Even though Tayo’s stomach grumbled, he still couldn’t decide on what to pick: crusty mashed potatoes or slimy Sloppy Joes? He sighed, then admonished himself for pulling an all-nighter because that made him wake up late, which in turn made him forget to take his lunch because he had to rush to catch the bus.

He looked past the Sloppy Joe to the experimental chicken and overcooked vegetables. “Eenie Meenie Minie--”

“We don’t have all day, you know?”

He didn’t even have to turn around to know who it might be. The accent didn’t even have to be tell-tale, after all, the white kids never even bothered to acknowledge his existence. No, it had to be Tony or Kevone or Jason or some other random idiot at their school who thought they could give him hell.

“Leave him alone,” another voice warned. “I’m sure he’s not yet used to seeing so much food.”

Tayo still didn’t look back but at that moment, it sounded like the entire world was laughing at him.

“No… no, I don’t think he understand us. We have to speak his language,” a wannabe comedian said before making clicking sounds in an attempt to mimic the famed South African Bushmen.

Tayo did his best to stay calm. The first time he’d ever heard such comments, he was so baffled he didn’t even know what to think. But five months of hearing them hadn’t made things any easier. It was alright when he was hanging out with his friends at the table some of the school referred to as “The jungle” because it was where all the African kids hung out. He and his friends would sit and laugh as any of those idiots walked past them because after all, who did they think they were? If the stories were to be believed, most of them didn’t even know who their fathers were and those who did, visited them once a week at the nearby prison. How dare they try to compare themselves with children of doctors, lawyers, engineers and architects? They did badly in tests and were generally lowlifes so he and his friends just couldn’t understand how they had the gall to look down on them and call them names.

But at that moment, Tayo looked at his empty table and was proud that he was smart enough to realize that he couldn’t fight all of them on his own. He straightened his back, pointed at the mashed potatoes then watched the bored lunch lady heap his plate.

“Give us free,” a voice behind him shouted while another kept up the clicking sounds amidst laughter.

Tayo took another deep breath in and pointed at the chicken.

“For only 10 cents a day…” one started, pretending to be one of the ads on television.

Tayo picked up his tray and tried his best to shut out all the laughter.

“Remember not to touch anything,” a deep voice cautioned, “’cos who the hell knows where this African booty-scratcher’s been!”

Fed up, Tayo turned out and said, “That’s still better than being a stupid cotton-picker, you fucking slave!”

The entire room fell into stunned silence and before Tayo could turn back around, he felt a fist hit his jaw.

***

Tayo sat at the nurse’s office holding ice to his swollen jaw. Everything had happened so quickly that all he knew was that he’d somehow had back up. How else could his ribs have remained unbroken? After some teachers had rushed into the cafeteria and put an end to the free-for-all fight, the lunch lady had outed him and Rashad as the ringleaders of fight. He still didn’t understand how he could be anything other than a victim and intended to prove it to the principal the second the nurse finished with him.

“You’re lucky it’s not worse,” Nurse Barker said, walking out of her office with Rashad. “Come back tomorrow so I can take a look at the bandages, okay? And I hope that will be the last time I see you this month.”

Shaking her head she watched him leave before turning to Tayo. “I can see you now,” she said as she rolled her eyes.

At that moment, it finally hit him: slave or booty-scratcher, to Nurse Barker and probably the rest of the world, he and Rashad were exactly the same.