If I Never Knew You

Uncle Tom. The words have been burned into her head since she read them. It’s True: Monty Python has done blackface countless times; hell, they even did yellow and red face. They took on anybody and made satire. But she knew some of it wouldn’t age well. She tried her best to take on roles played initially by one of the Pythons as Africans, but one skit wouldn’t make sense if she came home as the “son” who now looked like someone from an African tribe. It worked better when Graham Chapman showed up, with his English accent intact. She couldn’t get them to change it. It was Terry J who had to tell her that the satire was their way of poking fun at racially insensitive people, to show how ridiculous it was. In the future, those skits never bothered her, and it was clear it was their intention, but she couldn’t really tell him how much the world was going to change. Even if she could, it would just come off as a guess, not the truth, in 1970.

                She thought her taking on most of the roles would be enough until she saw a black-owned paper run by the Black Londoner Coalition calling her an Uncle Tom. She knew the US had the Black Panther Party, but London had some minor, similar factions as well. She didn’t tell the others about it; she didn’t know how and feared they dig in their hills. She tried her best to put it out of her mind. She knew there would be some challenges returning to 1970, but she hoped she could avoid most of them by riding the highs of her wish. Reality finally showed up.    

                She was drinking something when Eric Idle flicked her straw. A few splashes got on her. She just glanced at him, and with a sly smile, all he said was, “slurping again.” She looks down, not even wanting to engage. He continued, “You’re not convincing me that every Texan doesn’t live in a barn.” Out of all of them, Eric took the most immense delight in the fact that she was from Texas. Sometimes he asks her questions, and she swears he got them from a western. Sometimes she goes along and later corrects him a week later. Every time she said “y’all,” he would laugh and repeat the word. He wanted to do a Texas skit several times, but she firmly vetoed it each time. She was a proud Texan and didn’t want it to be riddled with stereotypes that Europeans probably already thought were true. Eric continued, “Though I still say your eating is worse. You can tell me you came here as a refugee from Texas, right?” She stayed silent. Terry J spoke up, “Enough, Eric, can’t you see something is bothering her?” “I’m having fun, she teases me just as much, come on, throw a zinger.” “I’m sorry, Eric, I can’t, excuse me.” She gets up to leave and then turns back, “I think they brought in cheese, better hurry up and get you some rat face, your metamorphosis is almost complete.” The room erupted in laughter as he just stood there trying to get one more in before she walked out.

                Terry J caught up with her, “Hey, slow down. Are you okay? I will talk with Eric.” “No, don’t, he’s right, we tease each other, it’s par for the course.” “Yes, but not when something is clearly bothering you.” She stayed silent, and Terry took her hand in his soft hands, “Please talk to me. If I can, I would fix it in a heartbeat.” She looked into his dark eyes; they were so tender. She wanted to tell him all about the magazine, but then it hit her that he was the one who didn’t take her warnings about the blackface and satire seriously. She knows it’s not his fault, but she couldn’t help but be a little mad at him, too. She removed her hand from his. “Terry, honestly, you wouldn’t get it, just drop it.” Terry looked saddened and put a hand on each of her shoulders and said, “If you don’t give me a chance, how could I?” “Please, Terry, let me handle this on my own.” Defeated, Terry said, “Okay, if that’s what you wish, but if you change your mind, you can always come to me.” She wasn’t sure of that, but she hugged him, and he returned it with a tighter one before they broke.

                Later that day, Eric, Terry, Michael, and she went for drinks. She was still a bit distracted but tried her best not to sour the mood.  Michael had to leave early, much to her disappointment, and shortly after he left, they all decided to part ways. As they were walking out, a crowd of black people approached them. A man spoke from the crowd, “I told you I saw them here, Monty Python with their Uncle Tom in  tow.” Her face broke, Eric and Terry looked at her and back at the crowd. Another heckler spoke up, “Anymore shucking and jiving you want to do for master?” She couldn’t speak up, and Eric spoke up, “What’s all this then?” The first man spoke up again and said, “We're talking about how your little pet sits idly by, why you make fun of our people. We are the Black Londoners Coalition, and we had enough of being a joke to white media and seeing the injustice and unfair housing towards us. And has she lifted a finger to help, or speak up, no she prances around like a sambo getting checks and ignoring her people.” Next it was Terry J to speak, “you don’t understand we do satire we’re actually trying to make fun of-“ Someone from the crowd said “shut up, we saw your little program all your trying to do is make fools of us.” “No, we-“ She quickly stops him, “Terry, just stop please.” Someone in the crowd mocked her, “Tewwy, please stop, that's the right defense master.”

                Suddenly, a man shoved her, and Eric's face contorted, “Right, you bastards.” Eric decked the guy cold, and the crowd grew rowdy, with some going to the man and others yelling at Eric. Terry screeched, “I’m phoning the cops!” And ran in the direction of the pub. Another man hit Eric in the stomach, but he quickly recovered and decked him back, and suddenly grabbed her hand and ran across the street and further down to his car. “Get in, Get in!” She did as told, and Eric swiftly drove away. “Eric, are you okay?” “We had to get out of there. I’m white and a celebrity, the police will be much harder on them than me, they are mad, but it’s not worth a jail sentence, it won’t help our cause either way.” She was shocked after all that he actually cared about the protestors.

