OneCrazySummer

byRitaWilliams-Garcia

ForthelateChurneLloyd,andespeciallyfor

Maryhana,Kamau,Ife,andOni

Contents

CassiusClayClouds

GoldenGateBridge

SecretAgentMother

GreenStuccoHouse

MeanLadyMing

CollectCall

ForthePeople

GlassofWater

Inseparable

BreakfastProgram

EventheEarthIsaRevolutionary

CrazyMotherMountain

EveryoneKnowstheKingoftheSea

ColoringandLa-La

CountingandSkimming

BigRedS

ChinaWho

ExpertColoredCounting

CivicPride

RallyforBobby

EatingCrow

ItsyBitsySpider

MovableType

SanFranciscoTreat

WishWeHadaCamera

TheClarkSisters

IBirthedaNation

StoresoftheNoSayers

GloriousHill

TheThirdThing

So

BeEleven

Afua

Acknowledgments

AbouttheAuthor

OtherBooksbyRitaWilliams-Garcia

Credits

Copyright

AboutthePublisher

CassiusClayClouds

Goodthingtheplanehadseatbeltsandwe’dbeenstrappedintightbeforetakeoff.Withoutthem,thatlastjoltwouldhavebeenenoughtothrowVonettaintoorbitandFernacrosstheaisle.Still,IanchoredmyselfandmysistersbestasIcouldtobraceusforwhatevercamenext.Thosecloudsweren’tthroughwithusyetanddealtanotherCassiusClay–left–and–a–rightjabtothebodyofourBoeing727.

Vonettashrieked,thenstuckherthumbinhermouth.FernbitdownonMissPattyCake’spinkplasticarm.Ikeptmywhimpertomyself.Itwasbadenoughmyinsidessqueezedinandstretchedoutlikeamonkeygrinder’saccordion—noneedtoletanyoneknowhowfrightenedIwas.

Itookabreathso,whenmymouthfinallyopened,I’dsoundlikemyselfandnotlikesomescaredrabbit.“It’sjustthecloudsbumping,”Itoldmysisters.“LiketheybumpedoverDetroitandChicagoandDenver.”

Vonettapulledherthumboutofhermouthandputherheadinherlap.FernheldontoMissPattyCake.Theylistenedtome.

“Wepushourwayupintheclouds;thecloudsgetmadandpushback.LikeyouandFernfightingoverredandgoldcrayons.”Ididn’tknowaboutcloudsfightingandpushingforafact,butIhadtotellmysisterssomething.AslongasVonettakeptherfeartooneshriekandFernkeptherstobitingMissPattyCake,Ikeptonspinningstraw,makingeverythingallright.That’smainlywhatIdo.KeepVonettaandFerninline.ThelastthingPaandBigMawantedtohearwashowwemadeagrandNegrospectacleofourselvesthirtythousandfeetupintheairaroundallthesewhitepeople.

“YouknowhowPapais,”Itoldthem.“Nowayhe’dputusonaplaneifitweredangerous.”

Theyhalfwaybelievedme.JustasIhadthatsoftplasticarmoutofFern’smouth,thoseCassiusClay–fightingcloudsthrewour727anotherjab.

BigMa—that’sPa’smother—stillsaysCassiusClay.PasaysMuhammadAliorjustAli.IslidebackandforthfromCassiusClaytoMuhammadAli.Whateverpicturecomestomind.WithCassiusClayyouheartheclashoffists,liketheplanegettingjabbedandpunched.WithMuhammadAliyouseeamightymountain,greaterthanEverest,andcan’tnooneknockdowna

mountain.

Allthewaytotheairport,PahadtriedtoactlikehewasdroppingoffthreesacksofwashattheLaundromat.I’dseenthroughPa.He’snoVonetta,puttingonperformances.Hehasonlyoneortwofaces,nothinghidden,nothingexaggerated.EventhoughithadbeenhisideathatweflyouttoOaklandtoseeCecile,Pa’dneveroncesaidhowexcitingourtripwouldbe.HejustsaidthatseeingCecilewassomethingwhosetimehadcome.Thatithadtobedone.Justbecausehedecideditwastimeforustoseeherdidn’tmeanhewantedustogo.

MysistersandIhadstayeduppracticallyallnightCaliforniadreamingaboutwhatseemedliketheothersideoftheworld.Wesawourselvesridingwildwavesonsurfboards,pickingorangesandapplesofffruittrees,fillingourautographbookswithsignaturesfrommoviestarswe’dseeinsodashops.Evenbetter,wesawourselvesgoingtoDisneyland.

Wehadwatchedairplanesliftupandflyoffintoblueskyaswenearedtheairport.Everytimeanotherairlinerflewoverhead,leavingatrailofwhiteandgraysmoke,BigMafannedherselfandasked,“Jesus,why?”

BigMahadkeptquietlongenough.Onceinsidetheterminal,sheletitallhangout.ShetoldPa,“Idon’tmindsayingit,butthisisn’tright.ComingouttoIdlewildandputtingthesegirlsonaplanesoCecilecanseewhatsheleftbehind.Ifshewantstosee,lethergetonanairplaneandflyouttoNewYork.”

BigMadoesn’tcareifPresidentKennedy’sfaceisonthehalf-dollaroriftheairportisnowofficiallynamedafterhim.Shecallstheairportbyitsoldname,Idlewild.Don’tgetmewrong.BigMawasasmadandsadasanyonewhentheykilledthepresident.It’schangeshehasnopityon.HoweverthingsarestampedinBigMa’smindishowtheywillbe,nowandforever.IdlewildwillneverbeJFK.CassiusClaywillneverbeMuhammadAli.CecilewillneverbeanythingotherthanCecile.

Ican’tsayIblamedBigMaforfeelingthewayshedid.Icertainlydidn’tforgiveCecile.

WhenCecileleft,Fernwasn’tonthebottle.Vonettacouldwalkbutwantedtobepickedup.Iwasfourgoingonfive.Pawasn’tsick,buthewasn’tdoingwell,either.ThatwaswhenBigMacameupfromAlabamatoseeaboutus.

EventhoughBigMareadherScripturedaily,shehadn’tconsideredforgivenesswhereCecilewasconcerned.Cecilewasn’twhattheBiblemeantwhenitspokeofloveandforgiveness.Onlyjudgment,andbelieveme,Big

MahadplentyofjudgmentforCecile.SoevenifCecileshoweduponPapa’swelcomemat,BigMawouldn’tswingthefrontdooropen.

ThatwaswhyPahadputusonaplanetoOakland.EitherCecilewouldn’tcomebacktoBrooklynorshewasn’twelcome.Honestly,Idon’tthinkPacouldchoosebetweenBigMaandCecileevenafterCecilelefthim.Andus.EvenafterCecileprovedBigMaright.

“HowcanyousendthemtoOakland?Oakland’snothingbutaboilingpotoftroublecooking.Allthemriots.”

PahasarespectfulwayofignoringBigMa.Iwantedtosmile.He’sgoodatit.

AshrillvoicehadannouncedthedepartingflighttoOakland.Allthreeofushadbutterflies.Ourfirstairplaneride.WayupaboveBrooklyn.AboveNewYork.Abovetheworld!AlthoughIcouldatleastkeepstill,VonettaandFernstampedtheirfeetlikeholyrollersatarevivalmeeting.

BigMahadgrabbedthembythefirstscruffoffabricshecouldgetaholdof,bentdown,andtoldthemto“actright.”Thereweren’ttoomanyof“us”inthewaitingarea,andtoomanyof“them”werestaring.

I’dtakenaquickcountoutofhabit.Vonetta,Fern,andIweretheonlyNegrochildren.Thereweretwosoldierboysingreenuniformswhodidn’tlookanyolderthanUncleDarnell—highschoolcapandgownoneday,armybootsandbasictrainingfourdayslater.TwoteenagegirlswithAfros.Maybetheywerecollegestudents.AndoneladydressedlikeJackieKennedy,carryingasmallovalsuitcase.

BigMahadalsoscoutedaroundthewaitingroom.Iknewsheworriedthatwe’dbemistreatedinsomewayandsoughtoutagrown,brownfacetolookoutforus.BigMaturnedhernoseupatthecollegegirlswithAfrosinfavoroftheNegroladyinthesquaresunglassesandsnappysuittotingtheequallysnappyovalbag.BigMamadeeyecontactwithher.Whenwelinedup,she’dtoldtheNegroJackieKennedy,“Thesemygrandbabies.Youlookoutforthem,y’hear.”ThesnappyNegroladyhadbeenniceenoughtosmilebuthadn’treturnedthelookthatBigMaexpected—andBigMahadexpectedthelookNegropeoplesilentlypasseachother.She’dexpectedthisstrangertosay,asifshewereaneighbor,“They’reasgoodasmyown.I’llmakesuretheydon’tmisbehaveorbeanembarrassmenttotheNegrorace.”Ablankmovie-starsmilehadbeenallshepassedtoBigMa.Thatladyhadonlybeenlookingoutforherplaneseat.

Papahadalreadygivenmeapaperwiththephonenumbertoourhouse,whichIknewbyheart,andthephonenumbertohisjob.Hehadalreadytold

methathisjobnumberwasforemergenciesonlyandnotfor“howyoudoing”chats.Lastnighthehadalsogivenmeanenvelopewithtwohundreddollarsinten-andtwenty-dollarbillstoputinmysuitcase.Instead,I’dfoldedthebillsandstuffedtheminmytennisshoebeforeweleftHerkimerStreet.Walkingonthatmoundofmoneyfeltweirdatfirst,butatleastIknewthemoneywassafe.

PapahadkissedVonettaandFernandtoldmetolookaftermysisters.Eventhoughlookingafterthemwouldhavebeennothingnew,Ikissedhimandsaid,“Iwill,Papa.”

Whenthelinetothetickettakerhadbeguntomove,BigMahadgottentearyandmushedusupinherloose-fitting,violetandgreenmuumuudress.“Bettercomeonandgetsomelovingnow…”Shehadn’thadtofinishtherestabouthowthismightbethelasttimeinalongwhileforkissingandhugging.AflashofmemorytoldmeCecilewasn’toneforkissingandhugging.

Ihadalotofthosememoriesclickingbeforemelikeprojectorslidesinthedark.Lotsofpictures,smells,andsoundsflashinginandout.MostlyaboutCecile,allgoingway,wayback.AndwhatIdidn’trememberclearly,UncleDarnellalwaysfilledin.AtleastUncleDarnellremembersCecilekindly.

GoldenGateBridge

IglancedatmyTimex.Amongthethreeofus,Iwastheonlyoneresponsibleenoughtokeepandwearawristwatch.Vonettaletagirl“seehers”andnevergotitback.Fernwasstilllearningtotelltime,soIkepthersinmydraweruntilshewasreadytowearit.

Sixandahalfhourshadpassedsincewe’dhuggedBigMaandkissedPaatJohnF.KennedyAirport.ThecloudshadmadepeacewithourBoeing727.Itwassafetobreathe.Istretchedasfarasmylegscouldgo.

WiththeselonglegsI’mtakenfortwelveorthirteen,evenalittleolder.Nooneeverguesseselevengoingontwelveontheirfirsttry.Morethanmylonglegs,I’msureit’smyplainfacethatthrowsthemoff.Notplainasinhomelyplain,butevenplain.Steady.I’mnotnineorsevenandgiventosquealingoroohinglikeVonettaandFern.Ijustletmyplainfaceandplainwordsspeakforme.Thatway,nooneeversays,“Huh?”tome.TheyknowexactlywhatImean.

Wewerelonggonefromthick,whiteclouds,theplanesteadilyclimbingdown.Theintercomcrackled,andthepilotmadeanannouncementaboutthedescentandaltitudeandthatwewouldbelandingintenminutes.Iletallofthatpassbyuntilhesaid,“…andtoyourleftaswecirclethebayistheGoldenGateBridge.”

Iwasnowaliar!Astone-facedliar.Iwantedtosquealandoohlikeaseven-year-oldmeetingTinkerBell.IhadreadabouttheGoldenGateBridgeinclass.TheCaliforniagoldrush.TheChineseimmigrantsbuildingtherailroadsconnectingeasttowest.Itwasn’teverydayyousawalivepictureofwhatyoureadaboutinyourtextbook.IwantedtolookdownfromabovetheworldandseetheGoldenGateBridge.

Beingstuckinthemiddleseat,Iwasmadatmyself.Ofthethreeofus,Iwasthefirsttoboardthe727.Whyhadn’tItakenthewindowseatwhenI’dhadmychance?

InsteadofthesquealIknewwouldn’tcomeoutofmeinthefirstplace,Isighed.Nousecryingaboutitnow.Thetruthwas,onepoutfromeitherVonettaorFernandIwouldhavegivenupthewindowseat.

Thiswastheonlywayitcouldbe:VonettaandFernoneithersideandme

inbetweenthem.SixandahalfhourswastoolongatimetohaveVonettaandFernstrappedsidebysidepickingateachother.WewouldhavebeenthegrandNegrospectaclethatBigMahadscoldedusagainstbecomingwhenwewerebackinBrooklyn.

Still,theGoldenGateBridgewasgettingawayfromme.Ifiguredatleastoneofusshouldseeit.Andthatshouldbetheonewhoreadaboutitinclass.

“Look,Vonetta.Lookdownatthebridge!”

Vonettastayedtighttoherstubborncurl,herchininherlap.“I’mnotlooking.”

Iturnedtomyrightandgotamouthfulofhairandbarrettes.Fernhadleanedoverfromheraisleseat.“Iwannasee.Makeherswitch.”ToFern,theGoldenGateBridgesoundedlikeSleepingBeauty’scastle.Shehalfwaybelievedinthingsnottrueanddidn’tknowwherefairytalesended.Nousespoilingitforher.She’dfigurethingsoutsoonenough.

Fernwaswrigglingoutofherseatbeltandclimbingonmetogetaglimpse.Thiswashowitwasathome.Whyshouldathousandfeetupintheairmakeanydifference?“Sitback,Fern,”Isaidinmyplain,firmvoice.“We’regettingreadytoland.”

Shepoutedbutsatbackdown.Itightenedherseatbelt.Vonetta’sfacestayedinherlap.Thatwasjustpitiful.

“Golookdown,Vonetta,”Isaid.“Beforeyoumissit.”

Vonettarefusedtopryherchinfromherlap.Shestuckherthumbbackinhermouthandclosedhereyes.

Iwasn’tworriedaboutVonetta.Oncewegotontheground,she’dbehershowyselfagainandthisfraidycatepisodewouldbelongfaded.

AswecontinuedtocirclethebayabovetheGoldenGateBridge,IfeltlikeIwasbeingteasedforthesimpleactofwanting.EachtimetheplanecurvedaroundIknewinmyheartitwouldbemylastchanceandthebridgewassinging,“Na-na-na-na-na.Youcan’tseeme.”

Now,Ihadtoseethebridge.HowmanytimeswouldIbethishighupandhaveasightasspectacularastheGoldenGateBridgerightunderneathme?Iloosenedmyseatbelt,liftedmyself,andleanedoverVonetta’sheadandshoulderstogetalookoutoftheovalwindow.IpressedagainstVonetta.Justalittle.Notenoughtocauseastir.ButVonettaandFern,whowasnowangry,bothhollered,“Delphine!”asloudastheycould.

Headsturnedourway.Astewardessrushedtoourrow.“Sitinyourseat,missy,”shescoldedme.“We’regettingreadytoland.”

EventhoughtherewereonlyeightNegroesonboard,countingmysistersandme,IhadmanagedtodisgracetheentireNegrorace,judgingbytheheadshakingandtsk-tskinggoingonaroundus.Ishiftedmybehindintomyseatandtightenedmyseatbelt.ButnotbeforeIhadseenorangesteelpokingthroughthickgroundcloudsbelow.Smog.

Therewasnotimetosavormyvictoryorfeelmyshame.Theplanewentroaringdownfartherandfarther.Vonettaheldontomyleftarm,andFern,withMissPattyCake,grabbedmyright.Idugintothearmrestsandprayedthepilothaddonethisbefore.

Theplanebouncedoffthegroundassoonaswehitland.Itkeptbouncingandsurgingforwarduntilthebouncingsmoothedoutandwewererollingagainsttheground,niceandsteady.

ItookadeepbreathsoI’dsoundlikemyselfwhenIstartedtellingVonettaandFernwhattodo.Themainthingwaswewereontheground.WewereinOakland.

SecretAgentMother

TheNegroladywiththesnappyovalbagdidn’tgiveusaglanceassheclick-clackedonby.Thatwasfinewithme,althoughI’dtellBigMaotherwiseifsheasked,justtokeepherfromworrying.AndI’dmakeitshortandsimple.IonlygetcaughtifItrytospintoomuchstraw.

Withbothfeetsafelyontheground,Vonettabecameheroldself,herfaceshinyandsearching.“Whatdowecallher?”

I’dgoneoverthiswithVonettaandFernmany,manytimes.ItoldthemlongbeforePapasaidweweregoingtomeether.Itoldthemwhilewepackedoursuitcases.“HernameisCecile.That’swhatyoucallher.Whenpeopleaskwhosheis,yousay,‘Sheisourmother.’”

Motherisastatementoffact.CecileJohnsongavebirthtous.WecameoutofCecileJohnson.Intheanimalkingdomthatmakesherourmother.Everymammalontheplanethasamother,deadoralive.Ranofforstayedput.CecileJohnson—mammalbirthgiver,alive,anabandoner—isourmother.Astatementoffact.

Eveninthesongwesingwhenwemisshavingamother—andnotherbutamother,period—wesingaboutamother.“Mother’sgottagonow,la-la-la-la-la…”NeverMommy,Mom,Mama,orMa.

Mommygetsuptogiveyouaglassofwaterinthemiddleofthenight.Mominvitesyourfriendsinsidewhenit’sraining.Mamaburnsyourearswiththehotcombtomakeyourhairlookprettyforclasspictureday.Maissoreandwornoutfromwringingyourwetclothesandhangingthemtodry;Maneedspeaceandquietattheendoftheday.

Wedon’thaveoneofthose.Wehaveastatementoffact.

Vonetta,Fern,andIstoodnexttotheyoungredheadedstewardessassignedtowatchusuntilCecilecameforward.Thestewardessrereadtheslipofpaperinherhand,theneyedthebigclockmountedbythearrival-and-departureboard,asifshehadsomeplaceelsetobe.Shecouldhaveleftmealonewithmysisters.Icertainlydidn’tneedher.

Amaninnavyoverallssweptgarbageoffthefloorafewfeetawayfrom

us.Hewentabouthisjobwithnoexpression,sweepingcigarettepacksandgumwrappersintoadustpanthatheemptiedintoalargertrashcan.IfIwerehim,pickingupafterpeoplewhocarelesslydroppedstuffontheground,I’dbenothingbutangry.

Theycallitlitteringwhenyoucarelesslydropthings.Theycallthecarelessfolkswhodropthingsbyacutename:litterbug.

There’snothingcuteaboutdroppingthingscarelessly.Droppinggarbageandhavingpuppiesshouldn’tbecalledthesamething.“Litter.”IhadamindtowritetoMissWebsteraboutthat.Puppiesdon’tdeservetobecalledalitterliketheyhadbeendroppedcarelesslylikegarbage.Andpeoplewholittershouldn’tbegivenacutenameforwhattheydo.Andatleastthemotherofalittersticksaroundandnursesherpupsnomatterhowsharptheirteethare.MerriamWebsterwasfallingdownonthejob.Howcouldshehavegottenthiswrong?

Vonettaaskedmeagain.NotbecauseshewasanxioustomeetCecile.Vonettaaskedagainsoshecouldhaveherroutinerehearsedinherhead—hercurtsy,smile,andgreeting—leavingFernandmetostandaroundlikedumbdodos.Shewaspracticingherroleasthecute,bouncypupinthelitterandaskedyetagain,“Delphine,whatdowecallher?”

Alargewhitewomancameandstoodbeforeus,clappingherhandslikewewereondisplayattheBronxZoo.“Oh,my.Whatadorabledollsyouare.My,my.”Shewarbledlikeanoperasinger.Herfacewasmoonfullandjellysoft,thecheeksandjawframedbywhitewhiskers.

Wesaidnothing.

“Andsowellbehaved.”

Vonettaperkeduptoout-prettyandout-behaveus.

IdidasBigMahadtoldmeinourmanytalksonhowtoactaroundwhitepeople.Isaid,“Thankyou,”butIdidn’taddthe“ma’am,”forthewhole“Thankyou,ma’am.”I’dneverheardanyoneelsesayitinBrooklyn.OnlyinoldmoviesonTV.AndwhenwedrovedowntoAlabama.Peoplesay“Yes,ma’am,”and“No,ma’am”inAlabamaallthetime.ThatoldwordwasperfectlyfineforBigMa.Itjustwasn’tperfectlyfineforme.

Theladyopenedherpocketbook,tookoutaredleatherchangepurse,andscootedcoinsaround,searchingfortherightamountforadorable,well-behavedcoloreddolls.BigMawouldhavethoughtthatwasgrand,butPapawouldn’thavelikeditonecent.NowitwastimetodowhatPapahadtoldme:seeaftermysisters.

“We’renotallowedtotakemoneyfromstrangers.”IsaidthispoliteenoughtosuitBigMabutstrongenoughtosuitPapa.

Theredheadedstewardesswasappalledbymyuppitybehavior.“Don’tyouknowwhensomeoneisbeingnicetoyou?”

Iputonmydumbdodofacetofakenotknowingwhatshemeant.

Whatwasthesenseofmakingthestewardessstandguardoverusifsherefusedtoprotectusfromstrangers?Shethoughtitwasallrighttohavethelargewhitewomangawkatus,talktous,andbuyourattention.Wemightaswellhavestoodbyourselves.

Ididn’thavetoshiftmyeyestoseemile-longpoutsonVonettaandFern.Ididn’tcare.Weweren’ttakingnothingfromnostrangers.

Theladywasallsmilesandsqueals.Herfaceshookwithlaughter.“Oh,andsocute.”SheputallthenickelsinFern’shandandpinchedhercheekfasterthanIcoulddoanythingaboutitandwasgone,asbigasshewas.

VonettagrabbedFern’shand,forceditopen,andtookhernickel,leavingourtwocoinsinFern’spalm.Nousetellingthemtohandthemoneyover.Theywerealreadydreamingofpennycandy.Iletthemkeeptheirnickelsandmine.

Thestewardessreexaminedtheslipofpaper.Sheshiftedfromonelegtotheother.Bothmysistersandme,andherhighheels,werebotheringher.

Ilookedaroundthecrowdofpeoplepacingandwaiting.Papadidn’tkeepanypicturesofCecile,butIhadasenseofher.Fuzzyflashesofheralwayscameandwent.ButIknewshewasbig,asintall,andHersheycoloredlikeme.IknewIatleasthadthatright.

Thensomethingmademelookovertomyleftatafigurestandingbythecigarettemachine.Shemoved,thenmovedback,maybedecidingwhethertocometousornot.Itoldthestewardessbeforethefigurecouldslipoutoftheairport,“That’sher.”

