“I felt if black people could survive those horrible experiences, I could tolerate a bad taste in my mouth long enough to finish the book.”

“Are you prepared to do anything else besides throwing up?”

“I know I can’t undo what’s already been done, but now that I’ve begun to experience black pain I am ready to be the instrument for whatever is required by The Movement.”

“What about being white? How do you intend to deal with the resentment you’ll have to face because you’re white?”

“I’m willing to do whatever is necessary to change that. And if I can’t, I’ll just have to accept it.”

“I see,” Theo said, testing the strength of his patchy beard with a few strong tugs. “Keith, why don’t you question one of the brothers?”

Keith scanned the room and dropped his two blue dimes on me.

“Your name’s Melvin, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, what did you experience when you read the book?”

“How come you don’t question somebody white?” I asked.

“Because the only way to work out antagonisms between blacks and whites is to confront them. That won’t happen if I talk to whites. By challenging one another we get the disease out in the open. When that happens, we can sort it out and then go about finding a cure.” “And what’s the cure?”

“The cure is to use these sessions as outlets for fucked-up attitudes so our political action won’t be tainted by contradictions… Now, what did you think about the book?”

“I couldn’t finish it.”

“Why not?”

“It was too much to take all at one time.”

“Did you feel any outrage?”

“At first, but then I didn’t feel anything.”

“Do you think the reason might be that you don’t want to deal with history?”

“What’s there to deal with? It’s already happened!”

“But you’ve got to put it in its proper perspective.”

“And what is that?”

“Do you know why most people in The Movement don’t wear ties?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Wearing ties is a form of contemporary lynch law. In other words, it’s the rope revisited. They are part of the official uniform of oppression, lynching people to stifling jobs and choking their identity. Having this perspective forces us to commit a kind of suicide by murdering our capacity to cop out.”

“It also,” Theo interjected, “keeps a vigil over our consciousness by not allowing us to become what we despise.”

I was impressed. Theo and Keith seemed to have thought it all out, complete with contingency theses to tighten up any snags in their arguments. That night there was a party in the student lounge. I ran into Theo when I got off the subway, and we walked over to the school together.

“How are these parties?” I asked.

“They’re probably a little different from the sets you’re used to.”

“In what way?”