                When he got to her flat, he said, “Here I’m walking you in.” She was sure she was fine at home, but there was a sternness in his voice that she didn’t argue with him. Once she got to her door, she started to say goodbye, and Eric winced. “Eric, are you okay?” Eric touched the part of his stomach that was hit and winced again. He lifted his shirt a bit, and a large bruise was forming. With worry in her voice, she said, “We should get you to the hospital!” “Nah, it’s just a bruise, looks worse than it is. Do you have frozen peas or meat? I don’t have anything like that at my place.” “Yeah, sure, come in.”

                Once inside, she got him a bag of frozen vegetables, and he lifted his shirt halfway up and placed it on his bruise. She couldn’t help but look over at the skin that was showing and bit her lip a little. Then she said, “Um, it’s best if it’s in a towel, you can get frostbite.” “Then you should’ve brought me a towel, goofball.” “Jesus, okay, one second. She hurried and got him a towel to wrap the package in. He spoke up, “What would possess them to act that way?” She decided to come clean, reached for the magazine on her coffee table, and turned to the article. “This.” Eric started reading it and immediately became disgusted. “Oh, they can sod off, you don’t believe this, do you?” “…” “Hey, don’t listen to this. Jesus, why didn’t you say anything?” She just looked at him with sorrowful eyes, and suddenly, he remembered when she did try to change the direction of how they handled minorities. He huffed, “I really am a bastard.” “No, I understand where you guys were coming from; you couldn’t have known this would happen.” “No, you tried to tell us, and I seconded to keep things as they were, but that stops today, no more dressing as other ethnicities, it stops now.” ”Yeah, but if we suddenly change it, it will result in Terry saying-“ Then she went in the high-pitched voice that others use when they mock him. “It’s not really Python. He’s right, you make fun of white English more than anyone.” “Oh, I can handle Terry. I already hit 2 people tonight; a third won’t matter.” “Let’s try to be civil with one another, we can handle this tactfully,” “But I really want to punch Terry!” They both laughed.

                Then Eric's face got serious, and he asked, “Is it this bad in the States?” She knew about race relations at the time: “It can be, it can be a lot worse, especially in the south.” “Was it tough for you in Texas?” She can only go back to her real-life experience. “Honestly, it didn’t bother me much. Austin is a little different from the rest of Texas.” She didn’t know what 1970s Austin was like, but Austin couldn’t have become the liberal city it is overnight. “I mean, I was always different, I mostly like music my parents called the white people’s music. I  like some of the white fashion  more, and I guess it didn’t help that I always had a thing for white men.” Eric gave a big smile, and she kicked herself for letting it slip. “So if I_” Then suddenly, her phone rang. He said, “You'd better get that.” “No, what were you going to say?” “It was going to be a stupid joke, answer the phone.”

                She quickly rushed to the phone and answered. It was Terry J. She explained to him what happened, but she omitted that Eric was there. After the phone call, she joined Eric on the couch. “So tell me more about Austin, I'd like to see it.” Crap, she’d be caught. She couldn’t navigate 1970s Austin; it had changed so much since she was a kid, and she moved away in her 30s, and she couldn’t navigate it in 2026. Then she remembered that future Eric Idle lived in California. “Actually, when I go back to the states, I love to see LA, that would be much more of an adventure than Texas, trust me.” Eric smiled, “Then it’s a date, I'd love to see it with you.” Her heart fluttered a bit, and they smiled sweetly at each other. Then Eric said, “I'd better get going, there is something I have to take care of early in the morning.” “Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow.” “See ya goofball.” “Goodnight, rat face.” “You really think I have a rat face?” He almost seemed insecure. Then she said, “You know you’re handsome, stop fishing for compliments.” “At least you didn’t say cute, tired of being the cute one, makes me feel like no one will take me seriously.” “You’re getting older, trust me, they will, and they already do.” “Thanks.” He gives her the cold bag and towel back and turns to leave, but she couldn’t help but get one more jab in. “Goodnight, cutie.” “Ugh.”  He stepped closer. Lifted her chin gently, not possessive, not rough, just enough for her to look at him. Their breath mixed. For a second, she thought he would kiss her. He didn’t. In a low voice, he said, “Don’t call me cutie.” Then he let go. Turned and left. She sat quietly on her couch, reflecting on the night.

                The next day, as the others arrived, Eric was already there, looking intently at paperwork before anyone spoke. Eric said, “Alright, everyone, let’s go.” John asked, “Where are we going?!” “To talk to the execs.” “Why?” asked Michael. “You’ll know why when we get there. It’s important, let's go.” John became irritated, “I like to know what I’m getting into.” Eric snapped, “A fight with me if you don’t come, just let me do all the talking now, let's go.” They followed Eric to the BBC's execs' office. They barged into the office and spoke to the one in charge. Eric threw the paperwork on his desk before he could talk. “It is not right that Patricia is getting paid less than we are. I don’t know if it’s because she is black or a woman, but it stops now, or we quit.” The others looked shocked at each other, and Eric looked back at them, his eyes filled with anger. They all knew not to say anything, but she wasn’t sure if that meant they quit with Eric. Eric continued, “We are all Pythons; we either get paid the same, or you don’t have any Pythons!” The man stiffened, then looked at the paperwork before returning his gaze to Eric. Then he said, “Eric, I’m sure we can reach an agreement. Let’s schedule a meeting for next Monday.” Terry let out a sigh of relief, and Eric smiled happily before leading them out of the office.

                Back in the studio, the others were getting on him for putting him in that position, but all Eric said was, “It needed to be done. Now we need to get to work, Patricia, you’re writing with me today.” She was shocked, Eric always wrote alone, but she went with him happily. In the future, he would say he is the 6th nicest Python, and that very well could be true, but in her eyes, he certainly was the kindest.

A/N-Please leave a review <3