FernandVonettawereexcitedandscared.Theysqueezedmyhandstight.IcouldseeanythoughtsVonettahadaboutrecitingpoetry,tap-dancing,andcurtsyingvanished.ShesqueezedmyhandharderthanFerndid.

Thestewardessmarchedusonovertothisfigure.Oncewewerethere,face-to-face,thestewardessstoppedinhertracksandmadeherselfabarrierbetweenthestrangewomanandus.ThesamestewardesswholetthelargewhitewomangawkatusandpressmoneyintoFern’shandwasn’tsoquicktohandusovertothewomanIsaidwasourmother.Iwantedtobemad,butI

couldn’tsayIblamedherentirely.Itcouldhavebeenthewaythewomanwasdressed.Bigblackshades.Scarftiedaroundherhead.Overthescarf,abighattilteddown,thekindPaworewithasuit.Apairofman’spants.

Fernclungtome.Cecilelookedmorelikeasecretagentthanamother.ButIknewshewasCecile.Iknewshewasourmother.

“Areyou…”—thestewardessunfurledthecrumpledslipofpaper—“CecileJohnson?”Shepausedheavilybetweenthefirstandlastnames.“Areyouthesecoloredgirls’momma?”

Cecilelookedatus,thenatthestewardess.“I’mCecileJohnson.These”—shemotionedtous—“aremine.”

Thatwasallthestewardessneededtohear.Shedroppedtheslipofpaperonthefloor,handedusover,andfledawayonherwobblyhighheels.

Ceciledidn’tbothertograbanyofourbags.Shesaid,“Comeon,”tooktwowidesteps,andwecame.ThegapbetweenCecileandusspreadwiderandwider.Vonettaspedupbutwasannoyedthatshehadto.FerncouldonlygosofastwithherbaginonehandandMissPattyCakeintheother.AndIwasn’tgoinganywherewithoutVonettaorFern,soIsloweddown.

Cecilefinallyturnedasshegottotheglassdoorsandlookedtoseewherewewere.Whenwecaughtup,shesaid,“Y’allhavetomoveifyou’regoingtobewithme.”

“Fernneedshelp,”Itoldher.ThenFernsaid,“Idonot,”andVonettasaid,“Ineedhelp.”

Cecile’sfacehadnoexpression.Sheswoopeddown,grabbedFern’sbaghandle,andsaid,“Y’allkeepup.”Shestartedwalking,thesamewidestepsasbefore.

ItookFern’shandandweallfollowed.Thegapwasn’taswideaswhenwe’dfirststartedout,buttherewasdistancebetweenCecileandmysistersandme.Mobseasilythreadedthroughandaroundus.Youcouldn’tseeweweretogether.

TherewassomethinguncommonaboutCecile.Eyesglommedontoher.Tall,darkbrownwomaninman’spantswhosefacewashalfhiddenbyascarf,hat,andbigdarkshades.Shewaslikeacoloredmoviestar.Tall,mysterious,andontherun.MataHariintheairport.Exceptthereweren’tanycamerasorspiesfollowingthecolored,broad-shoulderedMataHari.Onlythreegirlstrailingherfromaslightdistance.

Wefollowedheroutside,wheregreenandwhitecabslinedup.Insteadofgoingtothefirstcabintheline,Cecileduckedherheadandsearchedevery

othercab.Itwasatthefourthcabthatshebentdownandrappedagainstthewindow.Thedriver,wearingablackberet,leanedover,nodded,unlockedthefrontdoor,andsaidsomethinglike“Zilla,”whichIguessedwasshortforCecileinacolored,Oaklandway.

Cecileopenedthebackdoor.“Comeon.”

Iasked,“Canweputourbagsinthe—”

“Girl,willyougetinthiscar?”

VonettaandFernstiffened.BigMacouldbehard.Papadidn’tplayaround.Butnoonetalkedtomelikethat.ItwasjustasBigMahadsaid.Wewereinaboilingpotoftroublecooking.Still,therewasnotimetosoothemypride.IhadtomakeeverythingallrightforVonettaandFernsothey’dfallinline.Igotinfirstwithmybag,pullingFerninwithmewhilesheheldontoMissPattyCake,andthenVonettagotinwithherbag.

Cecileandthecabdriverlitupcigarettesaswedroveon.AtleastPapadoesn’tsmokehisViceroysintheWildcat.Vonettacoughed,andFernlookedgreen.Ididn’tbothertoaskwhatIcouldandcouldnotdo.Icrankeddownmywindowtolettheairin.

Wewerequiet.Ridingalong.GazingoutthewindowsatOaklandandstealinglooksatCecile.BeforeIcouldgetathoughtgoingaboutCecileorOakland,thecabdriverletusoutnottoofarfromtheairport.

“Youliveneartheairport?”Vonettaasked.

Ceciledidn’tanswer.Shejustsaid,“Comeon.”

Aswewalked,shehiddeeperintoherhatandshades,likeshedidn’twantanyonetoseeherwithus.

Wassheashamedshehadthreegirlsshe’dleftbehindandhadtoexplain?Whoarethesegirls?Yours?Whydon’ttheylivewithyou?

Don’texpectnopityfromus.WewereaskedthesamequestionsinBrooklyn.Where’syourmother?Whydon’tshelivewithyou?Isittrueshedied?

CecileplacedFern’ssuitcaseonthebenchofabusstopandsatdown.

“Whyarewetakingthebus?”Vonettaasked.“Whydidn’tthecabtakeus?”

IshushedVonettajusttokeepCecilefromsayingsomethingmean.

BymyTimex,thebuscameinfourminutes.Cecilemadeusgetonfirstandsaid,“Goallthewaytothebackandsitdown.”Whenwefoundseats,

Cecilewasstillwiththebusdriver,arguingwithhim.“Tenandunderrideforfree,”shesaid.“Nowgivemefourtransfers.”

Ihadbeenelevenforagoodwhile,standingtall;butIsaidtoVonettaandFern,“Ifanyoneasks,I’mten.”

Vonettafoldedherarms.“Well,I’mstillnine.Iamnotgoingbacktoeight.”

Fernsaid,“I’mstayingseven.”

Ihushedthembothdown.Alottagooditdidifthebusdriverheardusgettingouragesstraight.Tellthetruth,itwasCecileIworriedabout,notthedriver.Wedidn’thavetostaywiththebusdriverforthenexttwenty-eightdays.WehadtostaywithCecile.

GreenStuccoHouse

BigMasaidCecilelivedonthestreet.Theparkbenchwasherbed.Shelivedinaholeinthewall.

Youcan’tsaystufflikethattoakidaskingabouthermotherwhenit’ssnowingoutsideorpouringdownraining.Youcan’tsay,“Yourmotherlivesonthestreet,inaholeinthewall,sleepingonparkbenchesnexttowinos.”

Ididn’tunderstandexpressionswhenIwassix.Thattheywerestringsofwordsspokensooften,thestringfellslack.“Yourmotherlivesonthestreet,inaholeinthewall,sleepingonparkbenchesnexttowinos”soundedexactlyasBigMasaidit.Whenyou’resix,youpictureyourmotherlivingonblackandgraytarfullofpotholes,brokenglass,skidmarks,andblackenedgum,allofthatoverrunbycars,buses,andtrucks.Yousqueezeyourbrainoneway,yourimaginationtheotherway,andseeyourmotherpeekingouttheholesofcrumblingabandonedbuildingstostaydrywhenitsnowedorrained.Youseeyourmothersleepingonsplinteryparkbenchesstainedwithpigeonpoopandasmelly,toothlesswinosleepingnexttoher.Whenyou’resix,youwonderwhyyourmotherwouldratherliveonthestreet,inaholeinthewall,andsleeponparkbenchesnexttowinosthanlivewithyou.

EventhoughI’dfinallyfiguredoutthesewereexpressionsandnottheplain,factualtruth,IexpectedCecileJohnsonto,attheveryleast,bebadoff.Tobeoneofthose“Negroeslivinginpoverty,”asthenewsoftenputit.IexpectedI’dhavetonudgeVonettaandFernintoknowingbetterwhentheyaskedforallthethingswehadathome,likeMr.Bubblebubblebath,extrahelpingsofchickenandham,orbananapuddingonSundays.

WhenCecileslowedherman-sizedsteps,toreoffherbighat,herscarf,andherdarkglasses,weknewwehadarrived.Wefollowedherintotheyardanddownthewalkway.Istaredathereightthickbraidsofunpressedhair,pencilsshovedintheplaitaboveherear.ThenIjoinedmysisters,takingintheshockofherhouseandyard.Theplacewhereshelived.

“Thisyourhouse?”Vonettawasthefirsttoputouramazementintowords.

Tobeginwith,thehousewascoveredinpeaksofhardgreenfrosting.Stucco,Cecilecalledit.Shesaidsheappliedthestuccoherself.Thegreen

pricklyhousewassurroundedbyadried-outbutneatlytrimmedlawn.Toonesideofthehousewasarectangularconcreteslabwitharoofoverit.Acarport,shesaid.Justnocar.Ontheotherside,ababypalmtreeslopedtowardthesun.Thatpalmtreewasasoutofplaceasthestucco.That’showIcouldbesureitwasCecile’shome,allright.

EventhoughCecilesaidthehousewashersandnottoworryabouthowshegotit,thatwasn’tenoughtosuitVonetta.

“BigMasaid—”

Ikickedherbeforeshecouldgofurther.SheknewbetterthantorepeatBigMa’swords;andifshedidn’t,thatkickshouldhavesmartedherintoknowingbetter.

WhetherCecileheardVonettastartingtoinsultherorifshesawmekickhersecondchild,shedidn’tleton.Shejustsaid,“Comeon,”andputthekeyinthedoor.

Wewalkedinsideandlookedaround.Iexpectedtoseewritingonthewalls.Wavy,coloredhippiewritingallover,sinceshewasfreetodowhatshewantedinherownhouse.Iexpectedtoreadstringsandstringsofwordstappedoutfromherpencilontothewalls.ButthewallsinCecile’shousewereclean,paintedayellowbeige,andhadnowriting.Still,flashesofmemorypoppedbeforeme.FlashesofCecilewritingonthewalls,andonboxes…Flashesofpaintsmells…Papapaintingoverherpencilmarks…Flashesofloud…PapaandCecile.Angrytalking.WhenI’daskedaboutit,UncleDarnellhadsaidthey’dfoughtoverCecilewritingonthewallsallthetime.

“Yourroom’sintheback.Bathroomacrossthehall.Thedaybedrollsout.Thatshouldbeenoughforally’all.”

Fernfoldedherarms,holdingMissPattyCakebyatuftofherpatchy,yellowhair.“Weneednight-beds.Wesleepatnight.”

IcouldtellCeciledidn’tknowwhethertobeannoyedoramused.Shelookedatallofuswonderingnotonlywhowewere,butwhatwewere.

Ferndidn’tnoticethescrutiny.Sheturnedtome.“Idon’tnapinthedaytime.I’minthesecondgrade.”

Nevertobeoutdone,Vonettasaid,“I’minthefourthgrade.”

Cecilesaid,“Ididn’taskforallthat.”

AsIexpected,Vonetta’sfeelingsgothurtbecauseshewasalwaysstickingherselfonstageforeveryonetoseeher.Still,Vonettahadn’tbeenkickedenough.Shewhirledaroundinthelivingroomlikeadance-recitalfairy.

Whirledaroundonherheels—takinginthecleanwalls,thecurtains,abeat-upsofa,afewstacksofbooks,andnotmuchelse—landed,andsaid,“Where’stheTVandeverything?”

Vonettawastoofarfrommetonudgeorkick.

CeciledroppedFern’sbagonthefloorandstartedmuttering,“Ididn’tsendforyou.Didn’twantyouinthefirstplace.ShouldhavegonetoMexicotogetridofyouwhenIhadthechance.”

Itdidn’tseemlikeshewastalkingtous.Shedidn’tevenlookatVonetta.OrFernandme.Shekepttalking,mutteringaboutMexico,throwingherMataHaridisguiseonthebeat-upsofa.

Ourmotherworepencilsinherhair,dressedlikeasecretagent,hadastickly,pricklyhouse,apalmtreewhennooneelsehadone,andclean,paintedwallsinsteadofthewritingIremembered.NowIgotwhyourmotherranaway.Ourmotherwascrazy.

“Comeon,”Isaid.“Let’sseetheroom.Putourstuffaway.”

VonettaandFernraceddownthehall,pushingtobefirst.Cecileyelledafterthem,buttheyweretooexcitedtohearher.

Icameinafterthem.Abedwithabrassheadboardandarmrails,abluecover.Adresser.Agooseneckedfloorlampwithaglassbowlintheshapeofahalf-moon.Itwasmorefurniturethanshehadinthelivingroom.

“Wecan’tallfitonthisonebed,”Vonettasaid.

Iraisedupthebluecoverandfoundtheotherbedunderneath.

“Comeon.Helpmepullitout.”

Wealllatchedonandpulled.Thebedrolledoutintoastairstepofonebedbelowandanotherabove.

Isaid,“Sheshouldhavehelpedus.”

“Surelyshouldhave,”Fernsaid.

“Isleepontop,”Vonettacalled.

“No,Isleepontop.”

FerndidherbestRockytheFlyingSquirrelleap,armsoutstretchedtobellyontothebed.Vonettafollowed,andtheywrappedintowrestling.Iletthem.Theyhadn’thadagoodfightallday.AftersixandahalfhoursontheplaneandkeepingupwithCecile,Ifiguredtheycouldusetherecreation.

Theytookturnsgettingthebestofeachother.Butjustbeforecryingtime

setin,Ipulledoneofftheotherandsaid,“Youbothsleepontop.There’senoughroom.”

“Whydoyougetabedalltoyourself?”Vonettacried.“You’renotthatbigthatyouneedabedalltoyourself.”

Iwasbigenoughtogiveupafullviewoftheworldonthe727andbigenoughtooutsmartmysistersateveryturn.

“Youcancomedownherewithme,”Isaid,scootingoversoIwasn’tclaimingthewholebed.“Idon’tcare.”

“I’mstayingontop,”Vonettasaid.

“Metoo.”

Welookedaroundinsilenceatthewalls,thedresser.Thegooseneckedfloorlampwithitshalf-moonglassbowl.Itcertainlywasn’tmuch.

Vonettawantedtosaysomething.Shehadthatlook.

“Spititout,Vonetta,”Isaid.

“Yeah,spitit,”Fernsaid.

VonettacuthereyestowardFern.Tome,shesaid,“Delphine.WhatwegottodowithMexico?”

ThatonehadalsothrownmewhenCecilesaidit:ShouldhavegonetoMexicotogetridofyouwhenIhadthechance.Ididn’trightfullyknowwhatthatmeant,butIwasallmysistershad,soIsaid,“That’swherewomengowhodon’twanttheirbabies.”

“ButwhyMexico?”

“AndnotQueens?”Fernasked.

“BecauseQueensistooclose,”IsaidasifIknew.ThenIadded,showingallofmyageandwisdom,“TheybuybabiesdowninMexicoforrichpeople.”

Theybothsaid,“Oh.”

Ididn’twanttosayBigMawasright.Cecilewasnokindofmother.Ceciledidn’twantus.Cecilewascrazy.Ididn’thaveto.

MeanLadyMing

Westoodasone,lookingupather.Meinthefront,VonettaandFernatmysides.Shewastallandbroadshouldered,wherePawasjusttall.AshungryasIwas,allIcouldthinkwasthattheymadeyoudancewithaboyinthesixthgrade.ThatIwouldneverlookrightdancingwithaboy,andforthatIhadCeciletothank.

Ispokefirst:“We’rehungry.”

Asusual,mysisters’voicesfollowedontopofmine.

Vonetta:“What’sforsupper?”

ThenFern:“Hungry.Hungry.”Sherubbedherbelly.

Wemadeapicture.Uslookingupatherandherlookingdownatus.Intheanimalkingdomthemotherbirdbringsbackallshe’sgatheredforthedayanddropsitintotheopenmouthsofeachbirdsquawkingtobefed.Cecilelookedatuslikeitdidn’toccurtoherthatwewouldbehungryandshe’dhavetodowhatmothersdo:feedtheiryoung.I’mnoBigMainthekitchen,butIwouldhaveopenedacanofbeansandfriedupsomefranks.Icanbakeachickenandboilpotatoes.Iwouldhaveneverletmylong-gonedaughterstravelnearlythreethousandmileswithoutturningonthestove.

Shesaid,“Whatyouwantfromme?”

“Supper,”Ianswered.“It’spasteighto’clock.Wehaven’thadrealfoodsincebreakfast.”

“WithBigMa.”

“AndPapa.”

Ikeptgoing.“Thatwas”—Iglancedatmywrist—“ninehoursandtwelveminutesago.”

Vonettanext:“Airlinefooddon’tcount.”

Fernlast:“Surelydon’t.”

Shewasstilllookingdownatusasifwe’dthrownamonkeywrenchintoherquietTuesdayevening.Thenshespoke.“Where’sthemoneyyourfathergaveyou?”

Icrossedmyarms.Therewasnowayshewasgettingourmoney.“Thatmoney’sforDisneyland,”Itoldher.

“Togoonalltherides.”

“AndmeetTinkerBell.”

ThiswasthefirsttimeweheardCecilelaugh,andshelaughedlikethecrazymothershewasturningouttobe.“IsTinkerBellgoingtofeedyou?”Shewasstilllaughing.

Wedidn’tthinkshewasfunny.Wesaidnothingratherthantalkbackandgetslapped.

“Look,”shesaid,“ifyouwanttoeat,handoverthemoney.”

Istaredherdown—somethingI’dnevertrywithBigMa.Ceciledidn’tseemtocare.Shesaid,“Fine.Igotplentyofairsandwicheshere.Goonbacktotheroom,openyourmouths,andcatchone.”

Thestaredownendedrightthere.Iunlacedmyrighttennisshoe,wriggledmyfootout,andremovedthemoundoftensandtwentiesPahadgivenme.Ceciledidn’tcarethatthemoneyhadbeenbakingundermyfootsincewe’dleftBrooklyn.Shetookthemoney,unfoldedandcountedthebills,thenstuffedtheminherpantspocket,exceptforaten-dollarbill,whichsheheldouttome.

“Go’roundthecornertoMing’s.Orderalargeshrimplomein…”—shecountedourheadsasifshedidn’tknowhowmanyofusshe’dhad—“foureggrolls,andabigbottleofPepsi.”

VonettaandFernsquealedfortheshrimpandPepsi,forgettingthatthiswaswrong.Ourmothershouldhavecookedrealfoodforus—attheveryleastbakedachicken.Madefranksandbeans.

“Fruitpunch,”Isaid.“BigMadon’tallowustohavestrongdrinks.”

Cecileletoutasinglewhoopofalaugh.VonettaandFernweretooexcitedabouthavingtakeouttoseethatourmotherwascrazy.

Isaid,“WehavetocallPa.Lethimknowwearrived.”

Theychimedin.

“Safeandsound.”

“Ontheground.”

Cecilesaid,“Phone’snexttoMing’s.”

“Youmeanyoudon’thaveaphone?”Vonettaasked.

Cecilesaid,“Idon’thavenoonetocall,andIdon’twantnoonecallingme.”

WhetherCecilehadaphonewasnotmymainworry.“WehavetogooutaftereighttocallPaandgetthefood?Aren’tyoucomingwithus?”

“Ming’sisacoupleblocksdownMagnolia,aroundthecorner.”Shepointedthedirection.“Phonebooth’srightthere.”

Whenwewerebarelyoutthedoor,sheadded,“AndtellMingtogiveyoufourplates,fourforks,fournapkins,andfourpapercups.Nosensedirtyingdishes.Andyou’renotcominginsidemykitchen!”

Wealllookedatoneanotherandthoughtthesamething:crazy.

IledthewayinthedirectionCecilepointed.Downthewalk,pasttheslumpingpalmtree,andmadearightturn.VonettaandFernasusualnippedtheheelsofmytennisshoes.

Itwasn’tdarkatall,butitwasn’thighdaylight,either.Kidsofallagesstillranaroundplayinginyardsandridingbikesonthestreet.Ibetkidsranaroundandplayedouthereallyearlongandnotonlyinthesummer.WeusuallywenttothesummercampattheYordrovedowntoAlabamainPapa’sWildcat.

Wecameuponsomekidsplayingfreezetag.Theyjumpedfromlivelywigglewormstofrozenstatuesjustaswenearedtheiryard.Wefeltthesmirksofthegapingstatuesonus.Vonettasmiled,welcomingtheirinterestinus.Shewasscoutingoutnewfriendstobewithforthenexttwenty-eightdays.Iletherlagasteportwobehindtowinkandsmileatthem.Youcan’tstopVonettafromchasingafterfriends.

Ikeptwalking,Fernstickingclosetome.Vonettaskippeduntilshecaughtup.

Onethingwasforsure.TheseblocksmighthavebeenlongliketheblocksonHerkimerStreet,butwewerefarfromBrooklyn.Ididn’tknowwhereanyofthesestreetsled,butIwalkeddownMagnolialikeIknewwhereIwasgoing.

Icouldn’thelpbutnoticethatnotoneyardhadapalmtree.Notone.Orstucco.Notonehousewaspaintedthatcrazygreencolor.Iwasthinkingthiswhenbehinduscreptarumblingagainstconcrete,likeabarrelrolling,therollingbrokenbythecracksinthesidewalk.Iturned.

Avoiceyelled,“Gangway!”

Wetriedtojumpaside,butthethreeofusjumpingalltogetheronlygotussofar.

Aboyontopofawoodenboard—thisflyingTwithtricyclewheelsintheback—rumbledbyandmanagedtoclipmegood.

“Hey!Watchout!”Icalledafterhim,shakingmyfist.

HeonlystoppedatthecornertopickuphisflyingT,carryitacrossthestreet,andlayitbackdownonthesidewalk.“Sorry!”heyelledwithoutturningaround.Thenhegaveitarunningpushandjumpedonit,eventuallylyingstomachdown,hisarmsoutstretchedasheheldontobothendsoftheT.

“Whatwasthat?”Vonettaasked.

“Somestupidboy,”Isaid.“Comeon,y’all.”

IhadtopullVonetta’schinawayfromthedirectionoftheboyontheflyingT.Shekeptlookingevenafterhewaslonggone.

Ming’swaswhereCecilesaiditwas.Aroundthecornerandacoupleblocksdown.Therewasabigsign,MING’S,andunderneathit,redneoncharactersthatlookedlikefightingmenwavingswords.ThetelephoneboothwasalsowhereCecilesaiditwouldbe,rightnexttoMing’s.IplannedoncallingPabeforegettingthefood,buttheboothwasalreadyoccupiedbyalight-skinnedguywithabig,floppyAfro.Hewasturnedsideways,butIcouldseehisprofile,hisbeakishnose.Thewayhepushedhisheadthiswayandthat,suspiciously,whilehetalked.

