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Chapter Forty-Four
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The friends' van pulled around the corner, and they piled out. "I wonder what this could be about," Désirée murmured.
Jaben put his arm over Ellamae's shoulder, and said, "Ellamae, there's this one joke I've got to tell you. You'll laugh so hard, your breasts will fall off."
Then he glanced down at her chest for a moment, and said, "Oh, wait. You've already heard it."
Ellamae did not immediately react, then her mouth opened with a most delicious expression of "I can't believe I just heard what I thought I heard," and started laughing, and hit him in the arm. "Naughty, naughty," she said.
Thad said, "Ok. You are in a field. There is a clown suit, a crowbar, and a laptop here. Above are ominous clouds."
"I go west," Amos said.
"I do not recognize the verb 'I'."
"Take clown suit."
"Taken."
"Wear clown suit."
"The clown suit is about three sizes too small for you, and its colors clash with each other and your skin. Definitely you. You see--"
"Hullo, what's this?" said Ellamae.
Another van came up. It had no license plates.
Four men in white sheets stepped out. Two of them were carrying shotguns, and one of them was holding a box, about a fifteen by fifteen by six inches. The last one stepped out, and said, "Which of you is Jaben?"
Jaben stepped forward and said, "Me."
"Jaben," the Klansman said with a sneer. "Don't you think that when we get rid of one of them, it is with good reason?"
"We have rescued our friend," Jaben said calmly. "Is that not good reason?"
"No. You are ashamed of being white, and you are a disgrace to our race."
"I am very proud of being white," Jaben said. "I am proud of all the paintings and philosophy and poetry my race has produced. And I believe that loving others of your race comes before loving people not of your race."
"You do?" the Klansman asked with some surprise.
"Most definitely. But I don't think race defines the end of love. I believe in loving myself, my kin, my race, all of humanity, in an ever expanding circle of love. Your love of your kindred helps you love whites who are not your relations; my love of whites helps me love men who are not white. I am the richer for the friendships I have had with people who are not white, most of all Amos and Désirée. You would be the richer if you could expand your circle of love as well."
The Klansman snorted. "I did not come here to discuss philosophy with you. I came to challenge you to a duel." He opened the box to reveal two silver handguns. "Each of these is a .45."
"I don't believe in fighting. You can as much win a duel as win an earthquake."
Another Klansman fired a warning shot into the air. The echo resounded. "You will enter this duel, or we will mow down you and your friends, starting with the two of them."
Jaben closed his eyes, and prayed silently. His friends -- not touching him, not moving -- prayed with him. Then he opened his eyes, and said, "Ok."
Ellamae looked at him in absolute shock.
Jaben said -- loud enough for the Kythers to hear -- "Trust me," and walked over, and whispered something in Ellamae's ear.
Ellamae gulped.
Jaben walked over to the Klansmen, took one of the pistols. He stepped to the side, pointed the gun up, and turned his back.
The Klansman took the other pistol, and stood back to back with Jaben.
"One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten."
Jaben turned, fired a shot into the air, and dropped his gun to the ground. "My brother!" he cried, facing his adversary.
The Klansman turned, took aim, and shot him through the heart.
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Chapter Forty-Four
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