"Baby, I want you to meet mom and dad," I said turning towards them. "Folks, this is Sherrie Stewart my fiancée." I held my breath.

"That is pronounced Cher-hee (over pronouncing it slowly, forming the sounds with her mouth, like my parents were complete idiots). You know, like that old singer - what is she now, a hundred?"

"Oh crap," I thought to myself, "stumbling right out of the starting gate. This can't go anywhere but downhill." I held my breath even more intently.

"She's lovely John," mother said to me looking her up and down, sizing her up for the kill.

"I wonder if they have been to bed yet," mom must have been thinking this; Her disapproval was written all over her face.

I swear I could hear my dad's thoughts from across the room. "She is just after our place. She sees my home and property and thinks she can just screw her way into it. I know the game she's playing!"

My father had a thing he did that I've heard referred to as mind fighting.

"Well darlin', what does your father do for a living?" He smiled while looking her over, much like a starving dog does a meaty pork chop.

"My father is a loading dock foreman for Big Air. With stock options, he really rakes in the bucks." She looked at his grinning visage and likely was thinking; "I hope their son doesn't turn into him after a decade or so." John is sort of good looking now, but it's pretty much a crap shoot the older they get."

"You know, they wouldn't let me in the army," he said, letting a crazy comment rip. "Oh God," I thought, "What's comin' next? I'm just not going to make it through this, am I?"

No one picked up on his come on and so he finished it. "I was missing a testicle. The other one just sucked up into my pelvis region and wouldn't come out!"

—— Dead —— Silence! ——

I was shaking my head, half smiling looking at the ground. "I don't really need a wife or someone to love me - I have my emotional scars for comfort!"

"Let's go into the kitchen," Mom said slapping dad on the arm just inches from Sherrie's face.

"What…what did I say? He cried out, looking puzzled.

Walking into the kitchen, my girlfriend whispers to me, "So, is there anything about your nuts I should know about?"

I responded, "Just that they're the size of raisins from stress. I think you know what I mean."

"We believe in a strict religious upbringing," mom said planting the notion into Sherrie's mind.

I said loudly to offset the damage now being done in stereo, "When did that happen? Dad hasn't been to church, since the pastor told him not to come back, after he mentioned the testicle story, while praying out loud during the last church picnic."

"We worship at home - in our own way," was her response, looking at me sideways with - one of those looks.

"Really?" I responded, "When did that happen?"

"With all the diseases and unplanned pregnancies today, the womb can be a very dark and unfriendly place," mom said trying to recover from my attempt at salvaging any hope of Sherrie wanting me after this. "Well," I thought, "It can't get any worse than this."

"Do you know how to use feminine hygiene products, sweetie?"

"Oh wait; it can," I thought in total red-faced humiliation.

Somehow, Sherrie took offence to this.

"I want you to know, I wash with a disinfectant after every date AND I have a year's supply of contraceptive sponge products…"

"Okay," I thought to myself, "Way too much information. And really, I didn't know that! And okay, how many guys have been before me? And maybe I need to get myself checked out, like soon!"

"You've told me all I need to know dearie!" mother said defiantly, a common state of mind she developed after being married to my father for over forty years.

"Women of your age can't remember ever having really good sex and are jealous of those of us who do." Sherrie crossed the line with that one, but was too arrogant to realize it.

While the spite began to fly, I stepped outside, remembering the days when safeguards prevented many of these selfish, hurtful exchanges. But after He left, truth must have left with Him.

My girl coming over to meet mom and dad seems less important now. None of them sense or feel the difference.

Truth use to be a baseline reference but now, it's taken for granted that everyone is lying - all the time - with every word that is spoken. Even when words are factual, the intent and motivation are deceptive.

But in a way you know, it takes the pressure off. I now know what to expect.

I stepped back into the kitchen long enough to hear the words, "bony butt" and then stepped outside once again, knowing Sherrie was lost to me. I guess if someone really loved me enough, they would endure the outlandish selfishness that defines my lineage. And I suppose I should be thankful. I've been saved for another chance at love.

Hey, wait a minute…that was kind of truthful…wasn't it?

"We're supposed to meet up with your parents at noon, Amber. Stop looking at yourself in the mirror, and let's go."

The beautiful young creature pulled herself away from the Vanity at the Manoir Sur-le-Cap, hesitantly. "Okay, I'm coming - but I look so amazing in a silver-backed mirror, sweetheart."

