A Week Later (Armstrong’s Estate)

Tyrone laid languidly on his bed in a far-off section of the estate’s land.

The estate consisted of a huge field for croquet, golf, and horseback riding, along with five separate buildings – three for the main house, one for extracurricular activities, and two for the ‘help’/live-in maids/butlers.

Tyrone was located in the most far-off… most dilapidated building on the ten-hectare estate.

Even his bed was a bit on the solid side of the spectrum but sleeping in prison made everything feel much more comfortable in comparison.

Still, the floor was much preferred to a semi-hard bed since Tyrone didn’t like to linger between states.

He laid back and lazily gazed out the window that showed the main building and felt a bit jealous of Betty’s success… or the success of anyone who didn’t struggle as much as himself.

After all, he was still a kid that felt bitter about the hand he was dealt.

A week ago, Betty came to offer a job, and Tyrone, though reluctant, accepted whatever could put a roof over his head and food in his stomach.

Admittedly, he didn’t have much of a choice given she did bail him from prison but a choice was a choice nonetheless.

Tyrone had to admit that wasting away in some backway alley had crossed his mind but he would despise himself for wasting the life that Jessica and Xandra would have loved to live.

Still, he now found himself regretful of taking Betty’s offer because intense manual labor was not exactly the profession he expected she would give him.

It gave him a new appreciation for the struggles faced by his father’s, Otis’, generation.

Actually, it was not exactly Betty’s fault since she brought him into her estate with the hopes of making him a butler, but her husband wanted a eunuch instead, so Tyrone chose the best of both worlds – far away from the main building but still with a roof over his head.

A week passed easily and Tyrone had grown familiar with the daily tasks of cleaning dog feces from the lawn, cutting the trees into unique shapes, cleaning the kitchen while stealing some food, and complaining to Betty whenever her husband wanted to give him excessive work.

Tyrone didn’t like Betty’s husband but Anthony, Betty’s Husband, also hated him just as much.

Betty just kept sending Tyrone books to read in preparation for their side business – convincing her husband’s partners that Colored Individuals deserved jobs outside kitchens.

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“Any updates today?” Betty asked, sipping tea and occasionally taking a swig from the cigar between her fingers.

Tyrone was sure that if he gave his best behavior for at least a year, Betty would smoke herself to death and leave him the estate without much effort.

He shrugged, walked over, and grabbed the cigar from between Betty’s fingers, crushing it beneath his feet “That thing will kill you, gives you cancer… and when you die, I won’t have a place to work so you need to stop…”

Betty chuckled, already used to Tyrone’s audacious attitude “Always about self-interest… why don’t you just say you care about my health? I might even introduce you to my daughter if you admit it…”

Tyrone frowned and his mood turned solemn “You don’t want me to care about you… the last people I cared about… I lost them…” he whispered as his mind recalled Jessica, Xandra, and the rest of his family.

“You never talk about it so I never ask…” Betty replied, becoming equally serious and asking again “Any updates today?”

“The other ‘help’ are talking about how your husband is preparing to make his case at a secret senate/defense committee meeting so he could push forward the idea to end the war without ‘help’ intervention…”

Betty rolled her eyes in exasperation “Why do you always call yourself ‘help’ and not ‘Colored’?... Colored is the respectful thing to say and you need to use it so I can convince my husband that your people are useful outside the kitchen…”

Tyrone sighed in frustration since he had been verbally attacked more times than he could count over the past week for referring to Black people as ‘black’.

Many of the other maids and butlers in the estate hated his guts because he refused to call anyone ‘Colored’.

After all, in their eyes, if Tyrone couldn’t respect his own people, they didn’t want him anywhere near the only white boss that ever treated them fairly (Betty).

‘Apparently, it is preferred to say Colored and not Black in the 1940s…’ Tyrone complained internally.

Seeing that Tyrone was distracted in his thoughts, Betty slapped the table to regain his attention “Already figured what you’re gonna say?”

“You want me to be your poster boy but I really don’t want to do that shit…”

Betty sighed “I need you to show the defense committee that Colored People can contribute more to society… I am fighting so you can get on any busses, sit in any restaurant, and fall in love without someone judging love by skin complexion!”

Tyrone frowned a bit since he sensed a subtle indication of fear when Betty mentioned falling in love “You’re a Black Activist because you loved a Black Man in the past?”

Betty shook her head and then gazed at the floor in shame “What do you know about my daughter?”

“She is a singer or pop star or something right? She is overseas… Maria right?” Tyrone asked, taking the seat next to Betty for the serious conversation he knew was upcoming.

Betty took a deep breath and turned to look Tyrone in the eyes “In high school, she dated a black kid… her father and I got so upset that we didn’t even listen to her… we were so ashamed that our daughter would do that and jeopardize her future…

Even worse was the fact that Anthony lost his committee promotion because all the other partners thought that our family was disgusting… we got so mad and we told her to stop but the more we told her to stop, the more she would see the boy…”

“I don’t know what you expected a kid to do when her parents told her to stop…” Tyrone mocked, rolling his eyes.

