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Color of Prejudice By Scot Prologue Joe McGregor lived in the “Slums” of Trekean, New Jampspar during the late 19th century. The old house groaned and shook with every gust of South-western wind. The slated shudders on Joe’s bedroom window banged open and shut. The bottom corner of the right shudder had long since rotted away from the house causing the top to rapt the window violently. Joe’s family had move into the city apartments long ago. He just couldn’t live there. Literally, he couldn’t because the “Spurs” ran the city from its shadow. He knew that his parents couldn’t bear to know that he had joined “O’le Jasper’s Disciples.” So he didn’t tell them. Jasper had built most of the houses in the Slums, for that is what the rich called suburbs, way back 200 years ago. The town’s founder had migrated from the Ireland homeland, but his descendents built a bigger city north by about ten miles. Many people consider Joe to be a freak of nature. Some say his parents conceived under a dark moon other say his parents were sinning when he was conceived. They all agree he isn’t normal. You see Joe is an Albino Irishman. Joe, being harassed because of his genetic makeup, was prone to using violence to stop violent prejudice. This also led to him being unfairly accused of starting fights. Like for instance when Johthan Quincy nailed him over the head with a piece of a picket fence that bordered the cemetery. Johthan broke it off then called to Joe. “Hey, Ailbe! (Old Irish word for White) Think fast!” Seconds later the board collided with the right side of Joe’s face sending him into the picket fence on his left. Joe got up facing his tormentor and a dark expression of deep welling hatred and anger overcame his countenance. This scared Johthan but he said, “What? Are you going to fight a REAL Irishmen, Ailbe?” “Yeah and 10 to 11 says this Ailbe kills you outright!” replied Joe meaning every word of it. “Johthan held his piece of wood at the ready as Joe walked undaunted by being unarmed. This fact didn’t escape Johthan either. Some would say that Johthan literally held the advantage in his hands. Now what happened next is still disbelieved by some people. Joe the Ghost charged Johthan who raised his stick back to hit Joe, but instead found himself on the ground and his hand full of splinters as the piece of wood was ripped out of his grasp. The next moments would be the most painful that Johthan would endure until his mysterious torture and succeeding death years later. When the Priest over the cemetery tried to pull Joe away from Johthan he received a few wild whacks from Joe’s stick. After some adults were rounded up they were appalled by the ferociousness of Joe’s beating. John McGregor walked up and out of mid-swing wrested the stick from his son. Johthan was a mess, and his nose appeared broken in two places as well as his left hand. The blood made every thing look worse than it really was; other than a few cuts and bruises Johthan was fine. Joe made as if to continue the attack which caused Johthan to scuttle backwards. “Joe! That is enough!” Said his father,” What is this fight, if you could call it that, about?” “Father, it is a battle of wills and the winner would still be alive. He attacked me from behind with that der stick, leveling me into da fence. He says, “You going to fight a REAL Irishman Ailbe.” So I say, “10 to 11 says this Ailbe kills you outright.” I stood me ground and charged him, he raised that stick but I was faster than he and I tackled him to the ground wrested the stick from him and started to beat the dust out of him. Then somebody tried to lead me away and I hit them too. Then you came and took me beating stick away keeping me from my promise to kill him. That be the story and da truth sir.” narrated Joe. “Joe promising to kill is a serious offense afore God, because God said that it is left to him to kill and let live whom he will.” John turned to Johthan, “Well, Johthan this is looking to be a grievous account against you. So is that the way it happened?” Johthan saw a way out of punishment and it had worked before. “No it is the other way around he attacking poor me not me attacking him. Besides he has the stick not me.” Lied Johthan, who then glanced at the group of children for an instant, then the inevitable surge of support of Johthan’s story came. The other children always feared Johthan’s wrath that was inflicted behind the adults’ backs. “Johthan you are lying and you know it!” said a very beautiful young lass standing behind the children stepped forward. “I will no longer be bullied into keeping silent about what you are doing. You place every sinful act on Joe, just because you know he will be blamed even if he isn’t guilty. Mr. McGregor, sir, Joe was telling the truth Johthan is just trying to weasel out of punishment for fighting because he started it.” This lass’s name was Sarah McHousher. She was tall with long blonde reaching her mid-chest. Rather thin but not frail enough to be blow into the district