She lay there on the towel, the sun shinning warmly on her pale white skin and the sound of the gardeners lawnmower droning like a diligent bee. It was a beautiful afternoon, and her aunt had gone to attend her church group. From behind her sunglasses she noticed Sammy the gardener pushing the old noisy contraption with care, he had been mowing for some time now, but the grass looked done in her opinion.
She stretched out, arching her back and putting her hands behind her head, and set her legs apart to rest on their feet, toes digging into the cool grass. School had been a nightmare, and she had been glad when the week finally ended, but tomorrow it would all begin again. Since her fathers incarceration (coming some months after her mothers death) she had been living in the suburbs at her aunts house, where she would have to stay for at least a couple of years, till she was both old enough and could afford to move out, get a job.
She sighed.
Her eyes dropped from the clouds again and she noticed Sammy's head turn away, as if he had been looking at her. She felt uncomfortable for a moment, her tight fitting grey hot-pants and black tee-shirt tied in a knot above her belly-button was "shocking" according to her aunt. Being a country girl (raised by her less then politically correct family) she had rarely seen a black man close up before- and still wasn't sure whether she felt personally threatened by their proximity, some part of her mind kept expecting them to jump her or turn violent. Allot of that probably had to do with her fathers politics though, the kind of man who liked to fill sentences with words like "purity" and "race" and "Aryan" in them.
When she had realised her aunt had a black man for a gardener she had been a little afraid and defensive. Sammy was nice though, although he didn't look too bright (he was no Denzil Washington anyway, she thought) his squat rounded frame and puffy coffee coloured skin lent itself more to affection then intimidation. The hard oily-skinned masculinity of the dangerous, cunning, powerful black men her father had insisted would rape her at the drop of a hat was not the kind that Sammy was, she found herself hiding her tattoo from him. Generally unsure about her wife-killing father’s worldview since puberty, she had decided to let go of his racist beliefs.
In fact Sammy reminded her of a cuddly-toy she once owned. It had been a big dark brown bear, and thinking about it bought a brief hot rush to her face and a moistening between her legs. She remembered what she used to do to that bear, in the earlier years of puberty, those first tentative explorations of her own sexuality.
She began to wonder what Sammy would be like in place of that bear before she could stop herself. It felt delicious to imagine Sammys big soft face against her thy, those big rubbery lips against her-
"Scuze Ma'am"
It was Sammy; he was looking down at her, standing in his overalls, hands in his pockets. She suddenly felt vulnerable, alone in the house with him, the erotic thought of him before disappeared.
"What is it?" she snapped
"I's not good for white wu-man like you to lie in sun like this" said Sammy, his thick New Guinea ascent legible to her exactly two seconds after he said anything.
"Yes you're right, I'm not burning yet though,” she said.
"Madam, your skin is very white, it is very pretty, I don't want you to burn... and become red, ahn-ti will be very cross if that happens, allow me to bring you sun-cream at least"
'Ahn-ti' was Sammy's way of saying 'aunty', and she smirked for a moment, flattered by his concern for her "pretty white skin".
"Sure Sammy" she said gently, regretting snapping at him earlier "Go get me sun-cream".
He smiled broadly, showing rows of white teeth before turning to enter the house. Sammy was entrusted by her aunt as an odd-job man and cleaner, had done so ever since she'd returned from running a business in New Guinea, where she had first hired him as a ‘houseboy’ runs.
He returned moments later with a bottle, kneeling beside her he began to pour out its contents into one hand. She closed her mouth-, which had dropped open in growing shock
"Sammy, what are you doing- you think I'm going to let you use it on me?"
"Bot of course" replied Sammy matter-of-factly, as he slapped a palmful of the lotion on her thy, and began rubbing vigorously. For a moment he carried on- she wondered what he'd do if she tried to make him stop. For some reason she felt frozen, as his big black hands pressed the cream into her skin. He had slowed down allot once he realised she was not pushing him away, and was rubbing it in slowly now. She was certain he was savouring the touch of her white skin, his face had a childish wondrous expression on it-
"Madam's skin is very beautiful" he licked his lips "I like white wu-man's skin very much you see madam-" his hand moved slowly to her groin
She got up, swept up her towel and stormed into the house. Everything her father said about niggermen was true! She had seen the hunger in his eyes; he wanted her- he'd savoured touching her
"Madam, please- your ahn-ti lets me do it all the time-"
She ran up the stairs to her room and slammed the door.
Oh my god what if he tries to rape me, she thought suddenly. His feet were pounding up the stairs after her- and then the sounds of thumps against her door