"You're certainly right about that, my love," said the 80-year-old man, leaning in to see her in the mirror. "It was definitely love at first sight!" The couple gave each other a peck on the lips before leaving their suite of rooms.

As they walked out the entry door of the 14 room hotel, Amber caught sight of Doctor Georges Douglas and shouted a greeting at him. He turned and waved politely. "He's probably on his way to the Grosse-Ill in search of quarantined immigrants. I wonder what he thinks when he gets to the sick-houses and they've been turned into factories."

The Manoir Sur-le-Cap was only a few minutes from the Chateau Frontenc, thought by some to be one of the most stunning pieces of Victorian architecture on the North American continent. On the way there Amber saw a relative in a nearby park and waved. "Look Norman, there's my Aunt Zelma!"

"Where?" he asked adjusting his heavy, black rimmed glasses.

"Right there at the entrance to the park."

Norman looked again and saw an elderly woman, mostly transparent, floating beside a small pine tree. She seemed to be waving hello. "I think she likes you honey. She doesn't come out of the park for just anyone," Amber told him.

"Well she looks very nice – except for the whole neck thing," the old man said, trying to be diplomatic.

"Yes, fell from a bike you know…"

"No, I didn't know…" Silas began but was cut off by another greeting from the beautiful creature at his side.

"There's Uncle Justin and the twins."

The old man looked towards the park and saw three ghosts floating in a small canoe. They seemed to be rowing through the paths towards Aunt Zelma. Amber said: "Well, at least when the boat sank it reunited the family."

Norman tugged at his beard for a moment, as if lost in thought. "Being from Wyoming, my hometown isn't as, well, as rich in those who have gone before as this community is. It's probably just a matter of more space and fewer people, I suppose – dead and alive."

The couple was nearing the entrance of the Chateau Frontenc when Amber stopped and turned to her fiancé. "We're meeting up at this café because mother is here, of course. She died in 1998 from choking on a bone – so don't order the chicken – it would be in bad form."

"Okay. I'll order a steak, tender. I could have it run through a blender if you'd like, love."

"No, no," she laughed. "Just a sirloin not a T-bone will be fine I'm sure." They were still chuckling as they climbed the stairs outside, went through the entry, and headed towards the Le Café de la Terrasse. The room turned out to be a narrow one, perhaps twenty feet across with light flooding in via half a dozen huge windows on their left. The carpet was thick, blue and elaborately decorated. Tinted glass curved above the windows, matching the carpet.

"I can see why your mother doesn't mind haunting this place," said Norman. "It's amazing."

Amber waved to her parents who were already at the table. Amber's father, 20 years younger than Amber's fiancé, poured glasses of red wine for himself and Norman. The two men ordered a meal apiece and then settled down to do some serious talking.

"Tell me why you'd want to marry my daughter, Norman – if you don't mind me calling you by your first name," said the father.

"I don't mind at all – if I may call you Justin in return." They nodded to each other. "Well then, Justin, it was love at first sight. I saw Amber here in Quebec City while I was at the hospital having a surgery, and she was absolutely the most flawlessly beautiful creature I had ever beheld."

The father straightened up a bit. "Of course she's flawless – it was too many plastic surgeries that did her in!"

They all sat in silence for a moment as Justin regained his composure. Amber's mother put her hand through Justin's arm, and he looked at her, and simmered down a bit. "When I was growing up, an incarnate and a specter wouldn't have been allowed to marry," he said. "But I suppose things are different now – in this modern age."

Amber chimed in. "Indeed they are, daddy. I'm in love with Norman and he has an amazing home that we can live in together – well not live in, but you know what I mean."

Justin looked over the old man before him. "But why would you want to marry a ghost, Norman? I don't understand?"

Norman shrugged gently. "It won't be too many years from now when I can join Amber beyond death. And at that time I'll be able to chase her properly. I'm happily willing to wait for that moment when we can hold each other on the other side."

"What do you think mother?" asked Amber's dad.

The ghost began to speak but nothing came out, so she merely went to her daughter's side and they hugged each other.

Justin leaned in a little, whispering to Norman. "She used to nag, nag, nag – but since that accident with the chicken bone, she's absolutely perfect!"

The men who were both alive chuckled quietly, looking over at the ghost women they adored. The food came and the happy individuals talked deep into the afternoon - at least three of them did.

"You're going to meet my parents soon, sweetheart," the tall, chestnut-haired young man told his wife while walking along the path with their 4-year-old son.

