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All the āgrown-upsā were gone, but no one was interested in re-starting the card game. At Amyās suggestion, the guys fixed something to drink while she grabbed some snacks. Provisions in hand, they went out into the warm night air on the screened-in back porch. To keep from attracting bugs, they left the lights off. Except for the glow from inside the house, it was dark.
To no oneās surprise, Mark got the conversation rolling. But what he spoke about came as a surprise. āLook, I wanted to tell yāall about this at the same time. Maybe youāve heard that Lamar Tidwell says heās not going to run for re-election. That means the house seat will be open in the next election.
āWell, and I know this will sound strange, but according to Dad and uncle Frank, some folks want me to run. The idea is that with reapportionment about to hit the fan, and nobody knowing what the feds might do if enough blacks donāt get registered or what itād mean if enough do, well, no strong candidate wants the job and nobodyās mad at me.ā
Amy broke in. āI know itās something youāve always wanted. But thatās in three years. You wonāt graduate until next year. Youāll still be in law school.ā
āIāll apply for early admission,ā said Mark.
Bobās voice drifted across damp, evening air. āIf itāll keep you down in Baton Rouge and out of our hair, Iām all for you.ā
There was a barely perceptible movement, and then Willie spoke. āYou know Iām for you. But what about me? I mean, some people around here wonāt ever forgive you for having a black friend. And if you and Amy register to vote with me, that could tear it with the Klan folks.ā
Amy made a noise somewhere between a laugh and a cough. āWhy Willie, with Mark having an inside track with Bebe and her family, that wonāt be a problem.ā
āWe havenāt even gone on a date,ā protested Mark.
āYet,ā was Amyās terse reply.
Bob, the quietest member of the group, broke the awkward silence. āWillie, feel free to tell me to go to hell and that this is none of my business, but whatās going on up in Sandtown? I mean your parents acted like secret agents or something when they said the name.ā
The porch remained silent except for the sounds of crickets and the rhythmic whir of the overhead fan. āDonāt worry about it, Willie,ā said Bob, in an apologetic tone. āI didnāt mean to give you any grief orā¦.ā
āNo, no, thatās alright. Itās just, well, kind of complicated and Iām not sure where to start.ā
āYou want me to give it a try?ā volunteered Mark.
Willie let out a sigh. āYeah, if you donāt mind.ā
āOkay, some of this you may already know, some maybe not,ā began Mark, turning to face Bobās dim outline. āI donāt have the whole story myself. But hereās a quick down and dirty on what I picked up today. I guess youāve heard the local heartburn level is going way up over the Fedās big push on school integration and the new voter registration campaign Willieās father is running out of their church.ā
Bob nodded, then realized the gesture might be missed in the dark. āWillie and I have talked about it.ā
āWell, a black guy in Sandtown was arrested last night for being a Peeping Tom. Heās supposed to have been looking in the bathroom window of some old white lady in Rollins. Of course, my weird uncle is defending him.ā
āWhich explains why youāre Mr. Know-it-all,ā said Amy.
āCorrect,ā said Mark, who sounded unfazed by the comment. āAnyway, what makes things ticklish is the white woman is a certified nut case, but sheās also some sort of relative of our illustrious sheriff, Odell āDumbassā Tobias. It seems the guy they arrested is no prize, but according to Uncle Frank, odds are heās innocent. The real problem is, he does delivery work in Sandtown for Reverend Carterās first born.ā
Bob leaned toward Willie. āWeāre talking about your half-brother Malcolm, right?ā
āUh huh. His mother was killed in the car wreck that crippled Poppa.ā
āAnd, can I ask what this guy in Sandtown delivers for your brother?ā
āWell, you know Malcolm has a catering business. It does okay, but itās just a cover. His real money comes from bootlegging. Most of his customers are black folks who canāt drive to Hawthorn. This guy, his name is Amos Little, took orders and made a lot of the deliveries in Sandtown.ā
āAh, so,ā said Bob.
No one spoke for a minute, then Willie continued. āWhen he learned Malcolm was a bootlegger, Poppa threw him out of the house. Nowadays they never see each other except at church. Malcolm makes sure to shake Poppaās hand on the way out, and he always asks about my mother and me, but all he gets is a nod. No one in the family will talk to him except me.ā
There was another pause, and then Mark picked up the conversation. āNailing Malcolmās business associate as a Peeping Tom is near and dear to the heart of our beloved sheriff. He figures itād make him a hero in that big, inbred family of his. As a bonus, it might also embarrass Reverend Carter and hurt the voter registration drive. Of course, that would make all the local sheet heads happy. And with all that going his way, even a single digit IQ red-neck like Tobias might get re-elected.ā
āSon-of-a-bitch,ā said Bob.
Amy got up and said she needed to go inside for a minute. A silence followed her unexpected departure until the conversation began picking back up. By some unspoken agreement, the subject was limited to sports. Willie was telling about spring football practice at Grambling when Mark noticed she hadnāt returned. āI guess I better go in and check on our red head,ā he said and went into the house.
He found her in the kitchen, leaning against the refrigerator, with her head cradled in her arms. She was crying but making no noise. While Mark thought he understood her tears, that didnāt mean he knew what to do about them. But he had to do something. This was Amy. Acting on instinct, he pulled her away from the refrigerator and into his arms.
He could feel her body shaking and her tears soaking through the thin fabric of his shirt, wetting his shoulder and chest. Amy seemed to be crying even harder now. But except for quick intakes of air, she did so in virtual silence.
At some point, Bob looked in. His eyes met Markās, who shook his head. Bob nodded, motioned that heād be waiting on the porch, and left.
When the tears began to slow, Amy lifted her head and looked up at Mark through red, swollen eyes. āIām scared,ā she whispered in a small, trembling voice.
āOf what?ā
āOf everything changing. Oh, I know thatās stupid. Things always change. And some things should. But this feeling just came over me that things I love are going to be lost, including people I love very much. And it scared me.ā
āWas it something I said out on the porch?ā
Amy sniffled and shook her head. āNo, I think it was my being sick and getting treated like a little girl again. And the four of us playing cards like we used to. And seeing those dumb old pictures and Nana coming over and daddy telling me how much bigger I am than she is now.
āAnd I guess, out on the porch, hearing yāall talking about what Willieās family is going through, and I know how much some things need to change here in Pinefield, but then I thought about you and Bebe and how that could also change things, and I knew I had to go inside or Iād be squalling in front of everybody, and thatās no way to end what has been a good day
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Note to readers: Next week I'll go back to one chapter, one post. Any feedback, whether brickbats or bouquets, would be appreciated. RdW.ā
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