again."

"I didn't!" William protested.

"Enough, William! Just remember – NEVER." He then turned his attention
to Tom. "And you, young man, will learn to handle your conflicts with words
and not by hitting people, whatever they say to you. Look at William. You
can still see the redness on the side of his face where you slapped him."

Tom turned to look at William and found himself fascinated for the second
time by the slap mark he had put on William's face. When William had fallen
to the ground in the playground, Tom had started to cry but stopped
suddenly when he saw the red mark. He had started crying because it hurt
him to hurt William, but the fact that he could put a red mark on the boy's
white face and that William couldn't do the same to him was quite
arresting. It was the contrast again; more of the night-and-day thing: Tom
knew that people could slap his face a hundred times without leaving any
marks. William was a white boy, and you only needed to hit him once to
create a mark... to leave your mark. Tom had left his mark on William, and
there was nothing William could do about that. It reminded him of how men
made babies grow in women while they couldn't grow in men.

Tom and William were made to apologise to each other in the Head Teacher's
office and to shake hands, but only because they had to. Tom's parents were
called into school to be told what had happened. When they all arrived
home, there were strong words from Tom's parents. Tom explained what had
happened and what William had said. His parents looked at each other and
swallowed before repeating what the Head Teacher had said and what they had
told him: no violence.

"Listen, son..." his dad began, "...this will happen. There are ways to
fight it and make it better, but that won't always work. Some people think
the world is flat, and nothing will make them see the truth. But be sure of
one thing: if you get violent, the problem will only get worse. Much
worse. Not just for you, but also for other black people. Your mother and I
didn't get where we are today with good jobs and a comfortable house by
hitting people. We got here by not hitting people."

This made sense to Tom. He remembered the thoughts he had had whilst
staring at William in the classroom, about the world he had put together
before William ended it for him. There was no one to hit now, only the best
people he had in his world. He started to cry.

"But I wanted to be his best friend," he sobbed. "And I wanted him to be
mine."

This put his parents to the test; they fought back their tears as they took
their son in their arms, telling him that there would be plenty of other
best friends. His dad then lifted him up and put him on his lap.

"If a boy chooses his friends because they have the right or the wrong skin
colour... is that who you would want to be best friends with?"

Tom remembered his fascination with the boy's looks; with the colour of his
skin, eyes, hair; with the fact that he could leave a mark on William's boy
by hitting him and that William couldn't do that to him.

"I know. But it wasn't just his skin colour. It was his hair and eyes."

This took his parents aback and they both frowned at each other. They
hadn't been sure how Tom would answer, but they certainly weren't expecting
this. His mother leaned in towards her son as he sat sobbing on her
husband's lap:

"That's why you wanted to be friends with him?"

This was when Tom realised that they had been talking about William, not
him.

"No. Well... yes, but no." Tom hurried to find an answer that was close
enough to the truth. "He was new. I could only see colours, nothing
else. He was different. But I can only see what he's like if we're
friends. So I wanted to be best friends and see what all of him is like. He
was new. I didn't know what he was like. And I wanted to know."

This answer satisfied his parents.

"Alright," his mother said gently. "William has no idea what he is missing
out on. But I don't think you're missing much."

"But I wanted to have him!"

"Listen," his dad said, turning the boy on his lap to look at him. This is
when the sentence fell, the sentence with which it all began, the sentence
that would change not only Tom's life but the lives of countless white men:
"Tom, you will have to learn something every important in life and
something that you will have to remember as long as you live. You cannot
have what you want, when you want, how you want. And you can't always have
who you want, either."

The issue ended there, at least for Tom's parents. But as Tom sat at the
dining-room table doing his homework, he remembered the superheroes in the
comics he read and the countless stories about people making their dreams
come true. Some of them were stories about real people. He remembered
stories about witches and wizards, about magic wands, about strong people,
about people who could change what other people think. He remembered
something his parents had said to him a few times that went something like
`Where Will is, there's a way'. He knew that this was about making your
dreams come true and that it wasn't about William. But as he sat there,
looking at his multiplication tables, he thought to himself: Why can't I
have what I want when I want? And why can't I have who I want when I want?
Maybe I just need to make it happen.

And thus began quest for Tom. It wasn't what his parents had intended, but
Tom's main hobby from that point on was a secret one. It became a science
that never left him. He would look for ways, ways for him to have his
way. Sometimes he would make other people think that it was what they
wanted, sometimes he would take pleasure in making the people watch as he
forced them to act against their own wishes.

William stayed in Tom's class. As both boys grew, William remained the
focus of Tom's attention, unbeknown to William. Tom called him Will in his
head, and despite learning the correct form of the phrase `Where there's a
will, there's a way', Tom preferred to stick to his own version: `Where
there's Will, there's a way' or even: `Where there's Will, I'll have my
way'.

Tom was a strong boy. He came from a good home, so he got good to excellent
marks in all subjects but also excelled in sports. As he entered puberty,
he had considered showing a disinterest in physical education in order to
counter stereotypes about black boys. He would do all he could to make sure
he was never treated unfairly because of being black. But his ongoing plan
to `show Will his will' led him to aim to be the best, which he soon
was. Before long, Will was looking up to him, envious of Tom's athletic
achievements and his early development. Will knew that there was no sport
he could beat Tom at and avoided any direct competition in order to save
face. Will knew that he attracted the girls, but only as long as Tom was
out of sight. He knew that he was good at sports, but only until compared
to Tom. Will soon forgot his initial thoughts on black and white. He saw
Tom as someone the girls chased, someone who was clever, top in most
subjects and even funny. When he saw Tom naked in the changing rooms, he
felt intimidated by the black boy's manhood and looked away. He didn't
notice that Tom was doing all he could to make sure that Will saw how
well-endowed he was. It also seemed to Will that Tom was nice; that he was
funny, popular, sometimes even a ringleader. But he always seemed to ignore
Will. With no memory of the playground incident on his first day, Will soon
realised that he would have chosen Tom as his best friend if he had been
given the choice, but he was sure that Tom didn't know he existed. He
couldn't have been further from the truth.

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This is my first attempt at submitting a story to Nifty. I am very, very
keen to receive any feedback (positive, negative, etc.) concerning the
story. Please contact me at the email address at the top of this page.