Westoodwithourarmsfolded,waitingforhimtofinish.Helookedlikeafugitivefromjustice.IcouldspotonewhenIsawone.Iloveagoodcrimestory,especiallyTheF.B.I.Crimeshowscomeonlate,andIsneaktocatchwhateverBigMafallsasleepwatching.That’showthisguylooked.Likehewascallinghismatoseeifthecoastwascleartocomehomewithoutthemoborthecoppersonhistail.

Hesawusstandingwithourarmsfoldedandturnedhisbacktous.Igotit.Hehadalotofdimesandplannedtouseeachone.

WewentinsideMing’s.Wewerebarelyintherestaurant,whichwasn’tarestaurant,justacounterwithakitchenonthefarsideandtwosmalltableswithbenchesonourside.TheChineseladybehindthecountersaid,“Nofreeeggrolls.Nomorefreeeggrolls.”Shewavedherhandslike“Shoo,straycat.”

Ididn’tknowhowtoanswer.Ididn’taskforanyfreeeggrolls.ButweweretheonlyonesinsideMing’s,andshewasstaringstraightatme.

Vonettasaid,“Wedon’twantfreeeggrolls.”

Fernpipedin,“WewantshrimplomeinandPepsi.”

Vonettasaid,“Andfourplates,fourforks,fournapkins,andfourcups.”

Fern:“Andfoureggrolls.”

Vonetta:“Allformoney.Notforfree.”

FinallyIsaid,“It’stakeout.Togo.”

Iuncurledtheten-dollarbilltoshowher.UsuallyIamJohnny-on-the-spot,speakingupformysistersandme.ButthistimeIwentblankfornoreasonIcouldthinkof.ItwasnicetohaveVonettaandFernjumprightin.

TheladyshoutedinChinesetothebackofthekitchen.Shesoundedevenmeanerthanwhenshe’dsaid“Nofreeeggrolls.”IdecidedthatjustlikeCecilewascrazy,theChineseladywasmean.MeanLadyMing.

Shenoddedtousandsaid,“Okay.Sit.”

Wesatdownandwaited.MeanLadyMingkepttalking.“Everybodypoor.Everybodyhungry.Igivefreeeggroll.Feelsorry.Theneveryonecomeforfreeeggroll.”

ShemutteredonlikeCeciledidandlookedmeanandtiredlikeBigMalooksonwashboarddays.

WhileIwassittingwithmysisters,ImadeupmymindaboutOakland.TherewasnothingandnooneinallofOaklandtolike.IwouldgetonaplaneandflybacktoNewYorkifBigMashowedupwantinghergrandbabies.Iwouldn’teventellCecile“Thanksforthevisit.”

CollectCall

MeanLadyMinglaidadollarbillandafewcoinsonthecounter.Shehandedmethebrownpaperbagwiththefood,gaveVonettathebottleofPepsiandasmallbottleoffruitpunch,thengaveFernapaperbagwiththeplates,cups,forks,andnapkins.Iscoopedupallofthechange.Therewereatleasttwodimesincoins,whichwasenoughtocallhometoBrooklyncollect.

Whenwewentoutside,thebeakishguywiththefloppyAfrowasgone.WeallsqueezedintothephoneboothwithourbagsfromMing’s.

Ihookedmyfingerinsidetheholeforzeroonthephoneanddialed.TheoperatorcameonandIspokeup.

“Operator,IwanttomakeacollectcalltoLouisGaither.”Papa’spropernamefeltstrangecomingfrommymouth.Isaiditagaincleareralthoughtheoperatordidn’taskmeto.Instead,sheaskedformynameandIgaveittoher.“Delphine.”

There’snothingmumblyaboutthewayItalk.Idon’tswallowmylettersorrunthemtogether.Theoperatorstillasked,“CanIhavethatagain?”asifshedidn’tgetitthefirsttime.Ibrokeitintosyllables.“Del-FEEN.”

Shetoldmetostayontheline.WhileshewasringingPa,IrealizedmyTimexwasstillonBrooklyntimeandthatitwasaftereleveno’clock.Paroseinthedarkforworkandwasasleepbynine.Istartedtowindthestemwhentheoperatorcameback.“Goahead,Miss.”

“Hello?Hello?”BigMasoundedfaraway,butweheardherandweregladtohavereachedhome.

AlreadyVonettaandFernbeganpuppyyelpinginthebackgroundandgrabbingatthephone.Igavethemasternlooktomakethemquitit.BeforeIcouldsay“We’rehereinOaklandwithCecile,”BigMasaid,“Delphine!Doyouknowhowmuchthisphonecalliscostingyourfather?”

Therewasnotimetobetongue-tied.Ispokeup.“ButPapasaidcall.”

“Notcollect,Delphine.Where’dyougetathoughtlikethat?IknewyougirlsshouldhaveneverleftBrooklyn.YouflyouttoOaklandandloseyourlastounceofcommonsense.Letmespeaktoyourmother.”

“She’snothere,”Isaid.“She’sinherhouse.”

VonettaandFernwerestillshoutingtoBigMaandPapa,whohadtobeasleep.

“Andwhyareyououtinthestreetinthemiddleofthenight?I’mgoingtotellyourpaaboutthis.”BigMascoldedandfussed,runningupthephonebillevenhigher.Whenshewasdonetellingmeaboutmyselfandaboutthat“nokindofmother,Cecile,”Itoldherweweresafeandsaidgoodnight,andVonettaandFernholleredout,“Goodnight,BigMa!AndPa!”ThenIhungupthephone.

AtleastIhaddonewhatPahadtoldmetodo.Icalled.

Cecileguardedthekitchen’sswingingdoorandpointedustothelivingroom,whereshehadlaidoutawaxytableclothonthefloor.Wespreadoutaroundthecloth.Ceciletookovereverything,dumpingshrimplomeinandaneggrolloneachplate,tossingeveryoneaforkandanapkin.

Tomeshesaid,“Pourthedrinks,”whichIdid.Thiswasthemostmotheringwegot,ifyoudon’tcounthercomingtoclaimus.NotthatIwantedorneededanymothering.IwasjustthinkingaboutVonettaandFern.Theywereexpectingamother.Atleastahug.A“Lookathowy’allhavegrown.”Alookofsorrowandapleaforforgiveness.Iknewbetter.

AtleastthatwasonethingCecileandBigMahadincommon.BigMahadnoforgivenessforCecile,andCecilehadnoneedforit.

MeanLadyMinghadthrowninapairofchopsticks.VonettaandFerneyedthewoodensticksandformulatedideasaboutturningthemintohairpins,play-fightswords,andpickupsticks.Cecileendedallofthatwhenshebrokethesticksjoinedatthetop,rubbedthemagainsteachotherlikeshewaskindlingtwigsforacampfire,thenwrappednoodlesaroundthemandshovedthenoodles,shrimp,andsticksintohermouth.

Wewereallstaring.We’dneverseenanyoneeatingwithchopsticksotherthanonTV.We’dneverseencoloredpeopleeatingwiththem,andherewasourmothereatingwithchopsticksliketheChinesementhatIhadreadaboutwhoworkedontherailroads.Sheatehungrily,settingnotypeoftable-mannerexamplesforus,herdaughters.

Cecileknewoureyeswereonher.Withamouthfuloffoodshesaid,“Thoughty’allwerehungry.”

Wepickedupourforksandate.

Whenweweredone,Cecilegrabbedeverythingthathadn’tbeenused—soysauce,spicymustard,herfork,anextracupthatMeanLadyMinghad

thrownin.Shetoldustostayrighttherewhileshebroughteverythingintothekitchen.Sowestayedput.

Ithoughtshemightwanttotalktous.Findouthowweweredoinginschool.Whatwelikedanddidn’tlike.Ifweeverhadchickenpoxorourtonsilstakenout.WhileIthoughtaboutwhatI’dtellher,weheardaknockonthedoor.Thenanotherloudknock.Wejumpeduptolookthroughthecurtains,butCecilecameoutofthekitchen.

“Getbackintheroom.Get.”

Andwedid.ButIhadcaughtaglimpsethroughthecurtain.IhadalreadyseenthreepeopleindarkclotheswithAfros.

ForthePeople

WeweretrainedspiesbackinBrooklyn.Scrunchedtogether,pressingourearstothedoor,wall,orair,weusedhandsignalsandmouthedwordsinsteadofwhispered.IfnecessaryIcouldshushmysisterswithaglaretobottleuptheirloosegiggling.Youcan’tgiggleandbeaspy.

ItwasbypressingourearstotheairthatwehadheardPasay,“No,Ma.Theyneedtoknowher,andsheneedstoknowthem.They’reflyingtoOakland.That’sfinal.”IthadbeenallwecoulddonottoletonwhenPasatusdownthenextmorning.

Theknockonthedoor,Cecileorderingustohideinourroom,andherclearingawayallevidenceofuswerenotactionsofamother.Thesewereactionsofasecretagent.Orafugitivefromjustice.Someonewhodoesn’topenherdoorwideandwelcominglikeBigMadoeswhenthedoorbellrings.Hersweretheactionsofsomeonewhowearshats,scarves,andshadestokeepfrombeingrecognized.Kindofliketheguyinthephonebooth.Someoneobviouslyhidingout.

Onceagain,wefellintoourspyingpositions,anglingourselvesatthecrackeddoortosee,whilepressingourearsagainsttheair.FromtherewecouldseepiecesofthethreefigureswhoenteredCecile’shouse.Allworedarkcolors.Onehadonablackjacketandablackberet.Theothertwo,blackT-shirtsandblackberetsoverAfros.Westeadiedourheavy,excitedbreathingtohearwhatwecould.

Itwasn’tlongaftergreetingoneanotherthattheirtalkingturnedtoarguing.Itwastheirvoices,allthreeofthemagainsthers.Itsoundedlike:

“Seizethetime.”

“Forthepeople.”

“Thetimeisnow.”

Versusher:

“Me…”

“My…”

“No…”

“No…”

Theneachoneofthemfiringoff:

“Thepeople…”

“Thepeople…”

“Thepeople…”

Againsther:

“Myart.”

“Mywork.”

“Mytime.Mymaterials.Myprintingpress.”

“Me.My.No.No.”

IwassuretheywereBlackPanthers.Theywereonthenewsalotlately.ThePanthersonTVsaidtheywereincommunitiestoprotectpoorblackpeoplefromthepowerful;toprovidethingslikefood,clothing,andmedicalhelp;andtofightracism.Evenso,mostpeoplewereafraidofBlackPanthersbecausetheycarriedriflesandshouted“BlackPower.”FromwhatIcouldsee,thesethreedidn’thaverifles,andCeciledidn’tseemafraid.Justannoyedbecausetheywantedherthingsbutshedidn’twanttogivethem.BigMasaidGodcouldnothavemadeabeingmoreselfishthanCecile.Atleastshewaslikethatwitheveryone,notjustus.

Cecilesaid,“Paperisn’tfree.Inkisn’tfree.Myprintingpressisn’tfree.I’mnotfree.”

Oneofthemanswered,“Noneofusisfree,SisterInzilla.EldridgeCleaverisn’tfree.HueyNewtonisn’tfree.H.RapBrownisn’tfree.MuhammadAliisn’tfree.”

Iknewhemeanther,Cecile,whenhesaidInzilla.Ididn’tknowsomeofthoseothernames.OnlyHueyNewton,theBlackPantherleader,andMuhammadAli,whousedtobeCassiusClay.IguessedtheotherswereBlackPanthersorblackpeoplewhowereinprison.IknewAlihadrefusedtogotoVietnamandfightlikeUncleDarnellwasdoing.Istilldidn’tgetwhatanyofthathadtodowithCecile.

Anotheronesaid,“That’swhyeveryonemustcontributetothecause.”

Thethirdvoiceadded,“LikeHueysaid,‘Weshouldallcarrytheweight,andthosewhohaveextremeabilitieswillhavetocarryextremelyheavyloads.’”

Therewerewordsthrownbackandforth.Long,unfamiliarwordsending

intion,ism,andactic,withmoretalkabout“thepeople”throwninforgoodmeasure,likeBigMathrowingapinchofsaltintothecakebatter.

Theyweren’tjusttalking.ThethreeBlackPantherswererapping.Layingitdown.Tellingitlikeitis,liketalkingwastheirweapon.Theirwordsversusherwords.Hersfalling,theirsrising.Whenhervoicefellaslowasshewouldallowit,shestampedherfootandsaid,“Allright.Allright.Butyougottatakemykids.”Andshortlyafter,theyweregone.

Weretreatedfromthedoorandjumpedonthetopdaybed.Thiswasthenextpartafterthespymissions.Poolingtogetherwhatwe’dlearned.

Vonettaasked,“Isshegivingusaway?”

ThenFern:“Tothosepeople?”

Ishookmyheadno.“Shecouldn’texplainthattoPapa.”

“OrtoBigMa,”Fernsaid.

“Thenwhowerethosepeople?”Vonettaasked.

“Intheblackclothes.”

“Tellinghertocarrytheweight.”

“Talk,talk,talking,onandonandon,”Fernsaid.

“They’reBlackPanthers.They’reprobablywhoshe’srunningfrom.”

Vonettaasked,“WhoaretheBlackPanthers?”

“Youknow.LikeFrieda’sbrother.”ImadetheBlackPowersignwithmyfist.OnlyBigMaandIwatchthenews.BigMaenjoyshearingaboutallthetroublegoingonintheworld.Itisn’tthatsheactuallylikesit.Shejustneedstohearabouteverythingandtalkaboutit.SincePaworksalldayandistiredatnight,BigMagivesmeheropinionswhileIwashdishes.Younameit.PresidentLBJ.HoChiMinhinNorthVietnam.MartinLutherKing’sfuneral.BobbyKennedy’sfuneral.Theraceriots.Thesitins.ElizabethTaylor’snexthusband.TheBlackPanthers.EachholdsBigMa’sinterest.

“IthassomethingtodowithCecile’spaper,”Isaid.

“Andherink,”Vonettasaid.

“Andthepeople,”Fernsaid.

Wecouldn’timaginewhattiedallthreethingstogether.ThenVonettasuggested,“Maybetheywanthertowriteapoem.”

“Aboutthepeople,”Fernsaid.

“Usingherspecialinksandpapers,”Vonettasaid.

PahadtoldusCecilewrotepoems,butI’dalreadyknownthat.FlashesofCecilechantingwords,tappingarhythmwithherpencil,thenwriting.AndUncleDarnellhadsaidIwasalwaysthere,quiet,inthekitchenwhileshechanted,tapped,andwrote.I’dgetthoseflashingpictures.Butinpieces.

Vonettaasked,“Cantheymakeyouwritepoems?”ThenVonettafixedhervoicedeeplikeaman’s.“Youbetterwriteapoemaboutthepeople,orelse.”

FernandIlaughedather.Shelovedentertainingus.

“Theydon’tsendtheBlackPantherstoyourhousetomakeyouwriteapoem,”Isaid.

Vonetta’seyeslitupfoxbright.Shehadanidea.

“Cecileprintsupherownmoney.Howelsedoyouthinkshegotthishouse?Cecileisprintingherownmoneyinthekitchen.That’swhywecan’tgointhereandthat’swhyshedidn’tcookfriedchicken.”

“Or’nanapudding.”

Ishookmyhead.“Withallthemoneyshe’dhavetoprintuptobuythishouse,theFBIwouldhavetrackedherdownandthrownherinthepokey.”

“Thepokey!”ThatmadeFernlaugh.ThenVonettaandFernstarteddancingandsinging:“Youdothehokeypokeyandyouturnyourselfaround.That’swhatit’sallabout.”

GlassofWater

IfwewereathomewithPaandBigMa,wewouldhavebeenbathedandinbedanhourandfiveminutesago.Butweweren’tinBrooklyn.WewereinOaklandwithCecile.

IglancedatmytrustyTimex.Iwasn’tmadthatVonettahadgottentheTimexwiththepinkwristbandandcouldn’tholdontoit,whilemineisplainbrownandstillonmyarm.Mybrownleatherwristbandisjustfine.It’stheclockpartthatmattersanyway.Icancountonittokeepthingsrunningonschedule.

ItswaterprooffacetoldmewhatIneededtoknowatninethirty-fiveintheevening.ThatittookthreeminutesforwarmwaterandahandfulofTidesoappowdertomaketherightamountofsuds.Fifteenminuteswasenoughtimefortheday’sdirttofalltothebottomofthetub,whileVonettaandFernstyledbubblebeehivehairdosontheirheadsandbeardsoneachother.ButgivethemoneminutelongerandI’denduppullingFernoffofVonettaandmoppingupsopsofwatersplashedontothebathroomtiles.

AfterIgotmysistersin,out,dried,andlotioned,Itookmybath,settingmywatchontheporcelainedgetokeepaneyeonmyowntwelveminutesinthetub.Thewatchpartmighthavebeenwaterproof,buttheplainbrownleatherbanddidn’tcareforsoapandhotwater.Bath-watermadetheleatherhardandclammyagainstmyskin.Ialwaystookitoff.

OnlywhenIsatinthetubdidIwishmyTimexwasn’tsoreliableorthetickingsosteady.Oh,howIwishedtheminutehandwouldslowdownandgivemetimeforanice,longsoak.WishallIwanted,Icouldn’tleaveVonettaandFernalonetosortoutwho’dsleepatwhatendofthedaybed.ThreeextraminutesinthetubandI’dbesorry.Istucktotheschedule.

Wewereinoursummernighties.VonettaandFernlaysidebyside,theirelbowsproppeduponthehigherbed,whileIsatonthelowerbed.Fern’seyelidsgrewdroopy.Still,sheyawnedanddemandedstorytime.

IopenedPeterPan,oneofthebooksI’dcheckedoutforatwo-weekloanbeforewe’dleftBrooklyn.IhaditallworkedoutandcountedthepagesI’dreadeachnight,dividingthatbytwenty-eightdays.Ihadtwodollarsand

eightycentsinmydrawerathometopayforthelatefeesfortheremainingtwoweekswhenwereturnedtoBrooklyn.

ThisPeterPanwasbetterthanthePeterPancoloringbooksathome.Itwasarealbook,thickwithmorethanonehundredpagesofadventure.VonettaandFernweresoonunderthespellofPeterandWendyflyinglikefairies.BothVonettaandFerngaveoutthreepagessoonerthanIhadplanned.Iputmybookmark—acoasterfromtheairplane—intherightspotandpulledtheblanketovermysisters.

Asquietasaspy,IunbuckledmysuitcaseandtookoutmyborrowedcopyofIslandoftheBlueDolphins.Iturnedoffthegooseneckedfloorlampandsatinthehallway,wherelightbeamedfromthelivingroom.Cecilewasinherkitchendoingwhatevershedidinthere.

Ifellasleepwithmybookinmylap.Whatwokemewasathump.Throughclouded,sleepyeyes,ImadeoutthebackofFern’srufflednightie.HerlittleheelswereheadedtoCecile’skitchen.Ishookmyselfawakeandjumpedtomyfeet.AssureasIknewCecilewascrazyandunmotherly,IknewImuststopFern.

Itwastoolate.Iwasn’tfastenoughtocatchholdofFern’snightie.Cecilewasrightthere,guardingwhatevershewashidinginherkitchen.

Sleepyandsweetvoiced,Fernasked,“CanIhaveaglassofwater?”

PapacouldneverbringhimselftosaynotoFern.HeleftthattoBigMa,Vonetta,andme.ButCecilesaid,“Drankthewaterinthebathroom.”

“It’snasty,”Fernsaid.

“Thenyouain’tthirsty,littlegirl.”

“I’mnotLittleGirl.I’mFern.”

“Shedidn’tmean…”MymouthspedtoFern’srescue,butCecile’sraisedhandstoppedme.Igotthemessage,andsheloweredherstopsign.

“Let’sgetonethingstraight,LittleGirl.Noone’sgoinginmykitchen.”

It’shardtobelievethelasttimethey’dseeneachother,FernhadbeenaloafofbreadinCecile’sarms.ThatwashowUncleDarnelltoldittome.SomepiecesofitIevenremember.HowCecilehadnursedFern,burpedher,andplacedherinhercribbeforeleavingus.It’sfunnythatCecilehadatleastthoughttogiveFernalastdrink,butallthesameleftFernwantinghermilk.Nowtheystoodacrossfromeachother:CeciletoweringoverFernwithherarmscrossed,andFernlookingupatCecile.Fernballedbothfists,bangingthemagainsthersideslikesheusuallydidbeforeshejumpedonVonetta.

ItookoneofFern’sfistsinmyhandandeaseditflat.ThenIputonmy“talkingtowhitefolks”voiceandsaid,“Canyougetheraglassofcoldwater?”

I’musedtodoingwhat’shard.Likethreedays’worthofhomeworkinonenighttocatchupfrombeingoutofschoolsick.Likeforty-sixpush-upsinsixtysecondstowinabetwithaboy.LikestandingmeanmouthedoverVonettaandFernuntiltheyswallowatablespooneachofhardpinecoughsyrup.Butsaying“please”withoutactuallysayingittosomeoneyoudon’twanttosay“please”tointhefirstplacetopsthelistofhard.

WhenCecileraisedherhand,IpushedFernback,notknowingifsheraisedherhandonlytopointdownatFern.Ididn’tknowCecileyet.Ididn’tknowhowmeanorcrazyshewas.

Shesaid,“Stayoutthere.”Thenshebackedintothekitchenmuttering,“Didn’tasknoonetosendyouhere,noway.”

Whenthedoorhadswung,Iheardarustlebetweentheflashofopeningandclosing.Likefallleavesrustling.Ilookedupintimetoseewhitewingshangingfromaboveinthequickflashoftheopeneddoor.

Tothenormalkidsinmyclassroom,thatwouldhavelookedcrazy.Whitewingshanginginthekitchen.ButIrememberedstrangethingsthatgotmelaughedatinschool.ThingsaboutCecile.I’dbeendumbenoughtovolunteerfactsaboutmymotherforshow-and-tell.“Mymotherwritesoncerealboxesandonthewall,”I’dsaidproudlyinthesecondgrade.Andthis,thewhitewingshanginginherhouse,wasn’tstrangeatall.ItwashalfwaywhatI’dexpected.Iwouldhatetothinkshehadleftustoleadanormal,cookie-baking,porkchop–fryinglife.

Thesinkranfullforce.Iheardopeningandslamming.Metalbangingagainstthecountertopmaybe.Crackingandshaking.Therockcracklingoficeinametaltray.Moreopeningandslammingagain.Fernclungtomysideandtheninchedbehindme.

CecilecameoutholdingtheextrapapercupfromMeanLadyMing’s.SeeingFernhidingbehindme,shesaid,“It’stoolateforallofthat.Here.Takeit.”

Fernstayedput,soIwenttotakethecup.Cecilepulledback,spillingafewdropsatherfeet.

“LittleGirl,youbettertakethisifyouwantit.”

Fern’sfistsballedfrombehindhernightieandagainIreachedout,butCecileglared,like,Girl,Iwillknockyoudown.

