The Water Fountain 

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~Ruth Berhanu 

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Threats are being yelled down the road and garbage is being thrown. My toes stick out of my too-small sandals and my shoulders are tight around my too-small dress. Tom is in his ripped blue jeans next to me. 

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I notice a water fountain about two feet away. “Tom. I’m thirsty.” Tom looks ahead and says “Me too Annie, let’s stop.” We walk to the water fountain and wait patiently in line. Once it is my turn, I take a quick sip of water, since most black water fountains had limited supply. I quickly walk to the side and wait for Tom. But as soon as Tom leans in and opens his lips, the water fountain stops working. Tom stops and straightens up, anger flooding his face. On a hot day like this, the anger of not getting water is understandable. But I knew Tom wouldn’t do anything, right? He was my older brother, smart and tough; he'd never do anything impulsive. 

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Yet Tom walks over to the empty whites water fountain, and leans over and begins to take quick big gulps of water. He stops and looks up at me with a big grin on his face. “Annie, come try this! The water’s so clean and the supplies are unlimited!” He beckons me over with his hand, and I’m scared. The crowds on the streets are stopping and looking over at the black man screaming “Annie!” I freeze and look at all the horrified and angry faces. They're screaming, “Get out of here negro!” But Tom is still ignoring all the people trying to pull his arms off the fountain. He says my name once again as he pushes a white man off him. I finally start to walk over. 

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POW. A bullet hits the wall in front of Tom, just 3 inches away from the top of his head. I stop again and look over to the front of the crowd. “Get away!” It’s the police and they’re coming for my brother, and yet I’m as still as a statue. The crowd splits in half to let the police through. Once they're through, they get out their batons and start hitting my brother over and over again. Tom’s screaming in pain and thrashing. I yell “Stop! Stop!” many times, but no one listens. Finally Tom lies flat on the ground and begs for mercy from the police. 

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I know if this were different, an innocent 17 year old boy who was thirsty wouldn't have been hit. I know that no matter what happens, that we’ll always be treated unfairly, like we’re always doing the wrong things. And I hope for better in the future, but I know that the same situation will keep happening and there’s nothing I can do to stop it. So when my brother looks up into my eyes, I know I’ll need to get prepared for loss and get used to it. That it’ll be my future and I won’t have a choice.