and a heavenly face with intense blue eyes. She was reaching her maturity stage of woman hood, as most of the boys had noticed already. She alone stood up for Joe, and in all the years the adults didn’t remember her ever lying. Soon others seeing their bully physically thrashed stepped forward and spoke against Johthan’s false testimony. “You are all going to pay for this!” threatened Joe. Johthan was standing across from Sarah and the others. Joe was almost in the middle facing the adults. Sarah and the children huddled on his left and a glaring Johthan on his right. “You dare stand against me women, how dare you!” spat Johthan lunged at Sarah. Suddenly Joe powerfully extended his right arm and connected with left cheek bone causing him to spin in a circle. In one same motion Joe, fist clenched, back handed Johthan across the right cheek, which sent him to the ground. Joe stepped in front of Sarah and the children and faced Johthan. “Johthan it is over for now. But if I even hear of you harassing Sarah or any of the children again I will finish what you started today.” said Joe to a fallen Johthan. Needless to say Johthan never lived down being beaten by an Albino Irishman. Even thought he and Joe fought a couple times afterwards they became inseparable. Years later Joe took the death of Johthan really hard and the word on the street said that the Spurs had done it in an attempt to find Joe the Ghost. Jasper’s Disciples and the Spur’s are constantly at war over turf lines and the city of Trekean. Chapter 1 On a cold early morning mid-march Joe awakens to a faint creak in the hallway. Grabbing his butcher knife and hatchet off of his bed stand he stealthily crept to the corner behind the door. Just as he got behind the door it suddenly swung open and two men rushed in and fired their guns at his bed. Joe pushed the door shut plunging the room into darkness. The two would be assassins found that even in the dark the Ghost stood out. Both screams were cut short when the butcher knife and the hatchet bite deep into their skulls. Joe checked the hallway and the window. Opening the window he hurled the bodies out of it. They hit his porches over hang then onto the ground. “Joe you are surrounded! The Spurs have caught the Ghost. You know your friend Johthan, he is dead. Although he died too quick for my satisfaction it wasn’t any fun. You still alive aren’t you Joe.” said a voice no more than 18 or 19 years old. “Aye I still be a liven and what be your name you murdering fiend. I would like to be known who I have to kill next.” replied Joe advancing around the window to catch a glimpse of the speaker. “My name is Peter Roberts and it is the last name you will ever hear on this earth alive.” even as Peter was talking a jar of liquid and a torch flew into the room splattering every where. The torch hit it every thing bursted into a roaring fire. Joe rushed for the door grabbing his knife and hatchet off the table beside the bed. Placing them in his belt he headed for the bedroom door. Just as he got to the door it started swinging in. Joe lowered his solider and barreled the door shut and off its hinges driving the person behind to the ground. He jumped where he had guessed the head to be at and was reward with a crunch, but Joe did not see the man coming up the stairs when he swung over the railing and his feet connected with the man’s shoulders. Down the stairs on the man’s shoulders Joe maintained his balance to the bottom of the stairs and deftly broke the man’s neck Joe headed for the door out side. The smoke was becoming intense and black. As Joe was walking to the door, Peter stepped into the doorway blocking any one from entering or leaving the burning house. Joe using the smoke as a cover Joe ran into the kitchen grabbing the carving knife because it was longer than the butcher knife by about three inches but just as wide up to the tip. Creeping back to the front door Joe pulled his butcher pulled the butcher knife out and replaced it with the carving knife. Taking careful aim Joe hurled it at Peter. All peter knew was one moment he was boldly blocking the burning house’s only exit and then a flash of pain as a butcher knife was protruding from his thigh. He crumpled sobbing as blood gushed profusely around the knife. Joe cursed himself for missing but the smoke was getting to his eyes. He was coughing as he crawled over to trap door under the stairs. Joe had personally dug this tunnel all by himself five years ago when his family left for the city. Now he was glad that he had because it undoubtedly saved his. He slid the door open crawling down the stairs. Closing the door behind him Joe slide a bar locking the door from the inside so he could not be followed by any one. Chapter 2 Joe felt for the dirt walls, upon finding them he ran down the tunnel. He had built it al by hand, the excavating, supports all the way to the hut surrounded by chopped down and dead trees. Joe had grown at least 4 inches since he had built the tunnel. THUNK….

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