FernsteppedfrombehindmeandtookthecupfromCecile’shand.“I’mnotLittleGirl.I’mFern.”

“Well,youbetterdrinkthiscupoficewater,LittleGirl.Everylastdrop.”

Ferndrankitalldownwithoutstopping.Probablytoproveshecould.ProbablytonotstandnearCecileanylongerthanshehadto.Thenshehandedmethecupwithice,andIreturnedittoCecile.

AsmanytimesasBigMasaidit,Ineverfullybelievedit.Thatnoone,notevenCecile,neededtohavetheirwaysobadlyorwassoselfish.ThatshecouldleavePa,Vonetta,Fern,andmeoversomethingassmallandsillyasaname.ThatCecileleftbecausePawouldn’tletherpickoutFern’sname.ButIsawandhearditwithmyownearsandeyes.SherefusedtocallFernbyhername,andthatmadeBigMarightaboutCecile.

Inseparable

“Ifyougirlswantbreakfast,go’ndowntothePeople’sCenter.”

Wesaidalltogether,“ThePeople’sCenter?”

WithoutskippingabeatCecilesaid,“NexttothelibraryonOrchard.Justkeepwalkingtillyouseekidsandoldpeoplelinedup.”

“You’renotgoingtotakeus?”Ididn’tmeanittowormoutasaquestionandwasmadatmyselfforaskinginsteadofstating.

“Youdon’tneedmetowalkdownthestreet.Theparkisontheotherside.Y’allcanrunaroundafterbreakfastorstayfortheprogramattheCenter.Itdon’tmakemenodifference.”

Cecilepointedafountainpenatme.Twomorepenswerestuckinherhair.“Youtheoldest.Youcanreadstreetsigns.”

Vonetta,indignant,said,“Icanreadstreetsignstoo.”

“Metoo.”

Insteadofsaying“Ididn’taskforallofthat”likeIexpected,Cecilesmackedherpalmagainstherthighandsaid,“Thenthatsettlesit.Stepoutthisdoor,crossthestreet,keepgoingablocktillyougettoOrchard.Ifyoucanread,youcan’tmisstheOin‘Orchard.’Turnleft.Keepwalkingtillyouseethelibrary.Center’sonthesameblock.Can’tmissit.Nothingbutblackfolksinblackclothesrappingrevolutionandalineofhungryblackkids.”

Thenshecutherselfofffromus,tappedherfountainpen,andrepeated,“Blackfolks,inblackclothes,rappingrevolution.”

WehadBlackPanthersinBrooklyn.BlackPantherposterswithSEIZETHETIMEstapledontotelephonepoles.WejustneverhadanyBlackPanthersmarchingdownHerkimerStreet,knockingonourdoordemandingthatwegivetothecauseorcallingussomekindofSisternamewehadneverheardof.

MysistersandIdidn’tmakeamovetowardthedoor.Wecouldn’tbelieveourears.Ourcrazymotherwassendingusoutsidetofindmilitantstrangersifwewantedtoeat.

Shesaid,“Wait.”Ihopedshehadchangedhermindaboutusgoingtothe

Center.Shewentintothekitchenandcameoutwithacardboardbox,alittlesmallerthantheshoeboxforPapa’sworkboots.“Here,”shesaid.“TakethistotheCenter.GiveittothePanthers.Tellthemit’sfromInzilla.”That’swhatIthoughtshesaid.Inzilla.

Sheputtheboxinmyhands.

“WhodoI—”

“Justfindablackberet.Anyblackberetwilldo.MakesureyoutellthemIgavetothecause.Youtellthem,‘Don’tcomeknockingonmydooraskingformymaterials.’”

IknewIwouldn’tbetellingnoBlackPantherswhatCecilesaid.Thatshegavetothecauseandnottocomeknockingonherdoorforherstuff.Ijusttooktheboxandnodded,becausethat’showyoutreatcrazypeople.Younodandcountdowntwenty-sevendaysforcrazytocometoanend.

VonettaandFernlookedtomeforwhattodonext,andCecilenoticedthis.TherewasnolipsmilefromCecile,buthereyesfounditfunnythattheyalwayslookedtomefirst.

“Comeon,”Isaid.“Let’sgogetbreakfast.”

Wewereabouttoleave,butFernstoppedcold.Hereyesbuggedoutandsheballedherfists.“Wait!Wait!”

VonettaandIwaitedwhilesheranintothebackroom,herstepsallbuffalostomps.Ididn’tmindFern’sstompingbecauseitannoyedCecilethatherhousehadbeeninvadedbyourmouths,wants,andfeet.Itservedherright.

BothVonettaandIknewwhyFernranbacktotheroom.We’dbeenseeingthisgoonforyears.FernreturnedwithMissPattyCakeintow.Fromherlookofdisgust,IbelievedCecilewouldhavespatonherownfloorifshewouldn’thavehadtocleanitup.

“Aren’tyoutoobigtobedraggingthatthingwithyou?”

AsfarasIwasconcerned,CecilehadnothingtosayaboutFernandMissPattyCake.MissPattyCakewastherewhenCecilewasn’t.

NowIsmiled.I’dunderstoodthatFernandMissPattyCakewerelikethatNatKingColesong“Unforgettable.”WhenI’dfirstheardhissatinysmoothvoicesing“Likeasongoflovethatclingstome,”IknewMissPattyCakewaslikethatsongoflovetoFern.

CecilethoughtFernwouldbuckleunderaseven-year-old’sshame.WhenFerndidn’tanswer,sheaskedagain,“Aren’tyoutoobigforallathat?”

Fernshookfourbraidsandbarrettesandsaid,“No,”takingdelightinansweringnoforno’ssake.No,becauseCeciledidn’thaveahugandakissthatFernexpected.No,becauseCeciledidn’tleapupandgetthatcoldglassofwater.No,becauseCecilehadyettocallFern,Fern.

Vonettagroaned.Shehadfoughtenoughname-callersonbehalfofMissPattyCake.Ihadfoughtmysharetoo,butsowhat.ItwasforFernandherdoll.Exceptforgoingtoschoolandchurch,FernandMissPattyCakehadbeeninseparableforaslongasFernoranyoneelsecouldremember.

Cecileshooklikewehadgivenherthewillies.Sheprobablyaskedherself,Whoarethesekids?

Therewasnouseinstandingaroundforalongfarewellandalistofdosanddon’ts.Weweren’tleavingBigMa.WewereleavingCecilewithherkitchenandherpalmtree.AndjustasIfeltwehadgottenthelastlickbyturningandgoing,Cecilesaid,“Don’tkillyourselftogetbackhere.Stayouttillsundown.”

Wewalkedalongthestreet,amovingtriangle.Meinthefront.VonettaandFernwithMissPattyCakebehindmeatbothsides.

“Iwannagohome.”

“Metoo.”

Iknewwhichhometheymeant.Isaid,“We’regoingbackhomeintwenty-sevendays.”

“Let’scallPapa,”Vonettasaid.

“AndBigMa.”

Isaid,“Notyet.BigMahasn’tgottenoverthecollectcallfromyesterday.Wegottagetupenoughdimestomakearealcallacrossthecountry.”

Vonettasaid,“WeshouldcallPapa.Tellhimshe’smean.”

“Andshedon’twantus.”

“Andshewon’tcookorletusinthekitchen.”

“Togetacoldglassofwater.”

“Inherkitchen.”

“Inherhouse.”

Isaid,“Wewill.Justnotyet.”

Vonettasaid,“IfBigMaknew…”

“AndPapa.”

“They’dbeherelightningquicktogetus.”

“Yeah.Quicklikelightning.”

Isaid,“We’llneedalotofdimes.”

BreakfastProgram

WefoundtheCenterlikeCecilesaidwewould.Alineofhungrykidswaitedforbreakfast,excepttheyweren’tallblack.TherewereolderteensinmostlyblackclothesandAfrospostedlikesoldiersguardingtheoutside.Thathardlyseemednecessarywhenawhite-and-blackpolicecarcircledaroundtheblock.

Vonettawasalreadysmilingandshowinganyonewho’dlookherwaythatshewasworthasmileback.Shehadpickedoutthreegirlswholookedalikeenoughtobesisters,eachoneasthickasmysistersandIwerelanky.Theyworewhitebootsanddaisydresseswithflaredsleeves.Theymightaswellhavebeengoingtoago-go,nottoafreebreakfast.

IkeptFernnear,myarmscrossedbeforeme.IwasheretomakesuremysistersandIatebreakfast,andtostayoutofCecile’shair.IfVonettawantedtogetherfeelingshurtchasingaftersmilesandgo-goboots,thatwasonher.

ThePanthersopenedthedoorsandwetrailedinside,thethreeofusstickingclosetogether.Asweentered,IdidwhatCecilesaid.IhandedtheboxtothefirstBlackPantherIsawandsaid,“ThisisfromCecile.”Iwasn’tabouttocallhersomenameIdidn’tknowortellthemshesaidtoleaveheralone.TheBlackPantherguyopenedthebox.Hetookoutasheetfromastackofpaper—aflyerwithacrouchingblackpantherandsomewritingonit—andheldituptoexamineit.Henodded,said,“Thankyou,Sister,”andtooktheboxwithhim.

Thethreegirlsintheflowerdresseswerestandingonlinelookingatus.Vonettatriedtosteermeovertothem,butIdidn’twanttogochasingafterthem.Theirdresseslookedsoniceandnew.Weworeshortsandsuntops,althoughOaklandwasn’tassunnyaswe’dimaginedCaliforniawouldbe.IfoundusaplaceonlinebehindPuertoRicanswhodidn’tlookPuertoRicanbutwhospokeSpanish.ThenIrememberedourstudyofthefiftystates.TheywereprobablyMexicans.

IthoughtBlackPantherswouldonlylookoutforblackpeople,buttherewerethetwoMexicans,alittlewhiteboy,andaboywholookedbothblackandChinese.Everyoneelsewasblack.I’dneverseentheBlackPanthersmakingbreakfastonthenews.Butthen,beatingeggsnevermakestheeveningnews.

Aswestoodonline,aguywhoshouldhavekeptwalkingstoppedrightinfrontofus.HecrossedhisarmsandlookeddownatFern.

Irecognizedthebeakishnoseonthatnarrowface.Hewastheoneinthetelephoneboothwhohadturnedhisbacktous,likehedidn’twanttobeseen.ForallIknew,hewasoneofthoseintheblackberetsandAfroswho’dcomeknockingonCecile’sdoorlastnight.NowhestoodacrossfromFern,hislegsapartandhisarmsfolded.

“Whatiswrongwiththispicture,”hestatedinsteadofasked.Heknewtheanswer,allright.Iwasprettygoodatreadingfaces.

Hedidn’thavealeatherjacket,buthewasoneofthem.OnhisblackT-shirtwasadeadwhitepigwithfliesbuzzingarounditandthewordsOFFTHEPIGinwhiteletters.HishairwasabiglooseAfrobecauseitwasalittlestringy.StringylikeLucyRaleigh’s,whobraggedaboutbeingpartChickasawinthefourthgradebutbyfifthgradewassinging“I’mBlackandI’mProud”louderthanloudbecauseJamesBrown’ssonghadmadeitthethingtodo.

Thestringy-Afro-wearingbeakmanwasn’tPapa-grownorCecile-grown.Probablyallofnineteenortwenty,buthethoughthewassomething.Hewasputtingonashowforalltheotherblackberetwearers.

Whennoneofusspoke,hepointedandaskedagainthequestionwhoseanswerhealreadyknew.“Whatiswrongwiththispicture?”

Fernpointedbackathimandsaid,“Idon’tknow.What’swrongwiththispicture?”

TheotherBlackPantherslaughedandtoldFern,“That’sright,Li’lSis.Don’ttakenothingfromnoone.”Andtheyslappedpalmsandsaidstufflike“TheseareSisterInzilla’s,allright.Lookatthem.”

BeakMantriedtostanduptohishumiliation.Shakeitoff.

“Li’lSis,areyouawhitegirlorablackgirl?”

Fernsaid,“I’macoloredgirl.”

Hedidn’tlikethesoundof“coloredgirl.”Hesaid,“Blackgirl.”

Fernsaid,“Colored.”

“Blackgirl.”

VonettaandIthrewour“colored”ontopofFern’slikewewereringtossingatConeyIsland.ThiswasbiggerthanSayitloud,I’mBlackandI’mproud.Ifoneofussaid“colored,”weallsaid“colored.”Unlesswewerefightingamongourselves.

“Allright,then.‘Cullid’girls,”BigBeaksaid,“whyareyoucarryingthatself-hatredaroundinyourarms?”

AnolderteenagegirlinaCalStateT-shirtsaid,“Kelvin,you’recrazy.Leavethosecoloredgirlsalone.”

Big-beaked,stringy-hairedKelvinlookedpleasedwithhimself.

Isaid,“That’snotself-hatred.That’sherdoll.”

“Yeah.Adollbaby.”

“MissPattyCake.”

InspiteoftheCalStategirlandtheotherBlackPantherssayingleavethosegirlsalone,hewenton.

“Areyoureyesbluelikehers?Isyourhairblondlikehers?Isyourskinwhitelikehers?”

Thegirlsaidagain,“CrazyKelvin,stopit.Juststopit.”

CrazyKelvinturnedtoaladywhoworeanAfrican-printdressandamatchingclothwrappedaroundherhead.“SisterMukumbu.Our‘colored’girlshereneedsomereeducation.”Andhewalkedaway,oneofthosepimpwalks,likeHowyoulikemenow?

SisterMukumbujustsmiledathimlikeshedidn’ttakeCrazyKelvinseriously.SheandtheCalStategirlexchangedalook.

TheCalStategirlturnedtowardmeandsaid,“Don’tmindCrazyKelvin.That’swhatwecallhim.He’salittlewild.”

Forallofthat,theeggswerecold,butweatethem,alongwiththebutteredtoastandorangeslices.ItwasbetterthaneatingairsandwichesatCecile’s.

FernhuggedMissPattyCakebutrefrainedfromputtingapieceoftoasttoherdoll’slipslikeshewouldhavedoneathome.Still,theotherkidslaughedatherandcalledherWhiteBabyLoverandBigBaby,exceptfortheboywholookedbothcoloredandChinese.Itoldthemtoshutup.Andthatwentforthethreesistersinflowerdresses.Eventhetallestsister.NoonecouldcallFernWhiteBabyLovereventhoughMissPattyCakewasawhitebabyandFernlovedher.NoonecouldcallFernaBigBabybutVonettaandme.Vonettaatehertoastsilently.WehadcostVonettahersummerfriendswiththewhitego-gobootsandhappeningdresses.ButIdidn’tcare.FerncouldloveMissPattyCakeallshewanted.WecouldcallourselvesVanillaWafers,ChocolateChips,orOreoCookiesforallIcaredaboutblackgirlsandcoloredgirls.

AndeventhoughCeciledidn’tbothertobringushereorstickupforFern,theBlackPanthershadslappedpalmsandsaid,“ThoseareSisterInzilla’s,allright.”

EventheEarthIsaRevolutionary

Oncebreakfastwasover,mostofthekidsleft,exceptforadozenwhostayedbehind,includingus.Itoldmysisterswemightaswellstickaroundforthesummercampprogram.Cecilehadmadeitclearshedidn’twanttoseeusanytimesoon,sowetoldSisterMukumbuournamesandfollowedherandSisterPat,theyoungwomanintheCalStateT-shirt,intoaclassroom.

IfeltsillyandwrongcallingagrownpersonBrotherSo-and-SoorSisterSuch-and-Such,butthankstoCecile,wenowhadbrothersandsisterswehadneverbeforelaideyeson.Sure,theysaid“brutha”and“sistah”inBrooklyn,buthereitwasmoreofatitleandnotlikeyouweresaying“him”or“her.”AsfarasIcouldtell,noneofthegrownpeopleattheCenterwentbyMr.,Mrs.,orMiss.IfBigMacouldseehowquicklyourhometraininghadflownoutthewindow,shewouldhavehadusonthenextBoeing727backtoNewYork.

TherewassomethingwelcomingaboutSisterMukumbu,whomIlikedrightaway.IfSisterMukumbuhadmetusattheairport,wewouldhavefeltwelcomedasshesteppedforwardtoclaimus.Shewouldhavewrappedusupinhergreen,purple,andorangeAfricanprintdressandbeggedourforgivenessforhavingleftus.

Wesatatoneofthetwolongtables.TheclassroomwasunlikeanyIhadeverbeenin.InsteadofpicturesofGeorgeWashington,AbrahamLincoln,andPresidentJohnson,therewasapictureofHueyNewtonsittinginabigwickerchairwitharifleathisside.Therewereotherpicturesofmostlyblackmenandafewwomenhunguparoundtheroom.IexpectedtofindDr.MartinLutherKing’sphotographhangingonthewall,butIwasdisappointed.MalcolmXandMuhammadAliweretheonlyfacesIcouldname.Ididn’tknowanyofthewomen,althoughonewomanlookedjustlikeBigMa.Nexttoherpicturewerethewords“I’msickandtiredofbeingsickandtired.”

Onthewallswerebigsheetsoflined-ruledpaperwritteninteacher’sneathandwriting.Thefirstonesaid“WhatWeWant”ingreenletters.Ontheothersideofthewall,anothersaid“WhatWeBelieve.”

Vonettadidn’tseemtocarethatwewereinsomesortofBlackPanthersummercamp,learningtobecomeBlackPanthers.Herattentionwasfixedonthethreesisterswiththeflared-sleevedressesandtheirround,curlyAfros.I

knewIwouldhearallaboutitlater.Howitwastimeforhertohaveanewhairstyleandthatourclotheswerebabyclothes.

SisterMukumbusaid,“HirohitoWoods.”

Aboyfromtheothertablewithdarkspikyhair,browncopperyskin,andslantedeyesgroaned.Hewasprobablymyage.

SisterMukumbusmiledinspiteofhisgroaning.Shebeckonedhimtoherside,hermanybraceletsjanglingasshewavedhimforward.“Hirohitowillhelpwithmydemonstration.”

Ididn’thavetoturntoseeVonetta’smile-longpout.ItwasjustlikeVonettatobeenviousofsomeoneelsebeinginthespotlight.Hirohitodidn’tseemthrilled.Hepushedhischairbackward,scrapingthefloor,andwentsullenlyuptothefront.ItwasonlyfromthebackofhisspikyheadthatIrecognizedhimastheflyingTboardriderwho’dnearlymowedusdownyesterday.Ihadhalfamindtosockhimgood.

SisterMukumbusaid,“I’mgoingtobethesun,andHirohitowillbetheearth.”Sheleanedandwhisperedsomethinginhisear.Heheavedabigsigh,likehedidn’twanttodowhateveritwasshetoldhimbutwoulddoitanyway.Thesighingwasforuskidssohedidn’tcomeoffassomekindofteacher’spet.

SisterMukumbunoddedandsaidfirmly,“Now,Hirohito.”

Heheavedanothersighandbegantoturnaroundslowly,eachtimetakingasteptotravelaroundSisterMukumbu,whostoodstillandsmiled.Thiswasbetterthansockinghiminthearm.WatchinghimturnaroundandaroundinhisblackandsilverRaidersjersey.Helookeddownandprobablyfeltsilly.Allthekidsintheprogram,includingmysistersandme,giggled.SisterMukumbuwasn’tbotheredbyourgigglingorbyHirohito’ssighing.Shesaid,“Theearthturnsslowlyonitsaxis,whilealsospinningaroundthesun.Daywouldn’tchangetonightiftheearthdidn’tspinonitsaxis.Theseasonswouldn’tchangeiftheearthdidn’ttravelaroundthesun.Thismeansvegetationwouldn’tgrow,whichmeanspoorfarmerscouldn’tharvest,andpoorpeoplecouldn’teatiftheearthdidn’tspinonitsaxisandtravelaroundthesun.Thatonebodyspinninginmotionaffectseveryone’slives.Doesanyoneknowanotherwordfortheearth’sconstantspinning?”

ThatwashowIknewSisterMukumbuwasarealteacher,asidefromherwelcomingsmileandherblackboardpenmanship.Sheaskedateacher’stypeofquestion.Thekindthatsays:Joinin.

ThankstomytimespentwithMerriamWebster,Ihadafewwordsinmind.Rotating.Orbiting.Turning.Circling.Iwantedtojoinin,butIfeltsilly,

beingoneoftheolderkids.NotassillyasHirohitospinningaroundbuttoooldtowavemyhandfranticallyasalltheyoungerkidsaroundmeweredoing.Theoldersisterofthethreegirlsalsosatonheranswer.Sheprobablyknewtoobutleftituptohersisters,whowantedtobecalledon.

Whenoneofthekidscalledout“Revolving,”SisterMukumbuclappedherhands.Herbanglesjangled.“Yes!Allofyourwordsareright,but‘revolving’isrighton!”SisterPatthengavetheboyacookie.

SisterMukumbusaid,“Revolving.Revolution.Revolutionary.Constantturning.Makingthingschange.”

SisterPatsaid,“HueyNewtonisarevolutionary.Hueymakeschange.”

AndSisterMukumbucontinued,saying,“CheGuevarawasarevolutionary.Chemadechange.”

Astheynamedalloftherevolutionarieswhomadechange,Hirohitocametoacompletestop.Heheldouthishands,adizzyFrankenstein,andstaggeredtohischair.Theboywhowonthecookiesaid,“Nicespinning,TwinkleToes.”Hirohitorestedhisheadonthetableandclosedhiseyes.

Ijustthought,Servesyouright.

SisterMukumbuannounced,“Todaywe’regoingtobeliketheearth,spinningaroundandaffectingmany.Todaywe’regoingtothinkaboutourpartintherevolution.”

Vonetta’shandshotup.Ikickedherunderthetable,butshewasdeterminedtohaveeveryonelookather,whichmeanthaveeveryonelookatus.IforgotallaboutHirohitoandwasnowafraidofwhatVonettawouldsaynext;andsureenough,Vonettasaid,“Wedidn’tcomefortherevolution.Wecameforbreakfast.”ThenFernadded,“AndtomeetourmotherinOakland.”

IfHirohito’sspinningmadeusgiggle,Vonetta’sdeclarationmadeeveryone—exceptmysistersandme,andthestill-dizzyHirohito—full-outlaugh.ThegroupofgirlswhomVonettahadbeenwinkingatwerethemaincacklers.EvenSisterMukumbu,caughtoffguardbyVonetta’sandFern’soutbursts,allowedherselfachuckle.

IblamedVonettaandnotFern,sinceIdidn’twanttheworldtolearnwedidn’trightfullyknowourmother.Fernwouldn’thaveutteredawordifVonettahadn’traisedherhandtospeak.Evenworse,Vonettahadthrownaking-sizedmonkeywrenchintomyplans.IhadhopedtoaskSisterMukumbuaboutthenametheBlackPantherscalledCecileandwhytheycalledherthat.Ididn’tknowexactlyhowIwouldhaveaskedher,butsomethingmademebelieveshewouldknowandthatshewouldn’tmakemefeelbadforasking.

