I’ve always loved time travel stories, especially when they have happy endings. I used to think I’d love to be back in the Old West.
Ya know where I’m going with this. A man of color rides into town riding a handsome horse, wearing fine clothing — and two guns. You can see the women, kids, and cattle running for their lives.
All the alkies are lined up outside the town saloon staring at the stranger, whispering to one another as they gulp their cheap hooch. The saloon gals stare in fascination, their big boobs rising in anticipation over their wonder bras.
The sheriff dashes in to check his wanted posters, the colored section. The town bully sullenly sniffs his glue for some extra courage. The prim school teacher smiles, a warm inviting smile, suggesting that all are welcome in her classroom.
Meanwhile, the Choir in the old church is singing “Nearer My God To Thee”.
The colored gunslinger just keeps riding down Main Street, past the Chinese laundry and chop suey joint without stopping. Ever so slowly, he rides out of town. A small boy runs after the stranger, yelling “Come back, Stranger! Come back! We want you! We need you! Come back, please! We’re all ready for a lynching! Come back, Mister!”
The stranger keeps riding, softling humming “Kumbaya” as his profile disappears in the dust that rises over the horizon.