“Quiet!” Betty complained and continued “Eventually, we had enough and Anthony had the kid arrested… we never really got to know how the world worked for black kids at that time since we ever had to worry about black people aside from how clean they keep the estate and how good they make the food in the kitchen…

Our daughter begged us to free the kid since it turned out they were just best friends and never dated… but we meant to punish her so we wanted the kid to spend a few days in prison to teach her a lesson…

We didn’t know that when the officers found out that the black kid dated a rich white girl, they would send him to a white prison where he was beaten to death by the inmates just a couple of hours later…

When Maria promised never to see him again, we sent a request for him to be released but he was dead… Not long after she found out, Maria left home to pursue her singing career – turns out the kid was teaching her how to play folk song tunes on her piano…”

Tyrone felt a rush of anger ripple throughout his body when he heard the story but looking at the deep sorrow and guilt in Betty’s eyes, guaranteed him that she was already torturing herself more than he ever could.

“I know…” Betty whispered, tears leaking down her cheeks “I am disgusted with myself too… actually, when Maria said she would leave, I didn’t even try to stop her… I didn’t want my dirt to rub off on her… Anthony wasn’t the same after that either… he retreated and started living at work…

He started doing whatever he could to hinder colored people in politics and the army, but he doesn’t do it from hatred, he does it because he doesn’t want to be reminded of his guilt of hurting another human being…”

“And I am here to remind him about that?” Tyrone asked disapprovingly “You never wanted me to work for you because you’re a Black Activist… you want me to force your husband to acknowledge me… you want to save your marriage and get your family back…”

Betty shook her head, wiping her tears and staring Tyrone in the eyes once more “I want my husband to acknowledge his crime so we can be happy but I also know that once he acknowledges what we did, he will use the rest of his time on this earth to make sure that another black man doesn’t die unjustly…”

Tyrone studied Betty from head to toe in a new light and came to a conclusion “But unlike your husband, you don’t seem to have much guilt… so you either don’t care or you have already made amends?”

“Just look around…” Betty stated sadly, extending her hands outwards as if pointing everywhere in the estate “Every single member of the staff is that kid’s cousin, mother, brothers, sisters, friends… even his far-off bastard siblings he didn’t know he had… It’s not about amends for me anymore, it’s about making sure that my stupidity isn’t reflected in anyone ever again…

These people started working for me nearly a decade ago and things have gotten better since then but not nearly enough that they would be fine on their own… so I am fighting for jobs outside wealthy houses where they don’t have to depend on the kindness of a few ‘whites’ to survive…”

“I see it’s personal for you…” Tyrone murmured and Betty nodded in self-blame “Just one question…” he said.

“Shoot…”

“Did you ever tell them that you’re the reason their kid got killed?”

“No…” Betty whispered in guilt.

Tyrone nodded in relief “Never tell them that… just keep doing what you’re doing and you’ll be fine…”

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Two Days Later (Defence Committee Meeting)

Betty snuck into her husband's files at the estate and easily found the time and location of his next meeting with the defense committee.

It was no secret that the ongoing war was about to include America and that was the perfect opportunity for Betty to use her husband’s influence to garner more benefits for African Americans.

Finished gathering all the required intel, Betty snuck out of the room and walked unhurriedly directly across the field to Tyrone’s building.

Anthony had placed him as far away as possible, across the field so the only way for her to reach him gave Anthony ample time to stare at her through the estate windows.

Of course, Anthony never truly believed his wife would cheat on him but it was better to be cautious than caught with his pants down… or rather, with his wife's pants down.

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Knock

Knock

Knock

Tyrone groggily awakened from his slumber and quickly pulled on his butler suit from the bedside table.

This was his ‘cheating time’, meaning a time when there was nobody watching him so he would quit working for the day and go to sleep, waking up later to pretend that he had been working the entire time.

His ‘cheat time’ was only selected after careful considerations and investigations so he could guess that Betty was at the door since she was the only person who would notice his absence.

Plagued with impatience, Betty kicked open the door to see Tyrone dressed in a pair of high-knee white socks and straps that should have connected to his pants, if he had not slept absolutely naked.

Betty’s face scrounged up, grew surprised, phased into admiration, and then seemed genuinely shocked over the next thirty seconds “Have you ever thought that too big is just as bad as too small?”

Tyrone frowned, looked down at his semi-naked body, and gave an honest answer “None of my girls had a problem with it before… are you sure that you’re not just scared?”

‘Are they even still alive?’ Betty thought, but shook her head and opted to focus on something other than the thing dangling near Tyrone’s knees “Get your shit together, in a couple of hours, the meeting is on and I am taking you as my plus one at the last minute to make a statement… I have some sway in committee politics but not at the level of my husband, so bringing you with me should make a good enough statement…”

Tyrone seemed reluctant but he couldn’t just turn his back on a cause that would contribute to the equal treatment of Blacks within America during this era “What should I wear?”

“I suggest you put on some pants and ask me that question again… I just can’t take you seriously with that thing dangling between your legs.!”