Shecertainlywouldn’thavegivenmethat“Oh,youpoormotherlessgirl”pitylook.Orthesnooty“Don’tyouevenknowyourownmother’sname?”SisterMukumbuwouldhavegivenmetheplain,pure,teacherlytruth.

ThenVonettaraisedherhandandopenedhermouthandhadtheworldlookingandlaughingatus.Exceptfortheboywhowastoodizzytolaugh.Iwasn’tabouttoaddfueltothefirebyaskingquestionsaboutthingsthatIshouldknow,likemymother’sname.

CrazyMotherMountain

Aftertheprogramendedfortheday,westayedoutaslongaswecould.Bysixo’clockwewerehungry.Whethershelikeditornot,Cecilehadtoletusinsidehergreenstuccohouse.Whensheopenedthedoor,allshesaidwas“Yaback?”Thenshespreadthetableclothonthefloorandbroughtoutshrimplomeinandeggrollsfromthekitchen.ShehadprobablygoneouttoMeanLadyMing’swhilewewereattheCenter.

WewashedupandsatIndian-stylearoundthefood.IsaidtheblessingandthenIasked,“WhytheBlackPantherscallyouInzilla?”Nouselettingmycuriositygoitching.IfIhadtoasksomeone,Imightaswellgostraighttothemountain.Thecrazymothermountain.

Shegavemeablankstare.LikeIsaidsomethingwrong.Thenshecorrectedme.

“Nzila.”

Inplaceofshrugs,mysistersandIshotoneanotherglances.ThatwasnotaBrooklynsound.OranAlabamasound.Itwasprobablynotevenanhonest-to-goodnessOaklandsound.

InsteadoftryingitoutIsaid,“Whytheycallyouthat?”

Mysistersfollowed.

“Isn’tyournameCecile?”

“Yeah.Cecile.”

Shesaid,“MynameisNzila.Nzilaisapoet’sname.Mypoemsblowthedustoffsurfacestomakeclearandtruepaths.Nzila.”

Igaveheraplainstare.Plainandblank.Itmightaswellhavebeenaneyeroll.Sheprobablyhatedmyfather’splainfaceonme.Thattheplainwayabouthimwastheplainwayaboutme.Ididn’tknowaboutblowingdustandclearingpaths.Iknewabouthot-combingthickheadsofhairandironingpleatedwoolskirtsforschool.

Shesaid,“It’sYorubafor‘thepath.’”

Iknewbetterthantorollmyeyesather“so-called”nameandwhereshesaiditcamefrom.InsteadIaskedherwhereYourRubawas.Shequicklytold

meitwasapeople.Anation.Inthelandofourancestors.

Vonettaasked,“YoumeanPrattville,Alabama?”

ThistimeIwouldn’tkickVonetta.GoodoldVonetta.PrattvillewaswherePapaandBigMawereoriginallyfrom.Theyweren’tfrombig-cityMobile,Montgomery,orSelma,butfromPrattville.Andtruthbetold,mydaddyandmygrandmamacamefromaone-cowtownrubbingnexttoPrattville.TheyjustsaidPrattvillebecauseitwasmoreknown.

Iasked,“Soyoucanchangeyournameanytimeyouwantto?”

Vonetta:“Toanythingyouwantto?”

Fern:“Toanythingyoucanspell?”

Cecilesaid,“It’smyname.Myself.Icannamemyself.AndifI’mnottheoneIwasbutamnowanewself,whywouldIcallmyselfbyanoldname?”

ThenIsaid,“Ifyoukeepchangingyourname,howwillpeopleknowyouoryourpoems?”WhenmysistersandIspeak,onerightaftertheother,it’slikeasongwesing,agameweplay.Weneverneedtopasssignals.Wejustfireoffrat-a-tat-tat-tat.Delphine.Vonetta.Fern.

Me:“S’poseyougotfamous.Forwritingpoems?”

Vonetta:“Theneveryoneknewyourname.”

Fern:“Andyoucouldn’thide.”

Shesaid,“Mypoemsaren’taboutthat.Fame-seekingpoems.They’rethepeople’sart,”althoughyesterdayshedidn’twanttohaveanythingtodowith“thepeople.”

Isaid,“Whatifallthepeoplecouldreciteallofyourpoems?”

Vonetta:“Andtheysaidthemontheradio.”

Fern:“Andyoubecamefamous.”

Me:“Youcouldn’thidethen.”

Fern:“Surelycouldn’t.”

Shesaid,“Whoyouallworkingfor?Ithinky’allworkingfortheManundercover.TheFBI.TheCOINTELPRO.”

IknewabouttheFBIfromtheSundaynightshowandfromthenews,butwhoweretheCOINTELPRO?Cecileknewshehadusbaffledandtookcontrolofthetalklikeshehadgrabbedboththeballandthejacks.

“Oh,they’reslick,allright,”shesaid.“Thefedshiremidgetstofrontaskids.Theyinfiltratefamilieswithlong-lostcousinswhodon’tlookathinglikeyou,butyoutaketheminbecausethat’showcoloredfolksdo;andbeforeyoucansay“Waydownhome,”yourlong-lostkinaredocumentingyoureverymovefortheirweeklysecretmeetingswiththeMan.”

“Familydon’ttellonfamily,”Isaid.

“Notrealfamily.”

“Surelydon’t.”

“That’swhatyouthink,”Cecilesaid.ShewentafterVonettafirstbecauseVonettawasneedyinawaythatFernandIweren’t.Hereyesstayedwideandfearful.“Theygetyoualone.Aloneandscared.Theysay,‘VonettaGaither.Doyouloveyourcountry?Doyouloveyourfather?Yoursisters?YouruncleDarnellinVietnamandBigMainBrooklyn?’”AtFern,sheaimed,“‘LittleGirl,doyouloveyourdollbaby?DoyouloveCaptainKangaroo?Yourkinnygardenteacher,grahamcrackers,andstorytime?Well,ifyouwanttokeepallthatsafe,tellusallyouknowaboutthepersonnamedCecileJohnson,alsoknownasyourmother.’”

FernsaidhernamewasnotLittleGirl.ThatshewasgoingintothesecondgradeandthatshewatchedMightyMouseandnotCaptainKangaroo.

BeforeCecilegottomeIsaid,“Theydon’taskkidsnothing.Noonelistenstokids.”

“IfthiswasRedChinatheywould.TheRedChineseCommunistPartydon’tplay.KidsyoungerthanthatLittleGirlturntheirmotherandfatherovertotheRedsfortreasonandreeducation.”

“We’renotinRedChina,”Itoldher.

Tothatsheonlygrunted,like“That’swhatyouthink.”

EveryoneKnowstheKingoftheSea

Ididn’tcarewhatCecilecalledhernewselforhowmuchdustsheblewoffpathswithherpoems.ShewasCecileJohnsontome,andIdidn’tappreciateherso-callednewselforhernewname.

Anameisimportant.Itisn’tsomethingyoudropinthelitterbasketorontheground.Yournameishowpeopleknowyou.Theverymentionofyournamemakesapicturespringtomind,whetherit’sapictureofclashingfistsoramightymountainthatcan’tbeknockeddown.Yournameiswhoyouareandhowyou’reknownevenwhenyoudosomethinggreatorsomethingdumb.

Cecilehadnotroubledreamingupnamesforus.I’llbetourswerenamesshemeantforustokeepandnotthrowawaywhenwedecidedwehadhadenoughofouroldselves.AccordingtoUncleDarnellandBigMa,shehadhadanamereadyforFern,butPapasaid,“Nomoreofthosemade-up,differentnames.”SoCecilegaveFernsomeofhermilk,putherinhercrib,stoodoverherforawhile,andwasgone.

AlthoughnoonethinksIcan,Irememberatimewhensmokefilledthehouse.Notcoughingsmokebutsmokefromawoman’ssmooth-voicedsinging,withpiano,bass,anddrums.Alltogetherthesesoundsmadesmoke.UncleDarnellwouldsay,“Youcan’trememberthat.Youweretwo.Three,maybe.”ButIdo.Istillsee,hear,andfeelbitsandflashes.Thesoundsofmusicalsmoke.MyheadonCecile’sbigbelly.UncleDarnellsaidthe“Von”in“Vonetta”camefromthe“Vaughan”inthesingerSarahVaughan’sname.AndwhenUncleplayedthealbumsCecilehadleftbehind—theoneswithpiano,bass,drums,andsmooth-voicedSarahVaughan—inmymind,smokestillfilledthehouse.

Cecilecouldgochanginghernameatthesightofrain,butIwasgoingtostayDelphine.EvenafterIlearnedthetruthaboutmyname.Eventhatwasn’tenoughtomakemedropmyname.MynamewastheonethingIdidn’thavetosharewithanothersoulinmyschool.Inmylastclass,threeDebras,twoLindas,twoJameses,threeMichaels,andtwoMoniquessharedtheirnames.TherewasalsooneAnthony,whosemamacouldspell,andoneAntnee,whosemamacouldn’t.Itwasnosecretthey,too,sharedaname.Ifyouhollered“Anthony,”“Antnee,”or“Ant,”bothboys’headsturned.

Mynamewasmyown,andIcouldn’timaginethatanyoneelsehaditinallofBrooklyn.Nomatterwherewewent:ConeyIsland,ProspectPark,orShilohBaptistChurch.TherewasonlyoneDelphine.

IneverthoughtaboutwhatDelphinemeantorifithadameaningatall.Itwasjustmyname.Delphinehadagrownsoundlikeitwaswaitingformetoslideintoit,likeagrownwomanslidesintoaminkcoatandclipsonrubyearrings.IfiguredsinceCeciledidn’thaveaminkcoatorrubyearringstogivemewhenIgrewup,shehaddreamedupanamethatIwouldgrowinto.ItwasonethingCecilegotright.TherewasnosliceordropofitthatIhadtosharewithmysisters.

Thenthatstupidshowhadcomeontelevision.Theoneaboutthedolphinthatsaveseveryone’slivesandcorralsthebadguysuntilthesheriffarrives.Atrecessorontheschoolbus,especiallyonWednesdays,thedayaftertheTVshowcameon,theboyswouldallsing,“TheycallhimFlipper,Flipper,fasterthanlightning,”orsomethinglikethat.Thenthey’dstartpushingatmetospeakindolphin.

EllisCarterhadbeenthechiefFlippersingerandwhistlerononeparticularWednesday.I’dbeatenhimuprealgood.I’dmadesureitwasasunforgettableabeatingasIcouldgivehimsoitwouldburninthemindsofalltheotherFlippersingersandwhistlers.

WhenIgothomefromschool,myknucklesstillsorefromEllisCarter’sjaw,I’dtoldVonettaandFerntochangetheirclothes.Hangthemupneatly.Thatwouldsavemefromironingthemthatnight.I’dtoldthemtostarttheirhomeworkandI’dbebackinexactlytwentyminutestohelpthemiftheyneededit.I’dtoldBigMaIhadtogetabookfromthelibraryandIwouldberightback.ThenI’dmarchedtothatlibrarytofindoutformyself.I’dgonestraighttothebiggestdictionaryinthereferencesection.Thiswasadictionarysohugeyouneededbothhandstomanageturningthepagesandmakingthebookstayput.

GoodoldMerriamWebster.ItrustedMerriambecauseIthought,insteadofhavingchildrenshedidn’twant,shewrotethedictionary.Shedidn’thaveanythingelsebettertodo,probablydidn’thavesistersandbrotherstoseeafter,whichwaswhyshekneweverywordintheworld.BigMawouldhavesaidMerriammightaswellbeuseful.

I’dturnedtothebacksection,turnedpasttheZwords,pastthephasesofthemoonandthemetricsystem,andfinallytotheGivenNames.IflippedafewpagestogettothefemaleDnames.ThenIturnedandthumbedpast“Daisy.”“Daphne.”“Deanna.”“Deborah.”“Della.”“Delores.”

Andthereitwas.ThenameIhadbeensureCecilehaddreamedupwhile

shestaredoutthewindowasmusicalsmokeblewthroughthehouse.Thereitwas.Inabook.Brokendownintotwosyllables.Spelledexactlythesame.Thereitwas.Myname.Delphine.

Mynostrilshadflared.Mybreathingraced.Myheartpoundednotonlyinmychestbutthroughoutmybody.

Thischangedeverything.Mymotherhadn’treachedintoherpoeticsoulanddreamtmeupaname.Mymotherhadgivenmeanamethatalreadywas,whichmeantshehadn’tgivenmeathing.Notonething.

Howcouldthisbe,whenawoman’sdeep,smokyvoiceplantedVonetta’snameinCecile’smind?Howcouldthisbe,whenCeciledreamedupanameforFernsomarvelousthattheideaofnotbeingabletogiveitcausedhertoupandleaveus?

Ididn’tneedtoaskanyfurther.Theproofwasrightthere.IsharedmynamewithsomeotherDelphine.Andshe,justlikeI,accordingtoMissMerriamWebster,hadbeennamedforadolphinunderthesea.

AllthistimeI’dbeenholdingmyheadup,feelingsuperiortoEllis,Willy,Robert,James,James,theMichaels,Anthony,andAntneebecausetheywerestupidboys.MyknucklestillsmartedfromsockingEllisCarterinthejawwhilehehadbeentellingthetruth.Ihadbeennamedforadolphin.Abigfishymammalwithawidegrin.

LearningthefulltruthaboutmynamehadbeenmorethanIcouldbear.ThelibrariangotupfromherdeskandputaKleenexinmyhand.Ihadn’tevenknownI’dbeenmakingagrandNegrospectacleoutofmyself,bawlingoverawordinthedictionary.

ThefollowingweekwhenFlippercameon,I’dgottenupandturnedthetelevisionsetoff.VonettaandFernbleatedlikebillygoats,butI’ddonewhatIalwaysdidanddistractedthem.I’dsaid,“Tonightisgameandcookienight.”IbroughtouttheCandyLandgame,pouredthemilk,andpiledanicestackofOreosonaplate.Ihadn’tcaredifIneversawthatgrinningmammalagain.

ColoringandLa-La

Thenextmorning,Vonetta,Fern—clutchingMissPattyCake—andIleftthegreenstuccohouseandwenttotheCenter,wherewestoodonlineuntilthedoorsopenedforbreakfastbecauseCecilewouldn’tcookforusinherkitchen.Whileweatehotoatmealandslicedbananas,atruckfromalocalstorepulledupanddroppedoffloavesofbreadandcratesoforangejuice.WithinminutesthesmelloftoastedbreadfilledtheCenterandsmallcartonsoforangejuicewereplacedonourtrays.

TheyoungwhiteguyswhodeliveredthebreadandorangejuiceknewthePanthers.Theystayedawhileandchattedwiththem.Ihadmyeyesonthemthewholetime,waitingforsomethingtohappen.IfeltsillyonceIrealizedallIwaswatchingwastalkingandlaughing.WhenSisterPatcamearoundwithabasketfuloftoast,Igrabbedtwopieces,oneformeandoneforFern.Vonetta,whowasbuddyinguptooneofthethreesisters,couldgetherowntoast.

Itwasn’tatallthewaythetelevisionshowedmilitants—that’swhattheycalledtheBlackPanthers.Militants,whofromthenewspaperswereangryfistwaverswiththeirmouthswide-openandtheirriflesreadyforshooting.TheynevershowedanyonelikeSisterMukumbuorSisterPat,passingouttoastandteachinginclassrooms.

Istartedtothink,Thisplaceisallright.Iwatchedthewhiteguysleaveunharmed,laughingeven.Icouldn’twaittotellBigMaallaboutit.ThenIheardCrazyKelvinsay,“That’stheleastthattheracistdogscando,”andjustlikethat,hespoiledwhatIthoughtIknew.

Whenweenteredtheclassroom,wefoundthechairsandtableshadbeenpushedtoonesideoftheroom.Inthemiddleofthefloorwerewhiteposterscoveredwithoutlinesofwavywriting.Westoodontheedgesoftheroomsurroundingtheposters,likewewereondrylandandtheposterswerefloatingouttosea.

SisterMukumbumotionedusin.“Sistersandbrothers,findapostertocolorin.Youcanworkaloneoryoucanworkwithapartner.”

Ilookedouttosea.Thelettersoutlinedinblackmarkersaidthingslike:

JUSTICEFORALL

ALLPOWERTOALLOFTHEPEOPLE

REMEMBERLI’LBOBBY

FREEHUEY

IhadseenHueyNewtonontheeveningnews,wearinghisblackberetandusinghisbigwords.BigMacalledhim“themaintroublestirrer”becausehewastheleaderoftheBlackPanthers.TheonlyfamousBobbyIknewwasBobbyKennedy.EventhoughBobbyKennedyhadbeenkilled,Ididn’tthinktheBlackPantherswantedustorememberBobbyKennedy.TheyweretalkingaboutsomeotherBobby.A“little”Bobby.AndIwonderedifhehadbeenkilledlikeBobbyKennedy.Whyelsewouldtheywantustorememberhimifhewerestillalive?

SisterMukumbusaid,“Yesterdaywelearnedrevolutionmeans‘change’andthatwecanallberevolutionaries.”Asshespoke,westeppedcarefullybetweentheposters,choosingoneandthenploppingdownnexttoit.SisterPatpassedaroundabucketofMagicMarkersandcrayons.

PartofmefeltlikerepeatingVonetta’swords:“Wedidn’tcomefortherevolution.Wecameforbreakfast.”Butpartofmewantedtoseewhatitwasallabout.ThatpartreachedintothebucketforathickMagicMarker.VonettaandFerneachtookcrayons.FerntookanextracrayonforMissPattyCake.

IdecidedontheFREEHUEYpostersinceIdidn’tknowwhoLi’lBobbywas.FernandIsquatteddownbyourposter.NexttoFernsatMissPattyCakewithherarmsreachingout.Ichosetherightposter.Ferncolorssmallandsnaillike.Therewasnoneedtograbthesignwithalotofletters,sinceitwouldbejustthetwoofuscoloring.Insteadofstickingwithus,VonettaranovertothemiddleAnktongirl—thatwastheirlastname,Ankton—andbegancoloringwithherandheryoungersister.Icouldn’tsayIwassurprised.

ThenIheardthemiddleAnktongirlsay,“What’swrongwithyourlittlesister?”

Vonettatriedtoactlikeshehadn’theardandkeptcoloringthePinPower.

“Whysherunaroundwithherdolly?”

Vonetta,whoisloudandshowy,showyandcrowy,hadtoswallowherwords.“Shelikesit.That’sall.”Vonettanowsoundedlowandsmall,anditservedherright.

IwatchedFernmovehercrayoninsmallblackcircles.Icouldhearhersinging“La-la-la”toherself.Irecognizedthetune.Itwasthe“la-la-la”partinasongthatusedtocomeontheradio.WhenBrendaandtheTabulationssang

“DryYourEyes,”mysistersandIimaginedtheysangaboutamotherwhohadtoleaveherchildren.Itwastheonlyrealindulgenceweallowedourselvesinmissinghavingamother.BrendaandtheTabulations,Vonetta,Fern,andIsang“DryYourEyes”wheneverthediscjockeyplayeditonWWRL.SoIsangthela-la-lapartwithFern,makinganicewallaroundus,tokeepthatlaughingAnktongirlontheoutside.

Weallhaveourla-la-lasong.Thethingwedowhentheworldisn’tsinginganicetunetous.Wesingourownnicetunetodrownoutugly.FernandIcoloredandsang,butthemiddleAnktongirlwasdeterminedtobreakthroughourla-la-lawall.Shehadherownsongandmadesureweheardit.

“Yoursisterisababy.Yoursisterisababy.”

IexpectedVonettatodowhatwealwaysdo.Fightback.Talkback.PickuphercrayonandscootovernearFernandme.

Vonettasatinasmallheapofherself,lookingsmallerandsmaller,lettingthatAnktongirlsing“Yoursisterisababy”merrily,merrily,merrily.

Istoppedfillingin“FreeHuey.”Iturnedandsaid,“Shutup,”toVonetta’sfriend.

Shestoppedsinging.Thatwasallittook.AndthatmademeevenangrieratVonetta.Shecouldhavedonethatmuchforherownsister.

TheoldestAnktongirlroseupfromherJUSTICEFORALLsign.Shesaidtome,“Youcan’ttellmysistertoshutup.”

Igaveherafull-outneckroll.“Ijustdid.”

Itdidn’tmatterthatshewasalmostastallasIwas,andcouldhavebeenaseventhgrader.ItwastoolatetotakeanythingbackevenifIwantedto.

SisterMukumbuwasrightthereandendeditbeforeitgrewintoanythingtostop.Sheremindeduswehadgreatercausestofightforthantofightwitheachother.

“SisterEunice,SisterDelphine.Shakehands.”

Webegrudginglyshookhands,thenreturnedtoourposters.Ifeltsomeshame,butIwasn’tabouttowearit.IwasstilltoomadatVonettatobethoroughlyashamed.

OnthewaytoCecile’sgreenstuccohouse,Isaid,“You’resupposedtotakeupforFern.”

“Yeah,”Fernsaid.

Vonettasaid,“I’mtiredoftakingupforFern.”

Fernsaid,justtohavesomethingtosayback,“I’mtiredoftakingupforyou.”

Vonettasaid,“Youdon’ttakeupforme.”

“Dotoo.”

“Donot.”

“Too.”

“Not.”

“Idotoo.”

“Likewhen?”

“Whenyoubrokethelittleblueteacup.Icould’vetold.”

“Bigdeal,”Vonettasaid.ThensheaddedtheAnktongirl’swordtoletusknowwhoshesidedwith.“Bigdeal,baby.”

FernbangedherfistsathersidesandwassettoleaponVonetta,butIgrabbedherinmidjump.“Y’alljuststopit.”

Fernwasneartearsmad.“I’mgonnatell.”

“Whoyougonnatell?Cecile?Shedon’tcareaboutablueteacup.BigMa?Papa?They’remilesandmilesaway,andwedon’thaveenoughdimes.Whoyougonnatell?”

Isaid,“Shutup,Vonetta.”

Andsheshutup.Thatwasallittook.

IhadplannedforustokilltimeplayingintheparkuntilCecilewouldletusinthehouse,butplayingintheparkmeantplayingtogether.VonettaandFernweren’treadytoplaytogether.Ihadtokeepmysistersapart,soinsteadwewenttothelibrary.Vonettareadherbooksatonetable,andFernandIreadHenryandRibsyatthenexttable.

WhenwegottoCecile’s,weputourthings,includingMissPattyCake,awayinourroom.IaskedCecileforsomemoneyfordinner,andFernandIwentouttopickupchopsueyfromMing’s.

Vonettadidn’twanttogo,shesaid.AndthatwasfinewithFernandme.

WecamebackfromMeanLadyMing’s,whowasn’treallysomeanbutwe’dgottenusedtocallingherthat.Ikeptthetwodimesfromthechangetosaveupforourphonecall.Iwassurewe’dneedatleastadollarinchange.Cecilewouldn’tmisstwodimes.Ifsheaskedforthem,I’dgivethemtoher,althoughIdidn’tthinkshe’dask.

