The one time Gene got in trouble (Gene and Ace- canon)

!Warning!
this story contains slight themes of the racism and separation of people of color in the 60s
It is never my intention to use any incorrect terms, nor is it my intention to misrepresent any group.

I do not condone the actions of racist characters!
However, I feel it would be neglectful to have a character of color from the 60s that has absolutely no trials of racism during the height of the civil rights movements

I thank you for your patience ahead of time, and if need be I will make corrections if I learn something I have represented or said is wrong



     The ticking of the cat clock upon the wall of the principal’s dull office had become far more interesting to Gene compared to the dragging words of the woman that sat before him. She looked down at her papers, her brows furrowed down which created a line on her forehead. The fan on her desk whirred peacefully, and the gentle twitter of a bird just outside of the window behind her played its little melody. Though she was just in front of the young boy who had gotten into a scuffle, he could only see her silhouette due to the bright sunny window just behind her. He could smell the sting of her lavender perfume, and the lingering of a chicken salad lunch she had been snacking on.

     “Really, I just don't understand what happened Gene.” She sighed finally, putting down her papers, of which showed his passing grades. “You’ve never been a problem, please don't become one.”

     Gene said not a word to her. He had sat silently from the beginning of the hour to now, arms crossed over his chest.

     “Listen,” She started in her aged tone, placing her cat eyed glasses down onto her cluttered desk, “I understand your father’s career, but you don't need to be influenced by him. Okay? You’re a good kid Gene, okay?” She said, tilting her head as though wanting a response from him. “All you have to do is say that you won't do it again and I can release you.”

     Gene never enjoyed the way she spoke to him  compared to the other students. She spoke slower, more clearly to him. Many students spoke to him in such a manner despite Gene being able to speak fluent English. He understood fully well. However, they seemed to mistake silence with confusion.

     He would hit another kid again if he felt the need to, absolutely. If it was for a good reason. He could tell her that he wouldn't do it again, but Gene Ramsey was no liar.

     Her gray threatening eyes stared down at the boy who sat in silence in front of her, squinting just slightly which curled the wrinkles in the corners of her eyes. The boy only stared down at her desk stubbornly.

     It was just then that a hefty knock tapped onto the thick wood of the office door.

     “Oh- come on in Mrs. Ramsey.” The woman invited, her tone lifting as though she found a beam of hope. Surely, his mother would understand.

     However, as the door came open a far heftier silhouette stepped into the room. A large gruffy man with a thick mustache above his lip closed the door behind him, looking lost in the foreign space of an elementary school’s office. Much like a dog in a room full of kittens or a thick mug among tea cups, he did not belong in this space. The immediate silence in the woman across the desk gave away her agreement to the fact that Mr. Ramsey should not be here. Where on earth was this boy's mother?

     He was broad with distinct features on his face that resembled his own boy. He had the same drooped lazy eyes and a larger than average nose. He sniffed, his eyes going to the woman, and then Gene before pulling the chair beside his son a bit closer. He flipped it to sit man spread, but soon flipped it back again after catching a glare from the principal.

     The poor chair creaked as the large man sat down as though warning him, wishing to not have its legs broken out from under itself.

     “...ah, and you must be… Gene’s father?” She asked very slowly, sure to enunciate her words carefully. She wore a false smile, stretching the lines that had formed with age on her face.

     “Mhm.” The large man rumbled, leaning forward to extend his hand to her.

     He took her frail cold hand in his far warmer one, giving it a firm single shake before he sat back again, the chair squeaking all the while under him.

     He tucked both hands into his sides, crossing his arms firmly much like his son had, the two mirroring one another in an uncanny moment. Though, Gene’s shoes just barely touched the floor while his father’s boots laid flat.

     “I’m so sorry to inform you Mr. Ramsey, but Gene got into a fight today,” She continued, just as condescending as she had first greeted him, “Like a boxing fight? Okay?”

     Ramsey stared back at her with the same mellow expression that his son displayed, only worrying the woman further that he did not understand her.

     “And we are worried about the wellness of our other students, Okay? He gave Cory Olsone a broken nose. So we are worried, mmkay?”

     “Mm..” Ramsey hummed again, reaching a hand up to rub the side of his scruff as though in thought.

     He glanced down to Gene, who he towered over.

     “Aye.” Ramsey started, knowing Gene was listening without needing a verbal response, “Was it worth it?” He asked, his voice thick with his accent.

     Gene responded with a short nod, to which Ramsey gave a single nod back. He then looked to the horrified woman before him, giving her a shrug.

      “Well uh… there ya go.” He muttered before beginning to stand, letting out a subtle groan while he did as though it proved to be a difficult task. His back gave a quiet pop, and he began to stretch out.

     “Mr. Ramsey,” She started, baffled, “Your son broke the nose of another student.”

     “What do you want me to do?”

     “You're his father.”

     “Yea… uh” He started, now scratching the back of his neck while searching for the right words “Those little critters are uh…always uh… pickin on his friend so… Y'know.”

     He then reached down with his six fingered right hand, placing the massive thing on Gene’s head to give his hair a scruff.

     With that, he rolled his shoulders back and opened the door again, feeling as though his business here had been resolved.





     Ace kicked a rock with the tip of his shoe, having managed to bring it with him nearly all the way home. However, it jutted off to the side this time in an unsatisfactory manner, the rock fumbling away from the path.

     Gene walked beside him, hands in his pockets and a toothpick between his lips. The two hadn't spoken yet, Ace unsure where to start. He wasn't sure if he wanted to speak at all, fearful that Gene would discuss what had happened in the locker room. Not only of what the other boys had done to him, but that Gene had protected him at all.

    He had that slight weight in his chest all day today, and each time his mind wandered back to the incident, Ace’s heart would sink anxiously. Even now, he could hear his heart beating in his ears as he revisited the event. He certainly had already caused Gene trouble by befriending him.. Now, Gene was certainly a target of the bullies as well. Ace was honestly a terrible friend.

     At times, Ace did indeed wish that the school offered colored bathrooms, colored locker rooms, and colored fountains. As degrading as it was, he often found himself fantasizing about the peaceful loneliness it would allow him.

     He would get to change all by himself in a separated locker room. He could easily slip in and out of his PE shorts without fear of rolled rags snapping at him. He would get his own bathroom in which to hide in and he could stay all curled in the corner with his lunch.

     Gene… How unlucky he was to be Ace’s friend. What an awful fate for him. Ace glanced down to his shoes, watching Gene take each step.

     “What do you want to play when we get home?” He asked, his heart pounding heavily as he tested whether or not Gene was mad.

     “Mm… I don't know.” Gene muttered, seeming to be in his own thoughts.

     This only made Ace worry further, looking back down to the ground. He went silent once more, suddenly feeling that his suspicions were confirmed. Gene was incredibly upset with him.

     However, he received a playful nudge from the boy.

     “Aye, I’m not mad.” He said, a slight grin hearable in his voice.

     “I didn't think you were.” Ace lied

     “Yea alright.”

     Gene hopped up the steps to the back porch, the old wood creaking under him as he slid open the glass door for Ace.

     “Aha! There you are!” His mother immediately accused, having been making a late lunch for the boys in the kitchen. “Gene Marco Ramsey, you get your ass in here.”

     Ace spent the afternoon outside on the edge of the porch, swinging his feed back and forth with unfinished homework in his lap. He watched the chickens roam aimlessly while Mrs. Ramsey scolded Gene and her husband- more so her husband- over their faults in the whole situation. Ace felt that it was his fault.

     By the evening though, Gene and Ace were holding ice cream cones in the back of Ramsey’s car.