A KKK member wakes up in a world where whites are the minority .

A woman and a boy enter a weathered two story home, their noses crinkle as they enter, smelling its dusty air. A dog barks, runs up, sees them, and walks back to its bed. 
 
 `` Grandpa, grandpa,'' yells Jimmy running up the stairs. 
 
 `` Jimmy! Let your grandpa sleep,'' yells mom from the kitchen. 
 
 Grandpa stands at the bedroom doorway and picks up his grandson running his hair through his kinky black hair with a frown. His hand runs against the boy's brown cheek. He kisses the boy and says, `` Give me a minute sonny. Your old grandpa ai n't the man he used to be.'' Jimmy smiles and runs off into the backyard, calling the dog unsuccessfully to join him. 
 
 `` Dad, how are you,'' asks the woman. `` You should have come to Tom's funeral. A lot of people were there.'' 
 
 Grandpa sits at the kitchen table and stretches his right knee a couple times. `` Well, I never liked him much. We had a falling out years ago. Old wounds do n't heal, you know,'' he says rubbing his knee. 
 
 `` He quit the... club long ago. We fought. Some hotheads went to his house. He fired a warning shot from that Remington of his. We decided not to talk much after. Just pleasantries when our wives were around.'' 
 
 `` So you guys were n't friends this whole time,'' she asks. 
 
 `` Yeah. Like I said just pleasantries. Its a small town,'' he replies repeating, `` a small town.'' 
 
 The woman sighs. `` When are you going quit that goddamn'club' of yours? Its embarrassing, dad. It embarrasses me, Jimmy, and especially Tyrone. I just do n't know what to say when you talk about it. Your grandson is half-black for Christ's sake!'' 
 
 Grandpa leans back, `` That club is the last of my friends. The last of everything. `` He waves his hands dismissively. `` Its part of a different america, not your america. Just let this old man be.'' 
 
 `` But, its against our family. Its...'' she hesitates. 
 
 
 Grandpa suddenly snaps, `` You say you believe in multiculturalism. Well this is my friggin culture!'' He pounds the table with his fist. `` My culture,'' he repeats. 
 
 She sighs. 
 
 
 
 `` Well, Leroy sends his regards, but you know...'' she says looking away. 
 
 `` Yeah, I know,'' he says, staring out the window, cracking his knuckles. `` Can you leave Jimmy here today for a bit. Thinking we can play in the yard with that old dog. Maybe bbq some steaks,'' he says petting his bloodhound. `` Maybe Leroy can come pick him up later,'' he pauses, `` or I can drive him back. Either way is fine with me. Truck still runs.'' 
 
 `` Sure dad, maybe I'll clean up while you two play,'' she says half-smiling at the old man and leaning over to pet the dog. `` Poor Bertha, she looks so old.'' The dog's ears perk up hearing her name and she licks the woman's hand. 
 
 Grandpa grabs a hat sitting on the table. It has an image of the confederate flag on it. He reaches to put it on his head, looks up at his daughter, pauses, folds the hat, and puts in his back pocket. 
 
 She brings Jimmy into the room, tells him they're staying for a while, and the boy and the old man walk off into the yard hand in hand, with Bertha slowly following behind, wagging her tail. The dog barks and Jimmy replies, `` woof woof!'' He looks up to his grandfather, `` I like your old dog.'' 
 
 Grandpa raises an eyebrow, `` Sometimes old things are best,'' as he reaches in his back pocket for his hat, makes sure his daughter is n't looking, examines it, pauses, and throws the hat into the garbage can. `` Sometimes they are n't, Jimmy. Sometimes they are n't.'' 