The blonde-haired girl smiled at him in return.

As the two reached the clearing in the park, he immediately saw his parents already sitting in the meadow, busily placing the food on a small tablecloth on the ground. The older one, his father, raised his greying head and greeted him and the nephew. The red-haired grandmother beckoned, too. They hadn't seen each other in person yet.

The couple sat near the young man's parents and everyone shook hands.

After some drinks, the father asked them, "How is your young son? It's the first time you've come home since your sudden foreign wedding, but I can tell he's in a very good shape."

"Yes, he is…" the 20-year-old woman replied. "Actually, nowadays it's not very easy to find a color combination that suits him when we bring him out, I mean, since everything changed…"

"Yes, I can imagine. For someone of your generation this must be a difficult task." He sneered amusedly at the boy. "We were young in a different time, before the Great Change…"

"Don't misunderstand me, I'm glad for what the aliens did, the modifications they brought to Mankind, but I'm a fashion designer, so, you understand…"

"I know how you feel, my wife wanted to be a stylist, too, when she was younger, but she didn't make it and then we married, so she became a housewife."

The old woman nodded,pleased.

"Anyway, I remember what she told me when younger, that is: 'Never wear more than three colors at a time' and 'White is perfect on black, the contrary as well' and so on."

"Yes, I did," she said "but today things are far more difficult for young couples with children - the whole world of fashion has been turned upside down."

"I know," he replied. "But just think of all the advantages the Great Change has given our present world!"

"Yes, I do think about it," his wife stated. "We were almost on the brink of extinction, the African-American citizens were attacked by the Hispanic groups in the suburbs, the Indian immigrants fought against the Chinese in the Asian streets and the people of European descent hated the South American workers - it was really a very bad time worldwide. When the differences, even the smallest and most stupid ones among us become more important than the things that unite us, only bad things can follow."

"Yes, I agree…" his son's partner said. "But, anyway, what the aliens did…"

"It was unexpected and incredible, but it settled most things down in the end."

"Yes, but…I mean, many people didn't accept what the aliens did. Many of our friends simply don't want any babies any more, they refused to have children from that moment on. So, it's a pity that our son will not be able to have their children as friends, eventually. He has lost the opportunity to grow up with them…"

"They didn't accept the fact because of their own racial opinions, I can see that – which is an unfortunate thing."

The old man looked at the young woman's face and then at her son's features, and he thought he was figuring out her worries. He remembered what the aliens did when they came to Earth for the first time. As they found a planet whose countries were continuously involved in bloody battles and unending, racially based wars among different nations, they simply acted as they had already done on several other worlds they had visited - planets where the population was seriously divided due to racial issues.

How were they able to get those mixed racial traits/features in a child? Maybe by combining together gene sections of Mankind, maybe by other means like forced evolution… Or was it only a trick, destined to disappear when he grew older? Nobody could say it… The grandparent looked at his nephew: had his face the skin-tone of African- Americans or not?Had his arms the complexion of an Indian citizen,were the eyes almond-shaped like the ones of the Far Eastern peoples or was it just an impression?Did his legs possess a pink/whitish shade the same as the north Europeans or not? A patchwork of the most visible differences coming from all the divergent populations or simply a very realistic illusion?

So, as a consequence of the Great Change, everything was different. Many racial wars stopped at once, but in the end other problems arose. The more racist groups refused to have children with traits coming from the other ethnic groups they hated so much. This would eventually lead to the natural extinction of those small groups, of course, when those who wanted to remain childless died off instead of giving birth to boys and girls they didn't consider their own. But that was a minimal consequence for their actions, or so the aliens thought. Of course, the different ways of thinking about politics, religion and development among the countries worldwide didn't change, but some differences that had caused so many troubles worldwide during Mankind's previous history ceased eventually.

"But just think of the new opportunities, the new similarities are stronger than the differences among the newborn children." the son comforted his partner.

"I do," she nodded. "but I'm disappointed that I can't find any clothes to dress my child in whose colors exactly fit my baby's skin. I mean, just look at his white shirt that is okay against his face, but doesn't fit in a fashionable way the too pale skin tone of his legs in these shorts!"

'No time anymore to have everything in black or white' the old parent chortled 'After all, you can't satisfy everyone…'

The early morning fog, gradually burning off from the emerging sun, gave the park entrance an ethereal glow. The filmy dress of clouds appeared to Brad and Betty as a sign of something special. But their awed appreciation of the view was quickly grounded by the sight of a pink-white albino man pushing a cart holding his belongings.