Wespreadoutthetableclothonthefloorandloadedupourplates.Isaidtheblessingandweate.VonettasuddenlybecameChattyCathyallthroughdinner.Ifiguredshe’dhadenoughofbeingapartfromFernandmeandwasnowgladwewerealltogether.ButitwastoomuchChattyCathyforCecile,whotoldVonettatostopdisturbingthesilenceandthatquietwasagoodthing.TothatVonettastartedhummingthatsongontheradiothatgoes“Silenceisgolden,butmyeyesstillsee.”Cecilecouldn’tfigureouthowVonettawashers.BeforeCeciledidsomethingcrazy,IgaveVonettathelookandshestoppedhumming.

AfterdinnerweheadedforourroomwhileCecileputeverythingaway.ForonceIdidn’tcarethatshewouldn’tletusinthekitchenwhereherpapershunglikewings.Ididn’tmindnothavingtowashdishesormopthekitchenfloor.

Thiswastheorderthatweenteredtheroom:Fernfirst,menext,andVonettalast.IshouldhaveknownsomethingwasamissbythewayVonettalaggedbehind.FernandIsoonlearnedwhy.

ChattyCathyhadn’tmissedthecompanyofhersisters.ChattyCathyhadbeenuptodirtytricks.AblackMagicMarkerlayonthefloor.ThesamekindIusedtocolorin“FreeHuey.”

VonettahadgoneoverMissPattyCakewiththeblackMagicMarker,leavingpinklipsandpinkrougecirclespeekingoutonaonce-whiteface.Totellthetruth,MissPattyCakewasneveraswhiteasthedayFerngother.Afterenoughbiting,draggingaround,andlovingup,MissPattyCakewasoff-white,or“lightskinned,”asFernwouldsay.Asitwas,MissPattyCakewasalongwayfromherpinkishwhiteself.

Fernscreamed.Louderthanshe’dscreamedontheConeyIslandFerriswheel.Louderandlongerthanshe’dscreamedwhenthedentiststuckherwiththenovocaineneedle.Fern’sfistsnevermadeittoaball.ShescreamedandthrewherbodyintoVonettalikeamissileflyingintoouterspace.VonettaandFernfoughtallthetimebutnotlikethis.

Cecileburstintotheroomandpulledthemapart.Thatwasthefirsttimeshe’dtouchedeitheroneofthem.

Sheturnedtome.“Why’dyouletthemfightlikethis?”

Ididn’tsayanything.Ijustwantedhertocomeinhereandactlikeamother.Arealone.

“Answerme,Delphine.”

Iraisedmyshouldersupandsetthembackdown.Thatwasmyanswer.

“Andyou,Vonetta!Whatdoyoucallthis?”Sheheldupherblack-scrawledgrandbabytoVonetta’sface.“Nowonderyoucouldn’tstoplipflapping.”ToFernshesaid,“You’retoobigforthisanyway.”

ButCecilestilldidn’tofferFernahug.Shedidn’tbenddownandwipeFern’stears.Shestilldidn’tcallFernbyhername.

CountingandSkimming

ItookabarofIvorysoapandoneofCecile’swashclothsandscrubbedawayattheblackinkscrawledalloverMissPattyCake.BigMataughtmetobeahardwashboardscrubber.Tonotacceptdirt,dust,orstainsonclothes,floors,orwalls,oronourselves.“Scrublikeyou’reagalfromaone-cowtownnearPrattville,Alabama,”she’dtellmewhileVonettaandFernranaroundandplayed.“Can’thaveyoudreamingoutofyourheadandwritingonthewalls.That’llonlyleadtoruin.”

IgrabbedMissPattyCake’sdimpledarmsandchubbylegs.Iwentafterhercheeksandforehead.Iscrubbedeveryblacked-uppieceofplastic,wearingdownthatIvorybarfromanearlyfullcaketonearlyhalfflat.Iscrubbedandscrubbeduntilmyknucklesached.Itwasquiteajob.WhenVonettapickedupthatblackMagicMarker,shehadbeendeterminedtomakeMissPattyCakeasblackandproudasCrazyKelvinwantedhertobe.

Isoonfounditdidn’tmatterifIscrubbedlikeagalfromaone-cowtownorifIgaveuponIvorysoapandturnedtostrongercleaners.Whiletheheavy-dutycleanersandscouringpadliftedtheblackfromthewhitebathroomsink,MissPattyCake’sbodywasanotherstory.TheMagicMarkerinkseepeddownintoMissPattyCake’ssoftplasticskin.Atbest,theAjax,Pine-Sol,andscouringpadleftMissPattyCakegray,scratchedup,andstrongsmelling.Hardscrubbingornot,therewasnothingmoreIcoulddo.MissPattyCakewouldneverbeFern’sbabydollthewayshe’dbeenaslongasanyonecouldremember.Ishookallthewaterfromherinsides,driedheroff,thenputherinmysuitcasetospareFernfromseeingherdollbabygrayishandashy.

IwastootiredtotrytomakethisthingbetweenVonettaandFernwiltaway.Thiswasn’texactlyfightingoverwhogetsthegoldcrayonorthelastcookie.IknewbetterthantolookforhelpfromCecile.Worn-out,IbegantoseethingslikeBigMadid.Therewasnopointinflyingusacrossthecountryfornexttonomothering.

Ijustkeptcountingdownthedays.ThebestthatIcoulddowaskeepVonettaandFernseparated.Vonettabathedbyherself,andFernbathedwithme.Vonettasleptonthetopofthedaybed,andFernsleptwithmebelow.

FernnolongerlookedforherdollwhenweleftCecile’sforbreakfast.I

wouldn’tsayVonettadidFernanyfavor,butmaybethingsworkedoutthewaytheyhadto.

Still,Vonettaremainedproudlydefiant,walkingtwostepsaheadofusandthenleavingusaltogetheroncehernewfriends,theAnktons,wereinsight.SheandJanice,themiddleAnkton,threwpebblesatHirohitoWoodsandfussedoverwhohatedhimmore.

Forsnacktime,SisterPatpassedoutgrapes.Afterweateourfill,SisterMukumbugaveusalessonontheCaliforniagrapesthatwehadjusteatenandhowthemigrantworkerswhopickedthemhadtofightfortheirrights.

Idon’tthinkthelessonwentthewaySisterMukumbuhadplanned.Everyonefeltbadlyforhavingeatenthegrapes.Theroomwasquiet.ThenSisterMukumbuannouncedfreetimeforthenexthour.Allthekidswentwildattheprospectofrunningaroundintheparkforanhour,butFernandIdidn’tfeellikerunningwiththem.

SisterPathadclassesathercollegeandhadtoleave.WhenallthekidsexceptFernandIranouttothepark,IaskedSisterMukumbuifshehadanychoresorifsheneededhelpintheclassroom.NotthatIwantedherembarrassingme,havingmestandupfrontandrotatearoundthesun.Itjustfeltstrange,myTimextickingandmehavingnothingtodo.IfonlyI’dthoughttobringmybookwithme.AlotofgoodIslandoftheBlueDolphinsdidmesnuginsidemypillowcase.

SisterMukumburoseimmediately.Shehadjustthethingtokeepmebusyuntiltheclasscametogetherforartsandcrafts.SheaskedFernandmetocounttheBlackPantherweeklynewspapers,stackingthemcrisscrosseveryfiftycopies.Shesaidtheolderkidswouldtakethemtolocalstoresorsellthepapersthemselves.Shemadeitsoundlikeweweredoingagreatservicebyhelpingthenewspapercarriersbecomemore“organizedandaccountable.”ItjustgavemesomethingtodoandFernareasontostickwithme.

PoorFern.Shedidn’thavetheknackforcounting.ShewasstillangryandheartbrokenaboutMissPattyCake.Shecouldn’tgetpasttwentycopieswithoutlosingherplaceandhadtostartover,againandagain.Mystackofpapersgrewwhileshehadyettocountoutherfirstfifty.

“Can’twejustgototheparkandplay?”sheasked.

Iwastemptedtolethergobutsaid,“Comeon,Fern.Wehavetogetthisdone.Allyouhavetodoiscountouttenandlaythemthisway.Thencountanothertenandlaythemthatway.”

IfeltSisterMukumbuwatchingasIshowedFerntheshortcut.Youknowwhensomeone’seyesareonyourbackandwhetherit’sinagoodorabadway.Ifeltherwatchingusinagoodway.SoonFerncaughton,countingandcrisscrossing.Herstackofpapersbegantogrow.Notashighasmine,butitgrew.FernwasnowbusyandnotmissingMissPattyCakeforthemoment.

AfterashortwhileIfeltSisterMukumbu’seyesleaveus.Shemusthavefiguredwewereallrightandhadcontinueddoingherownwork.

SincetheBlackPanthernewspapercostaquarter,ItoldmyselfI’donlyskimthefrontandbackpagesasIstackedthepapers.IwouldreadwhatIcouldsee.IknewifIflippedapageoverandreaditlinebyline,Iwasofficiallyreadingsomeoneelse’spaper.OrasPawouldcallit,stealing.

Iskimmedthefrontpageofeveryfivecopies.Igotintoarealrhythm.Countingandreadingafewkeywordsatatime.Therewasmoreartworkthanprintingonthefrontpage,soIcouldn’treadmuch.Onethingwasforsure.I’dknowHueyNewtonifIeversawhimonthestreet.Youcouldn’thelpbutseeHueyNewtonalloverthenewspaper.Hisfacewascockedslightlyintheuppercornerofthepaperlikethepresident’sfaceonadollarbill.NowtheBlackPantherleaderwasinprisonwherehebelonged,accordingtoBigMa.

AsIcounted,IdugHuey’scornerpicture,himwearinghisberetlookingcoolandrevolutionary.Iflippedopenanewspaperquickly,skimmedthearticleinfive-secondglancesatatime,thenflippeditclosed.ThearticlewasaboutHueytalkingaboutBobby.TherewasalsoaphotographofpeopleprotestingthatIwantedtogetabetterlookat.Theywerepeoplecarryingthesamekindofsignsthatwehadcoloredin.Thosecouldhavebeenoursigns.Wewereprobablypartoftherevolution.Wouldn’tthatmakeafineclassroomessay:“MyRevolutionarySummer”?

Iwantedtoreadthenewspaper.Notskim.Notsteal.Iwantedtofoldapaperover,sitback,andreadeveryword.

Imusthavelostcount.IwastoobusyimaginingaBlackPanthercarryingourFREEHUEYsign.Toobusytonoticemyneatstackhadgrownintounevenbundleswitheithermorethanfiftyorlessthanfiftynewspapers.

“SisterDelphine.”

SisterMukumbustoodbeforemewithasmileonherface.

“Nuts!”Fernsaid,becauseSisterMukumbu’svoicehadstartledher,makingherlosecount.Shebegantorecount.

“Yes,SisterMukumbu?”Iansweredweakly.Ihadn’tevenheardherget

upfromherchairorfelthereyesonmyback.Itwasn’tlikemetogetlostlikethat.

“Doyouwanttoreadanewspaper?”

Andembarrassed.I’mnotthekindtobeembarrassed.Thankgoodnessshewasateacherandnotsomeboywhocouldreadthethoughtsspinninginmyhead.

Inoddedmyyes,whichonlyfeltworsesinceIwasnotanodder.

Idugoutmytwodimesfromlastnight’schange.“I’llbringanickeltomorrow,”Isaid.

Shesmiledandsaid,“Twentycentswillbefine,SisterDelphine.You’reentitledtotheworker’sdiscount.”

Iwastooembarrassedtosaythank-youandgaveheranothernod.ItookmynewspaperandfoldedittwicetoreadaboutHuey,Bobby,andtheprotesterslater.

Now,insteadofhavingtwoofthetendimesneededtocallPaandBigMa,wewerebacktohavingnodimes.FernandIkeptcountingandstacking.

BigRedS

ThatnightFerncomplainedaboutherachingstomach.Shemeowedandhowledandturnedinhersleep.

“Gositonthetoilet,”Itoldher.Sheclungtomyside,meowingandhowling.Vonettayelled,“Quitit,Fern.Ican’tsleep.”IpaidhernomindandneitherdidFern.IfFerncouldn’tsleep,thenweallcouldn’tsleep,sotoobadforVonettaandtoobadforme.IjustletFerncarryonwhileIrubbedherstomach.Ittookawhile,butshefinallyfellintosleep.

BeforeweleftfortheCenterinthemorning,IaskedCecileforfoodmoneyfortonight’sdinner.IfIcouldholdontotwohundreddollarsoverthreethousandmiles,Icouldholdontoaten-dollarbillforafewhours.Ceciledidn’tbotherwithanyquestions.Shejustgavemetheten-dollarbillandadoorkeysoshewouldn’thavetogetupandletusin.Ithinkanyonestandingatthefrontdoormadeherjumpy.Evenwhenweateonthefloorinthelivingroom,I’dcatchhereyesshifttothedoorwhensheheardanoise.MaybeshethoughtthePantherswerecomingbacktobotherherformoreinkandpaper.

IwasgladCecilehandedoverthemoneywithoutfussorquestions.ThatsavedmefromlyingaboutgettingshrimplomeinwhenIhadnointentionofgoingtoMing’s.Vonetta,Fern,andIhadeatenourlastplateofshrimplomeinandeggrollsfortherestofourcrazysummer.Shrimpandnoodlesswimminginsauceanddeep-friedeggrollshadtakentheirtollonus.NotthatMeanLadyMingwouldcryforherthreecoloredgirls.Shehadothercustomerstoyellat.

AlldaylongattheCenterIcouldthinkofnothingelsebutahome-cookedmeal.WemarchedtotheSafewaystoreafterplayingintheparkforanhour.Myshoppinglistwasburnedintomybrain.Ipickeduponeheadofcabbage.Seventeencents.Oneonion.Eightcents.Twopotatoes.Twenty-threecents.Onepackageofchickenthighsandonepackageofwings.Onedollarandforty-sevencents.Thepriceofthechickenwouldhavebeenthieveryofthehighestkind,accordingtoBigMa,whoraisedchickensdowninAlabamaandhadonlytogopulloneupbyitsneck,killit,pluckit,cleanit,andfryit.Lastly,butmostimportant,Idroppedacanofstewedprunesintoourshoppingbasket.Forty-ninecents.Therewasplentyofmoneyleftoverto

callPaandtalkforaslongaswewanted.

VonettaandFernpoutedasthegrocerieswentintothebasket.Therewereevenacoupleof“Aw,shucks”andfingersnappingasourdinnerwasplacedonthecashier’scounter.AllthesnipingbetweenVonettaandFernoverMissPattyCakewasnowaimedattheirnewenemies:therealfoodthatwewouldeatuntilwereturnedtoBrooklyn,andme.

Ipaidforthegroceriesandputthechangeinmypocket.I’dgiveCecilethedollarbillsandkeepthecoinsforourtelephonecalltoPapa.

“Whycan’twehavepizza?”Vonettamoaned.

“Orshrimplomein?”

“Because,”Isaid,enjoyingmyroleastheirenemyandbigsister,“that’snotfoodforeverydayeating.”IheldupthebrownpaperSafewaybagwithitsbigredSprintedsmackinthecenter.“Thisis.”

BigMawouldhavebeenproudofmebutalsoangrythatIallowedittocometothis.I’msuresheexpectedthiskindoflivingfromCecile.Frommesheexpectedbetter.

“Phooey.”

“Doublephooey.”

TheycouldphooeyallnightlongforallIcared.

Vonettasaid,“Ihopeyouknowshewon’tletyoucookthat.”

“Notinherkitchen,”Fernsaid.

SoIsaid,“Thenshe’llcookitinherkitchen.”Papa’svoicepouredoutofmymouthlikewarm,steadytapwater.

WhenIputthekeyinthedoor,Isaid,“Gowashyourfaceandhandsrealgood.PlayGoFishuntilIcallyouforsupper.”

Cecilewasn’tinthelivingroom,whichmeantshewasinherkitchen.Ididn’twantVonettaandFerntoseehowafraidIwasofCecile.Ithoughtofhowsheplantedherbodybetweenusandherkitchendoor,daringustotakeastepfarther.Thatshe’dratherletFerndryupofthirstthangiveheraglassofwaterwithice.IthoughtabouthowcrazyCecilewasandthatIdidn’tknowherorwhatshewoulddonext.

NowthatIcouldsmellthecabbageandonionfromthebrownpaperbag,IlostthatfeelingofbeingcalmandbravelikePapa.Ididn’tdarewalkin,soIcalledtoher:“Cecile.”

Itdidn’toccurtometouseherpoetname,Nzila,tomaybesoftenherup.

Butthatnamedidn’tfeelrightcomingoutofmymouth.

Idreadedthismoment.Dreadedthethoughtofherswingingthekitchendooropenandherseeingmewithabagofuncookedfood.Therewasnoputtingitoff.Icalledtoheragain,thistimelouder:“Cecile.”

Herhandsslappedagainstthecounterortabletopgoodandhard.Inafewstompsthedoorswungopenandshewaslookingdownatme.

Itookastepbackandhuggedthebag.“Ihavetocooksupper.”

Shestareddownatmeanddidn’tspeak.Ididn’tknowwhattodoorsay,soItookthechangeoutofmypocket,allofit,andhelditouttoher.Shetookit.Droppeditintoherpantspocket.Maintainedherlong,hardstare.Ifthatwassupposedtomakemefeelafraid,stupid,andsmall,itworked.

Thenshespoke.“Whyn’tyougotoMing’s?OrShabazz?”

WehaveaShabazzinBrooklyn.ThefishandbeanpieplacerunbytheBlackMuslims.

Ifoundmyvoiceandsaid,“Wecan’teattakeouteveryday.VonettaandFerncan’tstomachit.”

“Youcan’tcomeinmykitchenmakingamess.Thisismyworkplace.Idon’tneedyouinhereturningthingsupsidedown.”

Isaid,“Idon’tmakemesses,”withoutalickofsass.Ispoketheplaintruth.I’dnevermadeamessinmylife.Notevenforthefunofit.

Cecilewentstompingandcursingbackintothekitchen.“Noonetoldy’alltocomeouthere.Noonewantsyououtheremakingamess,stoppingmywork.”

IstoodoutsidethekitchenwiththeSafewaybagheldtighttomychest.I’msuretheSafewaySwasinthesamespotasSuperman’sbigredSwassewntohiscostume.Ifeltrightaboutlookingoutformysisters,butIdidn’tfeelbrave.Allthesame,Ididn’twantVonettaandFerntoseemestandingtherelikeascareddummyholdingabagofgroceries.

Cecilepushedthedooropen.

“Getaspeckofgreaseonmywork…Youhear?”

IknewbetterthantowaitforanicerinvitationandwalkedinsideCecile’skitchen.Itwaslargerthanourkitchenbackhome.Hershadboththecookingareaandaneatingarea,whichhadn’tbeensetupforeating.Therewasalongtable,onlyonechair—hers—andwhatIfiguredwasherprintingmachineontopofthetable.

Ididn’twanttobecaughtgawkingatherandherstuff.Iwentstraighttothesinkandstartedstrippingtheonion.Washingthecabbage.Washingpotatoes.WashingthechickenpartsuntilIcouldfigureoutwhattodonextwithouthavingtoaskCecileathing.

Shehoveredoverhermachinery,gruntingandcursing.Thenshegotup,pulledopenadrawer,andthrewapotatopeelerandaknifeinthesink.Theknifejustmissedmyhand.Shedidn’tlookoncebutsaid,“Don’tgocuttingoffyourfingers.There’snomoneytotakeyoutothehospital.”

Ifeltherwatchingmeatwork.ThankstoBigMa,Icouldskinapotatowithaparingknifewithoutwastingascrapofwhitepotato.Icouldcutupawholefryertoo,eventhoughthistimeIdidn’thaveto.

Cecilegrunted.“Whatyougonnadotothatchicken?”

Isaid,“Bakeit.”

“Frying’sfaster,”shesaid.

Ipointedtoherpapers.“Grease.”Papa’seasyvoicejustslidrightoutofme,warmandsteady.Icouldfeelmyselfcomingback.Myvoice.Mysteadiness.

“Whatyougonnadowiththepotatoes?”

“Boilthemwiththecabbageandonion.”

“Hmp.”

Therewassomethingaboutbeingherewithherinthekitchen.AndIknewwhatitwas.Ihadaflash.Aflashofus.Quietandinthekitchen.Penciltappingandhervoicechanting.Iblinkedthatflashaway.Ididn’thavetimetobepulledintoadaydream.IkeptdoingwhatIwasdoing.AndthenIpressedmyluckandaskedherforsomefatback.

Anothergrunt.“Nofatback.Nosaltpork.Nopigofanykindinmykitchen.”

Ishookmyhead.PeopleinOaklandweretouchyaboutpigs.Theyweretouchyaboutthepigontheirplatesandthe“pigs,”asCrazyKelvincalledthem,inpolicecars.BackinBrooklyn,BigMawouldn’tstandforcookingwithoutporkonaSunday.Icouldn’tevenimagineCecileandBigMasharingakitchenorlivinginthesamehouse.

Sincetherewasnopork,IusedwhatCecilehad.Butter,saltandpepper,plustheonion.Itdidn’tsmelllikeBigMa’skitcheninBrooklyn,butitwasthearomaofrealfoodcooking.

NowthatIhadourdinnerunderway,IwantedtotakeinCecile’splaceof

work.Seewhatshewasdoinghoveringoverhermachine,quietly.Carefully.FromwhereIstood,stealingglances,itseemedlikeshewaslayingdownpuzzlepieces.Pickinguponepieceofsomethingandlayingitcarefullydownonherequipment.Pickingupanotherpieceandlayingitdown.Thenshe’dstudythepieces.Justthepieceshehadcompleted.ShehadpulledherselfintoherpuzzlelayingandhadforgottenIwasthere.

IcouldseewhyVonettaandFernwerenotallowedinsideCecile’skitchen.Cecilewasfixedinprayer.Iwasallowedtobethere,butIdidn’tdareclearmythroat,letaloneaskhertoshowmewhatshewasdoing.VonettaandFerndidn’thavethesensetobequiet.

Wespreadthetableclothonthefloorandsatcross-leggedasifwewereeatingMeanLadyMing’stakeoutorfriedfishfromShabazz.WhileVonettaandFernatebegrudgingly,Cecilecleanedherplateandleftthreeblanchedchickenbones.

“Thisdon’ttastelikeBigMa’s,”Vonettasaid.

“Surelydon’t,”Fernfollowed.

“Weshouldagotpizza.”

“Orshrimplomein.”

CecilereachedontoVonetta’splateandtookthethighthatVonettahadleft.Tome,shesaid,“That’sgratitudeforyou.”

Ididn’tcarethattheywereungrateful.Itoldmysisters,“Getusedtoeatinglikethis.”

Vonettasaid,“I’mgoingtotellBigMa.”

“AndPapa.”

Tothem,Isaid,“Tell.”