Tyrone nodded and quickly pulled on his black, disco pants but Betty didn’t take her eyes off his precious jewels even after his pants were on.

It reminded Tyrone a bit of Malisha Gao.

‘I wonder what that crazy Asian is doing now that I am gone…’ he mused jokingly.

Cough

Cough

“Okaaaaayyyyy!” Betty commented in a hurry, her eyes dancing around the room attempting to look innocent “Let’s get to work, my favorite butler Ty…”

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Kamar-Taj, Kathmandu, Nepal (Quarters of The Ancient One)

Two disciples ran into the meditation room hurriedly as The Ancient One floated in the air, sipping tea from a cup that had remained in pristine condition over the hundreds of years since she ascended to the seat of Sorcerer Supreme.

Realizing their folly when The Ancient One paid them no mind, the two disciples both took a knee in apology “We apologize Sorcerer Supreme but we encountered an unusual occurrence within the barrier of the New York Sanctum…”

“Oh?” The Ancient One murmured, intrigued for the first time in a couple dozen years “What is it? I didn’t foresee any real issues at least for another 70 years… perhaps some dissonance from the unstable Dimension Ecch?”

One Disciple stood to her feet holding the magical grimoire used to monitor the New York Barrier for intrusion “I performed an Eldritch Incantation to trace back the intrusion to its source Dimension but we cannot find its connection to any known Dimensions…”

The Ancient One frowned as she retrieved the grimoire and closed her eyes to sense the energy that had pierced the Barrier of the New York Sanctum.

“This is very old…” The Ancient One said confused and slightly amused “Over the past hundred years, I have been able to identify all energy signatures using my magic senses alone but this requires my first serious incantation in a hundred years…”

“But we tri-”

The Ancient One shook her head, already aware of her Disciple’s pride and decided to use this as a teaching moment “You used Eldritch Magic to trace the origin of the intrusion but Asgardian Magic is much more useful due to its half-science, half-magical nature… it allows you to skirt around the resistance of Dimensions that are filled with magical energies by using science…”

The Ancient One brought her hands together slowly, covering the grimoire in a rainbow brilliance similar to the Bifrost “This energy is from the Darkforce Dimension but something is wrong with it…”

“What could that be?” The Disciples asked confused, also using this learning moment to ask questions since it was rare to get a personal lesson from The Ancient One.

The Ancient One twirled her hand above the grimoire, extracting a wisp of darkforce energy and throwing it into her teacup and stirring as she explained “In the past, before Arthur decided to ban the practice, Kings would bring forth Food Tasters to check their food for poisons…

Over time, Kings grew more paranoid so everyone in the kingdom was forced to study poison as scholars and for the exam, they would take a deadly poison and try and formulate cures before they died. Thousands lost their lives before one cure could be found, but the practice was effective…

Still, tasting your own poison is the best way to overcome it… Later those kings were dethroned when one of the poisoned rose from the dead and adopted the Egyptian Culture, slaughtering kings across the land to become the first non-Egyptian Pharaoh…”

Taking a sip of tea, The Ancient One was amazed at what she found “Not Dormammu… this darkforce energy is untainted so it represents a time before Dormammu ran into the Dark Dimension… but this person is also human so we have no need to look into the matter…”

“Why is that?” The Disciples inquired confused but immediately felt like idiots after.

The Ancient One closed her eyes once more and waved her hand in dismissal, but gave a small explanation just before the Disciples could exit “Because this person holds sway over an entire section of the Dark Dimension that is untainted… The pure flow of Darkforce Energy that is unable to be turned off will keep flowing… this person will die a painful, agonizing death within a year…”

With the Disciples gone, The Ancient One created a portal to the Mirror Dimension, blowing a dark mist through her lips that destroyed everything for twenty feet inside the Mirror Dimension within seconds.

Seeing the amount of damage caused by that small bit of ‘poison’, The Ancient One even felt a bit of sorrow for the person inflicted with such potent Darkforce energy “Your battles are great, young Tyrone…”

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Defence Committee Hearing (Betty and Tyrone)

Cough

Cough

Betty drove the car into the parking lot and hopped out, inhaling a fresh breath of air that she hoped would also enhance the freshness of the bold statement she was about to make in front of members of the committee/senate.

“Ready?” Betty asked, nervous but also determined.

Glancing around and seeing Tyrone still hiding in the car, Betty walked over and pulled him outside without any decorum.

Tyrone groaned and replied half-enthusiastically “Ready!”

With everything in place, Betty dragged Tyrone towards the senate chambers for the meeting she was about to spontaneously appear at.

Cough

Cough

Tyrone coughed twice more garnering Betty’s disappointed gaze “Are you trying to fake something or are you genuinely sick?” she asked accusingly, daring him to answer anything aside from ‘I’m a 100%’.

Tyrone rolled his eyes “I’m fine…”

The duo sundered off towards the elevators, though Tyrone’s handkerchief remained in the car along with the two smudges of black blood that soaked the surface.