"That poor man," Betty Erasmus murmured. "Will he always be lonely?"

"Yes he will be. It's a defect that can't be corrected," whispered Bradley Christensen.

Both of them turned shades of white-gray that hid them from sight, matching the background color of the clouded park.

Breaking the spell Brad said, "Come on let's get some breakfast. I need to eat first and get my blood sugar to its proper level, especially if I'm supposed to meet Them today." Brad brightened up as he thought about the upcoming event. He would be asking for Betty's hand in marriage. It was a bit old fashioned, but Betty's folks were from the old school and formality was of the utmost importance. Proper ritual was a sign of good breeding.

Betty stopped, and pulling on Brad's arm said, "I almost forgot. We're supposed to bring some food and wine, you know, like a picnic. Dad likes those things and today should be just fine weather wise. And regarding the wedding, we can pick the colors we want as the time approaches."

"After he approves, that is," stated Brad in a matter-of-fact, it's a done deal manner. But in truth, he was worried. His face began to pale, so Betty gave him a kiss. He turned red. In public of all places, PDA! Brad was a bit of a prude and somewhat like Betty's father in that manner.

They headed for the restaurant. 'Shoes, Shirts, and Colors, Otherwise NO Service' read the sign in the window. They paid it no attention. It was from the old days. Now nobody gave it a second glance. They both ordered green eggs and ham. "Scrambled well please and see what you can do about the ham. White-Pink just doesn't make it for me today," said Betty remembering the albino.

"Red?" asked the waiter.

"Extra red number 4 will be just fine," answered Betty

"I'll have the same, thanks," Brad added.

After breakfast they strolled to the food store. There they picked out a nice rose wine with a cooling wrap, some cheese and crackers and headed back to the park. Brad was always on time or early. "Being late was an insult only excused by death," he would quip. They strolled about for a while and headed to the band shell where they were to meet her folks.

This wasn't the first time he'd met them, but this was a formal meeting. Brad was dressed in a white sport coat and slacks. They went with anything. And in the summer it was a cool color. Betty was wearing a blouse in deep ultramarine blue, her favorite color and jeans. She had a hint of purple-pink about her. She saw no need to get dressed up. They were her parents, not his.

"Young man?" a voice boomed from a bench.

"Oh my, are we late?" Brad whispered to himself. He was turning green. Betty thought it looked nice against his sport coat but quickly realized that he was panicking. She grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze. Color came back to his cheeks only bright red. She laughed to herself, silly boy.

"Young man," the voice said again, "It's good to see you're early. I like that in a person." Betty's father had his hand out. It was large and had a purple-black complexion today. His suit was light gray and face was a gun metal gray and sported a white handlebar mustache. An ebony walking stick was by his side and a leather bag hung across his shoulder.

Betty's mother was a lovely shade of mauve. Her suite was deep lavender that complemented her color rather well. Her parents looked dapper.

Her dad smiled and patted Brad on the shoulders. "Relax Bradley. Let's have a drink and we can sit and talk. The girls will get to the other things. Ladies, you will excuse us for a bit we have some business to discuss." His big hands guided Brad to a set of benches on the other side of the band shell. "So what is it you wanted to ask me?"

Brad stuttered "ssssir," for a second. His face went from green to red, then to ashen white and from that to gray. He breathed deeply took control of his heart beat, brought it down and then settled on a nice red. "Sir, Mr. Erasmus, sir, I would like to marry your daughter if I may have your permission."

Mr. Erasmus looked Bradley straight on. He didn't say a thing for a while. He wanted to see what Bradley would do. Bradley just stood there returning the look. Mr. Erasmus smiled and said, "by all means you have my best wishes. Now let's have that drink.

Brad was about head back to the others when Mr. Erasmus said, "hang on." And from that fine black leather bag, he pulled out a flask, and two silver cups. He poured out the whiskey, handed a cup to Brad and said, "A man's drink. To your health; to both of you, and a long and fruitful life. You may call me Fred or dad. You're now, or soon will be, family."

Fred was smiling, glowing black with happiness.

Bradley matched his color, said, "Salute," and drank it down.

In the distance an old pink-white man, the one Brad and Betty noticed earlier, watched the whole proceeding. He was an outcast. The signs that Betty, Brad and everyone ignored were for those like him, people of no color. They were invisible, ignored and when possible, forgotten. He was one of the last.