Whenweweredone,Cecilehandedmeeveryplate,aftershe’deatenwhateverVonettaandFernhadleft.“Youstartedthismess,Delphine.Youcleaneverydishandspoon.”

Wehadeatenwithforks,butIwasn’tabouttocorrecther.IjusttooktheforkswhileVonettaandFerndisappearedintoourroom.AtleastIcouldlookPaintheeyeandsay,“Yes,Pa.Ididwhatyousaid.Ilookedoutformysisters.”AtleastIgotCeciletoletmeintoherkitchen.

Thensheadded,“Anddon’texpectnohelpfromme.”

Isaid,“Idon’tmind.”

Shegaveanother“Hmp”andaheadshake.“We’retryingtobreakyokes.You’retryingtomakeoneforyourself.IfyouknewwhatIknow,seenwhatI’veseen,youwouldn’tbesoquicktopulltheplow.”

Isortofknewwhatshemeant,butsomeonehadtolookoutforVonettaandFernwhilewewerehere.

Istackedtheplatesinthesinkandranthehotwater.

“Itwouldn’tkillyoutobeselfish,Delphine,”shesaid,andmovedmeoutofthewaytowashherhands.Thenshewentbacktoprayingoverherpuzzlepieces.

ChinaWho

SisterMukumbugaveEunice,Hirohito,andmetwoemptymilkcartonseachtofillwithwaterfromthehallwayfountain.TodayourclasswastotakespongesthatsheandSisterPathadcutupintodifferentshapesandmakeprinteddesignsonoldT-shirts.We’dusered,black,andgreenpaint,thesamecolorsastheinkCecileusedforherpoemsandwhateverflyersthePanthersaskedhertoprintup.

AsSisterMukumbureadiedthepaints,Ithoughtofallthosecolors,drippingandsplatteringonVonetta’sandFern’sclothes,andhavingtoscrubthemwithoutawashboard.

“Don’tstartanythinguntilIgetbackwiththewater,”ItoldFern.

Fernseemedoffinaworldofherown.

SisterMukumbuclappedherhands,pressingmetogetgoing.Fernwouldbeallrightfortwominuteswithoutme.

IfollowedEuniceandHirohitowithamindtohurryback.Ihadtoadmit,Ilikedbeingseenasoneoftheclassroomhelpers.VonettaandJanicewereputoutbythefactthattheyweren’taskedtotakeaskipdownthehallwithHirohito.Theyhadbothraisedtheirhandstoaskiftheycouldhelptoo.AlthoughIdidn’tlikeEunicemuch,weglancedateachotherandknewthesamething:ourmiddlesisterswereboycrazyforHirohito.HewasprobablytwelveorthirteenandonlysawVonettaandJaniceaspestshecouldbothmesswithandkeepatadistance.

Hirohitobeatustothefountain.Ashefilleduphiscartons,Istudiedeveryfeatureofhisface.Iwantedtoaskhimhowitfelttohaveslantedeyes,hairlikepineneedles,andcoppery-coloredskin.Whichonewashemore:Chineseorcolored?IfIwereVonetta,Iwouldhaveatleastaskedhimthat,asmuchasshe’salwaysinhisface.Iwouldhaveaskedhimsomethinginterestinginsteadof“Doyoulikeshortgirlsortallgirls?”

Iknewmycuriositydidn’texcusemystaringorwantingtopry.Afterall,Icertainlydidn’tlikequestionsaboutnothavingamother.SoIscoldedmyselfgood,whileHirohitofilleduphissecondcarton:Ishouldkeepmycuriositytomyself;Ishouldnotstareathislongblackeyelashesandcoppery-coloredskin.Besides,Icouldn’tgofromplanningtosockhimtoaskinghim

aboutbeingacoloredChineseboyinonegoodblink.ButbeforeIhadachancetolookaway,hecaughtmestaringathim.

“What?”

Igaveitback.“DidIsaysomethingtoyou?”Thankgoodnessyoucan’tseecherriesinachocolatebar.I’dhavebeenared-facedroseifnotformyHersheybrowncomplexion.

“Takeapicture.Itlastslonger.”

“Iwasnotlookingatyou,boy.”Girlpridemademeliehardandstrong.

Eunicegavemea“Weretoo”glare,butIcouldn’tletthisboythinkIwasstaringathimevenifhecaughtmered-facedbeneathmybrownskin.Icouldn’tletthisboywithslantedeyesandcopper-coloredskinthinkIthoughtathingabouthim.BecauseIdidn’t.

“Andifyoutrytorunmeandmysistersoffthesidewalkwiththatskateboard,I’mgoingtostomponyougood.”

Wewereaboutthesameheight,butIhadn’tmetaboyIcouldn’tthrowdowntotheground.Butthen,IwastallerthanalltheboysIknew.

“Iyelledforyoutogetoutoftheway.CanIhelpitifyou’reslow?”HewasnoEllisCarter,Anthony,Antnee,ortheotherboyswhotappedmefrombehindandran.Hespokecalmly,withnofearofmyboy-throwingabilities.

“Well,youshouldn’tbeskateboardingwherepeoplewalk.”

“Girl,that’snoskateboard,”hesaid,fullofwhatIguessedwasboypride.“That’smygo-kart.”

“Whocares,Chinaboy.”

Hegavemealooklikehewasgoingtodropbothcartonsandputuphisdukes.Oneeyebrowwentup.“Chinawho?”

Iwasgladhesaidthatbecausemy“Chinayou”shotoutrightontime.

Eunicejumpedinandsaid,“Foryourinformation,he’sblackandJapanese.Can’tyoutellthedifferencebetweenaJapanesenameandaChinesename?”

Ididn’tlikehavingmyignoranceshovedatme,especiallybythelikesofEuniceAnkton.ButthereIwas.Notknowingahalf-Chinesefacefromahalf-Japaneseone.Iwasn’tabouttogetabetterlooksoI’dknowthedifference.Lookingatthatstupidboygotmered-facedinthefirstplace.ThelastthingI’ddowasownuptomyignoranceandthenapologize.

IturnedtoEuniceasifHirohitoweren’tthere.“Idon’tcarewhatheis.

Hejustbetterwatchoutwhenhe’sridingthatskateboardonthesidewalk.”

Hirohitoturnedandstartedwalkingbacktotheclassroom.“Go-kart.”

Isaid,“Forgetyou,Hirohito.”

Hesaid,“Forgotyou,Delphine.”

ThenIsaidquicklytogetthelastlick,“Neverthoughtaboutyou.”

Eunicesaid,“Isthatwhatyouallsaywhereyoucomefrom?That’ssocorny.”

ForEunice’sinformation,therewasmoretothatrhyme.Swallowasnake,jumpinthelake,comebackhomewithabellyache.Itdidsoundcorny,soIkeptittomyself.“Idon’tcare.”

Shewalkedaheadofme.“IfyouknewaboutHirohitoandBrotherWoods,you’dleavehimalone.”

ThenIgotsuckeredintoaschool-yardcomebackIshouldhaveseencoming.“WhataboutHirohitoandBrotherWoods?”

Wouldn’tyouknowit?Eunicehadhips.ShemadesureIknewthatfactasshewalkedaheadofme.“That’sformetoknowandforyoutofindout.”

ExpertColoredCounting

VonettaandFernfiguredthatsinceItalkedmywayinsideCecile’skitchen,Ishouldfightharderforotherthings,namelytohaveatelevisionsetinthehouse.ItwasbadenoughknowingourCaliforniavacationwasn’tmuchtohangaback-to-schoolessayon.TherewerenoDisneylandridestowriteabout.NoHollywoodmoviestarsintheSafewaystoretosignautographs.Nosurfingatthebeachorshakingpeachesorplumsfromfruittreesinthebackyard.Therewasn’tevenalong-lostmamahuggingandcryingattheairport.

Isoonsawmysisters’point.Theleastwecouldhavewasatelevisionset.CartoonsonSaturdays,funnyshowsafterdinner,theeveningnewsandtrue-crimeshowsforme.Andofcourse,TheMikeDouglasShowfivedaysaweekbecauseMikeDouglasalwayshadNegroperformersonhisvarietyshow.OutsideoftheFlipperincident,wedidn’tfightoverTV,whichwouldmeanlessnoisetobotherCecile.IfsheboughtaportableTVset,wecouldputitinourroomandshewouldn’thavetoseeusforhours.Thenitwouldfeellikearealvacation.WatchinghoursandhoursofGetSmartandTheF.B.I.withoutBigMamakingusturnthesetoff.

OnceagainIfoundmycalm,steadyvoiceandbroughtourdemandstoCecileatournextsit-downdinner.That’swhatprotestersdid.TheybroughttheirprotestsongsandtheirdemandstotheEstablishment,becausetheEstablishmentwasincontrol.TheEstablishmentwassomeoneoverthirtyyearsoldwhohadthepower.Ididn’tknowCecile’sexactage,butshehadtobeoverthirty.That,plusherholdingontothemoneyPahadgivenus,hadmadeCeciletheEstablishment.Allweneededweresomeprotestsignsandan“orelse”thatwouldn’tmakeCecilemadenoughtohurtus.Withoutan“orelse,”protestersarejustpeoplewithprotestsongsanddemandswhodon’tstandachanceofgettinganything.TheonlythingsCecileseemedtocareaboutwereherpoemsandherpeaceandquiet.Theonlythingweseemedtocareaboutwasourtelevisionset.Armedwiththat,Ibroughtupoursoledemandandstoodreadywithourreasons,asifmySafewaySwerepressedtomychest.

Shesaid,“Nooneneedsatelevisionset.”

“Wedo,”Isaid.

“Tocatchourshows,”Vonettasaid.

“Yeah,”Fernsaid.“Tocatchourcartoons.”

“Andtheeveningnews,”Ithrewin.Youcouldpracticallyseethewholeworldontheeveningnews.

“AndMikeDouglas.”

“That’sright.WewantMikeDouglas.”

HowelsewouldweseeMotowngroups,JamesBrown,orArethaFranklin?

TheMikeDouglasShowwasn’ttheonlyplacetofindcoloredpeopleontelevision.Eachweek,Jetmagazinepointedoutalltheshowswithcoloredpeople.MysistersandIbecameexpertcoloredcounters.Wehaditdowntoascience.NotonlydidwecounthowmanycoloredpeoplewereonTV,wealsocountedthenumberofwordstheactorsweregiventosay.Forinstance,itwaseasytocountthenumberofwordstheNegroengineeronMissionImpossiblespokeaswellastheblackPOWonHogan’sHeroes.SometimestheblackPOWdidn’thaveanywordstosay,sowescoredhima“1”forbeingthere.WecountedhowmanytimesLieutenantUhuruhailedthefrequencyonStarTrek.We’deventaketurnsbeingher,althoughBigMawouldhaveneverletuswearaminidressorspaceboots.ButthentherewasISpy.Allthreeofustogethercouldn’tcounteverywordBillCosbysaid.Andthentherewasanewshow,Julia,cominginSeptember,starringDiahannCarroll.Weagreedtoshoutout“BlackInfinity!”whenJuliacameonbecauseeachepisodewouldbeallabouthercharacter.

Wedidn’tjustcounttheshows.Wecountedthecommercialsaswell.We’drunintotheTVroomintimetocatchthecommercialswithcoloredpeopleusingdeodorant,shavingcream,andwashpowder.TherewasalittlecoloredgirlonourfavoritecommercialwholookedjustlikeFern.Infact,IsaidthatlittlegirlcouldhavebeenFern,whichmadeVonettajealous.Inthecommercial,thelittlegirltookabiteofbutteredbreadandsaid,“Gee,Ma.ThisisthebestbutterIeverate.”Thenwe’dsayitthewayshedid,inherdead,expressionlessvoice;andwe’doutdoourselvestryingtosayitwiththerightamountofdeadness.Wefiguredthatthatwashowthecommercialpeopletoldhertosayit.Nottoocolored.Thenwe’dgetsillyandsayiteverykindofcoloredwayweknewhow.

WegaveCecileallofourreasonswhysheshouldhaveatelevisionsetinhergreenstuccohouse.Weevenshowedherhowitwouldgiveherpeaceofmindtodoherworkwithoutusbotheringher.Toourreasons,theEstablishmentsaid,“Televisionisaliarandastory.”Butweweren’treadyto

giveup.

“Theeveningnewscomesontelevision,”Isaid.“That’salltruebecauseit’sonthenews.”

Shegrunted.

“Andtheweathermangivestheweatherreport.That’simportant.”

Anothergrunt.

“AndtheMonkeesdothemonkey.”ThenFernswungherarmsupanddownandboppedherheadlikeago-godancer.

Cecilemadea“what”expression.Flummoxed.GoodoldFern!FernhadmanagedtocompletelyflummoxtheEstablishment.

Andthenwestartedsingingourprotestsong,chewingawayatherpeaceandquiet:“Herewecome.Walkingdownthestreet….”likeDavyJones,MickyDolenz,andtheothersingingMonkees.

ThenextdaywhenwecamebackfromtheCenter,wefoundaradioinourroom,thecordwrappedarounditsplasticbody.Itwasasho-’nuf,left-by-the-garbage-dump,secondhandradio.VonettaandFernsquealedasifthelittlecoloredgirlinthecommercialwerestandinginourroomeatingbutteredbread.

CivicPride

We’dbeenlearningaboutcivicssincethefirstgrade.TherewasalwaysafieldtriptothefirestationonHenryStreet.Wewatchedthesamefilmaboutthefiremen,policemen,andmayor,whokeptourcommunitysafeandorderly.Thefilm’snarratorremindedeveryboy—fromEllisCartertotheJameses,theAnthonys,andeveryotherpantswearer—thattheytoocouldgrowuptobeguardiansofourcommunity.Wegirlswereremindedthatwecouldlookforwardtobecomingteachers,nurses,wives,andmothers.Poetswerenevermentioned.

AttheCenterwehadacivicslesson.Wewerebeingtaughtourrightsascitizensandhowtoprotectthoserightswhendealingwiththepolice.SisterMukumbuusedtheword“policeman,”whileCrazyKelvin,whofilledinforSisterPat,preferredtosay“theracistpig.”Hebrokeourrightsdownstep-by-stepasiftherewasnotimetolose.AnygivendayapolicecarcouldstopmysistersandmeonourwayfromtheSafewaymarketandsearchourbagofgroceries.Wehadtobearmedwithourrights.

Asthelessonwenton,itseemedlikeallCrazyKelvinwantedwastogetustocallthepolice“thepigs.”HestartedwithHirohito.“Myman,Hirohito,whoknockeddownyourdoorandarrestedyourfather?”

Hirohito’sfacefelltothetable.HelookedworsethanwhenSisterMukumbuaskedhimtorevolveandspinaroundthesun.Hepickedataflakypieceofskinonhisthumb.NormallyI’dthink,Ew,nastyboy.Howdisgusting.InsteadIfeltsorryforhimwithCrazyKelvinpokingathim.

Hirohitoanswered,“Thepolice.”

CrazyKelvinsaid,“Thewho?”

Hirohitosaid,“TheOaklandpolice.”

Thatwasn’tgoodenoughforCrazyKelvin,whomwehadtocallBrotherKelvinintheclassroom.Helookedlikeabony,big-beakedchickengoing“Thewho?Thewho?”Itwaslikethetimeheshouted“blackgirl”atmysistersandme,whileweshoutedback“coloredgirl.”

Itdidn’ttakesharpeyestoseeSisterMukumbuwasannoyedwithherhelperandasusual,steppedintoputanendtoit.CrazyKelvinwassupposedtotalktousaboutourrights,nottostandtheregoing“Thewho?Thewho?”

Big-beakedCrazyKelvinwasn’tdone.Hesaid,“ThepigsbrokedownthedoorofaVietnamwarhero’shouse.Thepigshandcuffedhimwithoutrespectforhisrightsasacitizen.TheracistpigsthenseparatedBrotherWoodsfromhisfamilybecausehedaredspeakthetruthtothepeople.”

Hirohitotriedtoshownochangeinhisface,buthewaschangingontheinside,wherepeoplechangewhenthey’resadorangry.Helookeddirectlyatme,thenlookedaway.IfeltlikeIwassupposedtosaysomethingtohim,butIdidn’tknowwhat.

SisterMukumbuthankedBrotherKelvinforbeingourguestspeakerandshowedhimtothedoor.

Ferntuggedthehemofmytop.“Idon’tlikehim.Surelydon’t.”

IglancedEuniceAnkton’sway.Ihadjustfoundoutwhatshehadmeantwhenwewereoutbythewaterfountain.ThatHirohito’sfatherwasinprisonforspeakingouttothepeople.Hirohito’sfatherwaswhatSisterMukumbucalleda“freedomfighter”anda“politicalprisoner.”Although,nowthatIknew,Ididn’tfindanysatisfactioninhavingfoundout.

Imagine.TohaveyourfathersittingdowneatingdinnerorshininghisshoeswhilewatchingTV.Tohaveyourfrontdoorblownoffitshingesandthepolicerushin.Toseeyourfatherinhandcuffs,ledaway.

Hirohitodidn’thavetoimagine.Heknew.

Ihadbeenscaredonce.TrulyscaredforPapa.Ithappenedtwosummersago.BigMahadgonebacktoAlabamaaheadofustovisitfamilyandtakecareofherhouse.WehadpackeduptheWildcatandhaddrivendowntoAlabamasomysistersandIcouldstaythereforthesummer.Wehadbeendrivingallday,allnight.Talkaboutbeingalongwayfromhome.Ifweneededtostop,wefoundagasstationoranicecoloredfamilytoopentheirhometous.Aswedrovedeepersouth,downdarkhighwaysandevendarkerbackroads,IfeltlikeDorothyinTheWizardofOz.Itoldmyself,“Delphine,wearenolongerinBrooklyn.”

Papahadpulledthecarofftheroadsowecouldcatchafewhoursofsleep.IrememberVonettasnoringononesideofme,FernwithMissPattyCakeburrowedintomyside.SomehowImanagedtofindmyselfsnoringwithmysistersandPapa.Thentherehadbeenaloudrapagainstthewindow.Ballsofflashlightghostshadflownallaroundtheback-andfrontseats,alloverourfaces.Ithadbeenastatepoliceman.PapahadrolleddownhiswindowandshownthestatepolicemanhislicenseandsaidhewasdrivinghisgirlsdowntoseetheirgrandmainAlabama.Thestatepolicemanhadn’toffereddirections.Hehadn’tcalledPapa“Mr.Gaither,sir,”or“citizen”like

thehelpfulpoliceofficerinourcivic-pridefilm.IheardwhatthatstatepolicemancalledPapa.Ihearditallright.IheldontoFerntight,afraidforPapa.AfraidPapamighttalkbackorfightback.

WhenwehadarrivedatBigMa’s,I’dexpectedthatPawouldhavetoldBigMaallaboutit.Howwecouldn’tstopandpeeanywherewewantedto.Howthestatepolicehadrappedonthewindow.Whathe’dcalledPapa.HowPapahadn’thauledbacklikeCassiusClayandsockedthepoliceman’sjawintothenextcounty.Papacouldtellsomestories.Hespeaksthemsoplain,youbelieveeveryword.IknewPapawouldhaveentertainedBigMa.

WhenBigMaasked,“How’dthetripgo?”Pahadsaid,“Wemadeitdownsure’nuf.Youknow,Ma.Sameoldsameold.”

RallyforBobby

WhenSisterPatpinnedthepictureofBobbyHuttontothewallnexttotheotherrevolutionariesIlearnedwhohewas.IfinallyreadabouthimintheBlackPanthernewspaper.ThearticlereportedhowthepeoplewantedtonametheparkafterBobby.Thearticlealsoretoldwhathadhappenedtohim.IkindofrememberedhavingwatchedthenewswithBigMaafewmonthsagoandhearingabouttheshootinginOakland.Nowtheshootingseemedcloser.Morereal.

BobbyHuttonwasthefirstmemberoftheBlackPanthers,otherthantheleaders.Hewassoyoung,theBlackPantherleaders—HueyNewtonandBobbySeale—madehimgethismother’spermissiontojoin.HewasalsotheyoungestBlackPanthertodieforthecause.HewasonlysixyearsolderthanIwas.

ThenewspaperhadsaidhowthepoliceambushedtheBlackPantherswhiletheywereinacarandhowthePanthersfledinsideahouseforshelter.Thattherewasashoot-out.ThatthepolicefiredatthePanthersandthePanthersfiredatthepolice.ThatwhenLittleBobbycameoutsidetosurrender,andtookoffallhisclothesexceptforhisunderweartoshowhehadnogun,theyshothimanyway.Overandoverandover.ThatwasthispastApril.TwodaysafterReverendKingwaskilled.

AfterreadingaboutBobbyHutton,IhadbeguntolookaroundatthePantherswhohelpedoutattheCenter.Andtheyoungonesonthestreets,patrollingorpassingby.Ihadlookedrealhardatthemandhadseenthattheywereteenagersorwerealittleolder,likeSisterPatandCrazyKelvin.Icouldn’tstandCrazyKelvin,nevercalledhimBrotherKelvinorwentoutofmywaytospeaktohim.ButIdidn’twanttoseehimgetshotbecausehewaswearinghisOFFTHEPIGT-shirt.

Readingthatarticlehadmademebothangryandafraid.AngrysomeoneasyoungasBobbyhadbeenkilledandafraidthatifhecouldgetshotforbeingwiththePanthers,maybeitwastoodangerousforustobeattheBlackPanthers’summercamp.Afterall,theyweren’tteachingushowtodealwiththepolicefornothing.AndIwastallformyage.NoonewouldthinkIwasjustagirlgoingontwelve.ThepolicewhopatrolledtheCentercouldbechasingsomeone,burstin,shootfirst,andaskquestionslater.

Maybewedidn’thavetocometotheCentertolearnourrightsandtohavebreakfast.IfCecileletmecookdinnerinherkitchen,she’dletmefrysomeeggsorpoursomecerealinherkitchentoo.BeinginCecile’shousemighthavebeencrazy.Herhousemightnothavebeensmotheredwithlove.ButbeinginCecile’shousewasattheveryleastsafe.WewerebetteroffinthatgreenstuccohousewithCecile.

WhatwouldPapahavesaidifheknewIwasbringingVonettaandFerntoasummerschoolwherepolicecarsdrovebytoseewhatweweredoing?IwassupposedtolookafterVonettaandFern,notputthemindanger.

IwishedIhadn’topenedupthatnewspaper.IwishedIcouldgorightonthinkingwewerehavingbreakfast,paintingsigns,andlearningourrights.IwishedIdidn’tknowthatIwasmarchingmysistersintoaboilingpotoftroublecookinginOakland.Butitwastoolateforwishing.IknewfullwellwhatIknew.

IcouldbarelygiveSisterMukumbumyfullattention.ShesaidwewouldbeattendingarallytwoSaturdaysfromtoday.SomethingaboutfreeingHueyandnamingtheparkacrossthestreetafterLittleBobbyHutton.HearingBobbyHutton’snamehadshakenmeoutofmythoughts.MyhandshotupbeforeIhadwordsformedinmymind.Iknew“rally”meant“protest”andthat“protest”couldmean“riot.”Afterall,Ireadthepapers.Iwatchtheeveningnews.Aprotestwasneveralove-in.

SisterMukumbuwasstillsmilingwhensherecognizedme.IbetshethoughtIwasgoingtotalkaboutthenewspaperarticleorsaysomethingrevolutionary.Isaid,“I’msorry,SisterMukumbu.ButmysistersandIcan’tgototherally.”IknewIsurprisedherbecauseI’mnotan“Ican’t”kindofperson.Imightaswellhavesaid,“Wedidn’tcomeherefortherevolution.”

SisterPatsaid,“Don’tworry,Sis.IknowSisterNzila.She’llletyougo.”

IgotoverhersayingsheknewmymotherwhenIbarelyknewCecile.Besides,Ihadbiggerfishtofry.Isaid,“It’snotmymotherwho’ssayingno.I’msayingno.Wecan’tgo.”

ThenVonettacalledout,“Wecantoogototherally.”

AndFernsaid,“Wesurelycan.”

VonettaandFerndidn’tknowwhattheyweresaying.Theyjustdidn’twanttobeleftoutofanyactivityconcerningthoseAnktongirlsorthatHirohito,stillwearinghissameoldOaklandRaidersjersey.

SisterMukumbuaskedforrespectandorderintheclassroom.Wequieteddown.Shesaidshewouldspeaktomelaterandcontinuedtalkingaboutthe

rallyandhonoringBobbyHuttonandfreeingHuey.Thenshesaidtheverythingthatwassuretodefeatme.Shesaid,“Wehavebeenaskedtodoaspecialpresentationattherally.”

Mysisters’faceslitup.

“Wecouldperformaplay,doagroupdance,orrecitepoetry.Orifanyonehasaspecialtalenttodisplay,youcandothattoo.”

Iwassunk.“Talenttodisplay”wasenoughtoswayVonettaandFern.TherewasnowaytokeepVonettafromthrowingherselfonstageafterSisterMukumbusaidthosethreewords.

Vonettaisallhamandshow.Anyoccasion,evenariotinthemaking,wouldhavebeengoodenoughtoperformat.Fernisnobetter.Shesingslikeabird,iscute,and,likeVonetta,cannotresistthelureofapplauseandattention.

Idon’thaveanythingtobevainabout.Ihavenotalenttoshow.EvenifIdid,Ihavenodesiretothrowmyselfbeforepeoplefortheirapplause.IdancebecausethelessonsarepaidforandPapafeelsallgirlsshoulddanceballetandtap.Isinginthechildren’schoirbecauseBigMamakessurewemotherlessgirlsenjoyallthepityinglooksthechurchcanspare,whetherwewantthemornot.

Later,duringfreetime,Hirohitoandtheboysstarteddoingkarateandjujitsumoves.TheAnktongirlshuddledtotalkaboutwhattheywoulddofortheirspecialtalent.Fromthelooksoftheirgesturing,theywoulddanceanAfricandance.Theotherkidsjustplayed.IexpectedVonettatorunoffandjointheAnktons.ButVonettatoldFernandme,“Weshouldsingasong.”

Fernadded,“Weshouldsingasonganddoadance.”

BeforeIcouldsaywhyweshouldn’t,theystarted.

“WecanwaveourarmsprettyliketheSupremes.”

“AndwearourhairliketheSupremes.”

“OrwildlikeTinaTurner.”

“AndtheIkettes.”

“Ooh!Ooh!Wecansingoursong,”Vonettasaid.

“Yeah.Oursong,”Fernsaid.

IpretendedIdidn’tknowwhichsongtheymeant,butIknew.JusttomakesureIknew,VonettaandFernsangthefirstthreewordsto“DryYourEyes”oncue.

“No,”Isaid.

Theysanglouder.Fern’svoicesweetandhigh,Vonetta’sdrippyanddramatic.

“No,”Itoldthem.“We’renotsingingthat.”

Theyignoredmeandbeltedouttheheartbreakerpartwherethemothermustleaveherbaby.Thentheysangthela-laparts.

Bynoweveryonelookedourway,soIhushedVonettaandFern,whoseeyesshonewithlifeandsparkle.Ihadnohopeofreelingeitherbacktotheirgoodcommonsense.

“Wearenotsingingthatsong,”Isaidplainly.Totheir“Whynot?”poutingfacesIsaid,“Thispresentationisforthepeople.ForBobbyHuttonandHueyNewton.It’snotforsingingaboutyourbrokenhearttoyourlong-lostmother.”

ButtheyinsistedonBrendaandtheTabulations.Theyinsistedonlettingtheworldinontheirlongingforamotherwhowouldn’tcookamealforthem.

Iputmyfootdown.“Wecannotsingthatsong.”

“Cantoo,”theystarted.

Vonettasaid,“Andthenshe’llcometothetalentshowandseeusonstage.”

“Andseehowgoodweare.”

Itdidn’tseemrightthattheythoughtsinginganddancingwouldchangeCecileintosomeonewhocriedforherlong-lostdaughtersorfriedporkchopsandmadebananapudding.Cecilewasn’tthatkindofmother,ifyouwantedtocallheroneatall.Hernamemighthavechanged.Shemighthavebeenlivingontheothersideofthecountry.ButCecilewasplainoldCecile.JustcrazierandscarierthanIremembered.

Itoldthemoutright,“Wecouldsing‘DryYourEyes’likeBrendaandtheTabulationsanddanceliketheIkettes.Cecilewon’tcometotherallyandcheeruson.”

TheysaidIwaswrongaboutCecileandwrongaboutwhatwecouldandcouldnotsingforthetalentshow.

Isaid,“Thosepeoplearen’trallyingforaTVset.They’rerallyingtofreeHueyandtochangethenameofthepark.Themayor,thejudge,andthepolicearen’tgoingtojustsay,‘Finebyus.’There’sgoingtobetroublecookingattherally.”

Vonettasang,“Spoilsport.Worrywart.”ThenFernjoinedher.

Isaid,“Fine.ButI’mnotsingingwithyou.”

SisterMukumbusaidsheneededhelpwithsomething.Everyoneraisedhisorherhand,butshecalledmynameeventhoughIkeptmyhanddown.Icouldn’tsayIwassurprised.

SisterMukumbusaid,“What’stroublingyou,SisterDelphine?Whydon’tyouwanttoparticipateintherally?”

“SisterMukumbu,it’salldangerous.JustbeinghereattheCenterisdangerous.”

Shewassilentforawhile.“Isee.”Thatmeantshewasn’tgoingtolietome.Iwantedtostilllikeher.Icouldn’tifsheliedtome.

“Ihavetolookoutformysisters,youknow.”

SisterMukumbusaid,“Welookoutforeachother.Therallyisonewayoflookingoutforallofoursisters.Allofourbrothers.Unity,SisterDelphine.Wehavetostandunited.”

Iwasthinking,Alive.Wehavetobealive.Wouldn’tLittleBobbyratherbealivethanberemembered?Wouldn’theratherbesittingoutintheparkthanhavetheparknamedafterhim?Iwantedtowatchthenews.Notbeinit.ThemoreIthoughtaboutit,themoreIhadmyanswer.Wewerestayinghometomorrowandthenextdayandthedayafterthat.Wecertainlyweren’tgoingtobeinnorally.

EatingCrow

Thenextmorning,Cecilestoodoutsideourdoorandsaid,“It’snineo’clock.Whyy’allstillhere?”

Vonettapointedtome.“It’sherfault.”

Fernjoinedin.“Allherfault.”

“Shewon’ttakeustotheCenter.”

“Yeah.Shesaidwecan’tgonomore.”

Cecileturnedtome.“Delphine,whatdidyoudo?”

IspokeasplainlyasIcould.Therewasnouseinspeakingsmallmouthed.“ItoldSisterMukumbuwe’renotgoingtotheFreeHueyrallytwoSaturdaysfromnow,orcomingbacktotheCenter.”

“Why’dyoutellherthat?”

“It’sdangerous,”Isaid.“ThepoliceshotateenagerforbeingwiththeBlackPanthers.TheycouldshootBlackPanthersandkidsattheCenter.”

CecilelookedatmelikeIwasstupid,butalsowithdisbeliefthatIwasherdaughter.“Didanyoneshootatyou,Delphine?”Hervoicewascalmandclear.Notcrazy.

Ifeltstupid.“No.”

“Didtheypointagunatyou?”

“No.”

“Didanyoneputaguninyourhand?”

“No.”

Cecilesaid,“Y’allgetdressedandgo.Theymightstillbeservingbreakfast.”

Icouldn’tbelieveshe’dmakeusgobacktoaplacewherewecouldgetshot.ButthenIreturnedtomygoodcommonsense.OfcourseCecilewouldn’tcareifwegotshotupbythepolice.

ItoldCecile,“We’llgoforbreakfast.We’llgoforsummerschool.Wewon’tbegoingtonorally.That’sjustapotofboilingtroublecookin’.”

“Y’alltwo.Getinthereandbrushyourteeth.Washyourfaces.”Cecilecrookedherheadtowardthebathroom.AssoonasVonettaandFerngotupandlefttheroom,shesteppedinclosertome.Iwasgenuinelyafraid.

“Youwatchhowyoutalktome.Y’hear?”

Inoddedinreply,andIwasnonodder.

Shewouldn’tacceptmynod.“No,”shesaid.“Yougotamouth,soIwanttohearyou.”

Isaid,“Yes,ma’am.”Thatold-fashionedwordjustcrawledrightout.

Cecilegrunted.“That’stheproblemrightthere.Hismammy.Yousoundjustlikeher.Likeacountrymule.”IthinkthatsetCecileoffmorethanmysayingweweren’tgoingtotherally.MesoundinglikeBigMa.

Cecilewentbacktoherkitchen,fussingupafullsteamlikeshewastalkingtosomeone.Me.Thatshecouldn’thaveusheremessingupherpeaceofmindandthatshecouldn’tworkwithusinherhouse.Cecilecarriedonafullconversation,onandonaswewalkedoutthedoor.Crazy.

VonettaandFernwereonlytoogladtobeheadedtowardtheCenter.Theycouldn’tstoprubbingitin.

“See,Delphine,youcan’ttelluswhattodo,”Vonettasaid.

“Surelycan’t.”

“’Causewe’regoingtotheCenter,andwe’regoingtotherally.”

“Surelyare.”

“Andwe’regoingtosingoursong.”

“Anddoourdance.”

“Andyoucan’tbeinitwithus.”

ButFerndidn’tgoalongwithVonettaonthelastone,notthatIwantedtobeinit.Still,asmallpartofmewasglad.Fernhadalwaysbeenmine.

Iwasn’tinahurrytogoinsidewhenwegottotheCenter,butIfollowedmysisterswhentheypushedthedoorsopen.VonettaandFerncouldn’teatthelatebreakfastandrejoinSisterMukumbu’sclassfastenough.Ifoundmyselfdraggingbehindthem,feelingbadlyformyself.Nooneevercalledatake-back“eatingcrispyfriedchicken.”Theycalledit“eatingcrow,”andwithgoodreason.NotthatI’dactuallyeatenablackcrow,butwithmywordsstuckinmythroatandmyeyescastdown,Iknewwhateatingcrowwas.I

knewthathavingtoeatcrowwhenyouwereonceproudandrightwaslikeswallowingahunkoftough,chewycrowmeatthatwasn’tabouttogodowneasy.

SisterMukumbudidn’tmakemefeellikethenothingIknewIwas.Herbanglesjangledaboutherwristsasshewelcomedusbackintoclass.Everyonewaspracticingtheirpartsinaplayfortherally,andshesaidwehadarrivedjustintime.Theycouldusemoreactorsfortheclass’sreenactmentofHarrietTubmanleadingslavestofreedom.VonettawasmadbecauseJanicewastobeHarrietTubman.IknewI’dhearaboutVonettamissingoutonbeingthestaroftheplayforthenextsevendays.

Later,afterSisterPatledusthroughcalisthenicsintheyard,Eunicecameoverandsatwithme.“Thoughtya’llweren’tcomingback.”

“Weweren’t.”

“Thenwhy’reyouhere?”

Eunicehadalotofnerveandalotofmouth,askingmewhymysistersandIwerebackattheCenter.IhadnothingtosaytoEunice.Ialreadyfeltbad.

Ishrugged,althoughIwasnoshrugger.

“Youwerejustshowingoff,tellingSisterMukumbuhowyouandyoursistersweren’tcomingtotherally,likeyou’reincharge.”

“Foryourinformation,Iaminchargeofmysisters.”

“Ohyeah?Sowhyareyouback,then?”

ThelastthingIwoulddowastellEuniceAnktonthatwewereherebecauseCecileshooedusawaytowriteherpoems.

“’Cause,”Isaid.

Icouldn’tfigureoutwhyEunicesattherewithme.Itwasbadenoughtofeelstupid.Ididn’tneedanyonesittingwithmeremindingmeofit.

Mysisterswerehavingagoodtime.FernandtheyoungestAnktongirl,Beatrice,taughteachotherhand-clappingsongs.JaniceandVonettachasedafterHirohitoandhisfriends,buttheywereonlyafterHirohito.He’dzigleftandright,escapingthegirlseachtimetheycamewithintaggingdistance.FinallyJanicemanagedtotaghimandrun.Vonettawasupsetthatshehadn’ttaggedhimfirst,butthatdidn’tstopherfromcacklingandsquealingalongwithJanice.JaniceandVonettawereoneandthesamefool.

Eunicebeatmetomakingasoundofdisgust.

Isaid,“Iwouldn’thardlybechasingafternoHirohitoWoods.”

“Meneither,”sheagreed.

IhatedtellingherIwasonlygoingintothesixthgradewhenshewasgoingintotheeighthgrade.AtleastIwasaninchtallerthanshewas.Hirohito,shesaid,wasgoingintotheseventhgrade.

ItoldEuniceherdresswasnice.Thensheshowedmetheinsidestitching.OnceIsawthecrisscrossofhermother’sneathandstitchingIdecidedIlikedEuniceAnkton.Shewasn’tthebiggirlwhothoughtherclotheswerebetterthanmine.OrthegirlwhosidedwithHirohitoWoodsandmademefeelignorantfornotknowinghewashalfcoloredandhalfJapanese.Weweretwooldersisterswatchingouryoungersistersplayinggamesandrunningaroundmakingfoolsofthemselves.Wewereboththeoldestgirlsinourfamilies,andweknewthesamethings.

ItsyBitsySpider

Vonettacouldn’tstoppracticingherpoem.Well,itwasn’thers.ShegotitfromabookofNegropoetsattheCenter.Ifshecouldn’tsinghersong,shewouldreciteapoemallbyherself.

Itwasn’tenoughforVonettatosayherpoem,whichwasactuallyGwendolynBrooks’spoemtitled“WeRealCool.”Vonettatriedtobeherpoem.SincetherewasnoapplausefromFernandmethefirsttimearound,shestartedupagain,aszombielikeasshecould,toimitatethetoughsstandingaroundoutsidethepoolhall.IfBigMaheardVonettaandsawherstandinglikeashiftlessbumonthecorner,we’dbeonthenextplanebacktoNewYorkCity.Vonettawasintoagrooveandcouldn’tbestopped.Shestartedupyetagain,saying

“Werealcool.

Weleftschool.”

asloudasshecould,incaseCecilehadn’theardher.IwouldhavedonebothVonettaandCecileafavorbygivingheraswiftkick,butIdidn’tcareifCecileyelledather.Ididn’tcareifVonettadisturbedCecile’speaceofmind.SoIletVonettareciteonandon

“Werealcool.

Weleftschool.”

Vonettawasaperfectionist,butonlyaboutcertainthings.Thingsthatwouldgethernoticedorearnherapplause.BigMasaidVonettawouldn’tbesuchashow-offifCecilehadpickedVonettaupmorewhenshewasababyholleringinhercrib.Ididn’tneedaflashofmemorytorecallVonetta’scrying.Shecriedloudlyandalot.

OurdoorwasopenandCecilewasinthelivingroom,lyingonherbeat-upsofa.CecilecouldhearVonettaperfectlywell.Vonettahadsaidthispoemseventimessofar.Iwascertainheraimwastosayittentimeseachnight,butCeciledidn’tlethergetthatfar.IttookonlysixangryfootstompsforCeciletomakeitbacktoourroom.

“Cutthatcrapout.That’snotevenapoem.Icouldaknockedthatoutinmysleep.You’dthinkGwenBrookswassomesortofgenius.”Thenshe

stompedaway,thistimeintothekitchen.Iheardherhandssmacktheswingingdoorhard.

Backinthefourthgrade,myteacherwouldhaveuslayourheadsonourdesksafterwecameinfromrecess.Shewouldrecitepoetrytocalmusdownandgetusreadytolearnmorescienceorhistory.RobertFrost,EmilyDickinson,CounteeCullen,andWilliamBlake—allfinepoetswhomweshouldknow,she’dsay.Well,Iknewareal,livepoet.Ididn’tknowhowfineCecile’spoetrywas,butIhadseenherwritingpoemsinthekitchenandsometimesonthewallsoroncerealboxes.Whoelseinmyclassroomcouldclaimtheyknewapoetandthatshewastheirmother?So,ontheafternoonthatRobertFrost’shorsehadclip-cloppedthroughthesnow,I’draisedmyhandandtoldtheclassmymotherwasapoet.“Now,now,Delphine,”Mrs.Petersonsaid,“nicegirlsdon’ttelltheirclassmateslies.”She’dkeptmeafterschoolandtoldmesheknewthetruthabouthowmymotherhadlefthomeandthatwantingamotherwasnoexcusefordreamingoneup.Icouldn’tleavetheclassroomuntilI’dwritten“Iwillnottellliesinclass”twenty-fivetimesontheblackboard.AndthenI’dhadtoerasetheboardclean.

VonettasulkedsomethingpitifulwhenCeciletoldhertocutitout.Vonettaonlyheardthatherrecitationstunk.Shewasn’tthinkingabouthowGwendolynBrookswasagreatNegropoetandthatCecile,alsocalledNzila,wasprintingherownpoemsinherkitchen.

Lastyear,VonettapracticedhercurtsyingmorethanshepracticedherwingsandtimestepsfortheTipTopTaprecital.Shefellonherfannyinthemiddleofhersoloandwasmiserablefordays.UsuallyI’dpickupVonetta’sbrokenspiritsuntilshewasonceagaincrowyandshowy,butnowIlethersulkaftershereceivednopraisefromCecile.Servesyouright,Ithought.Justtobeevil,Irubbeditinwithaninsult.

“Idon’tknowwhyyourlipishanging,”Isaid.“You’rejustlikeher.”

WebothknewwhichherImeant.Isaidthattomakeherfeelmadontopofbeinghurt.JustlikeIknowhowtoliftmysistersup,Ialsoknowhowtoneedlethemjustright.

“Amnot.”

“Aretoo.”

Wedidafewroundsofthat,thenafinal“Not”and“Too.”

“Okay,Vonetta.SupposeyouweregoingtobeonTV.”

Sheperkeduponthatone.

“PlayingTinkerBellonWaltDisney’sWonderfulWorldofColor.Butit

wasPTANight.OrSchoolTalentNight.Andyourlittlegirl—”

“LootieBelle,”Fernaddedin.

“LootieBelle,”Ipickedup,gladtohaveFern’ssupport,“hadapartinTheItsyBitsySpider.”

“InherItsyBitsySpidercostume.”

“Andshe’dbeenpracticingherItsyBitsySpidersonganddancefordays.”

“Weeks.”

“Awholetwomonths.TheItsyBitsySpider—”

“Wentupthewaterspout.”IknewIcouldcountonFerntoclimbhighwithhertiny,sweetvoice.

Vonettasattheredefiant,unmoved,provingmypoint.ItwaslikelookingdeadatCecile.

“AshinywhiteCadillaccomestocarryyouofftobeTinkerBellonTV.Butyourpreciouslittlegirl—”

“LootieBelle!”

“LootieBelleisstandingatthedoorinhercostume,waitingforyoutotakehertoSchoolTalentNight.Whatwouldyoudo?”

“That’seasy,”Vonettasaid.“I’dgetintheshinywhiteCadillacwithmymatchingvanitybagandluggage.”

“Andwhataboutyourlittlegirlinhercostume?”Iasked.

“Yeah.WhataboutLootieBellinhercostume,wantingtodanceforhermama?”

Eachandeveryoneofusknewthefeelingofhavingnomotherclappingforusintheaudience.OnlyBigMaandsometimesPapawhenhecamehomefromworkintime.

CrowyandshowyVonettasaid,“Firstofall,Iwouldn’tdarenameheranythingassillyasLootieBelle.AndmylittlegirlwouldbehappyIwasaDisneylandmoviestar.Shewouldtellherjealousfriendsatschool,‘TheregoesmymotheronTV.I’llbetyourmotherjustfriesporkchopsandwringswetclothes.MymotherisonTVflyingaroundinbluefairydust,wavingamagicalwandinacutesparklyoutfit.’”

ThemagicofDisneylandhadwonFernovertoVonetta’sside.Itwasallofthatbluefairydustandmagical-wandstuff.Fern’seyestwinkledasshe

imaginedhavingacoloredfairymother.IwaslookingtogetVonetta’sgoat,butIonlyendeduplosingFern.AndVonettawasheroldself.

“Andthat’swhyyou’relikeCecile.YouwanttobeafairyonTVmorethanyoucarehowyourkidswillfeelandiftheymissyou.”

“Donot”and“Dotoo”wentonbetweenusuntilCecilestompedbacktotheroomandsaid,“Cutthatcrapout!”

MovableType

WehadanotherlongdayattheCenter.WhenIcameintothekitchentomakespaghettithatevening,therewasastoolbythestove.ItwaslikeeverythingelseCecilebroughtintohergreenstuccohouse.Secondhand.Still,itwasunexpected,andIwelcomedit.Inormallystoodbythestovequietlywhilethefoodcooked.Myfeetalwaysached,butInevercomplained.Instead,Ishiftedmyweightfromonefoottotheotherandlearnedtomakequick-cookingmeals.Cecilehadallowedmeinsideherkitchen.She’dletmecookdinner,washdishes,andcleanupaftermyself.Butshedidn’treallywantmeintherewithher.Shedidn’twantmestretchingmyneckoverherway,rippingopenthepeacewithanytalking.

Thestoolmadethingsdifferent.Itwasaninvitationformetositdownandbethere.Nottalk.Justcook.Be.Asthespaghettiboiled,picturesflashedinandoutofmymind.FlashesofsittingwithCecileandbeingquiet.Itwasthewelcomethathadbroughtmeback.ThatI’dsatwithherbeforeanditwasallright.Notinthiskitchen,butinthekitcheninBrooklyn.BackwhenSarahVaughanfilledthehousewithhersmokyvoice,Vonettawasfarawaycryingtobepickedup,andCecile’sstomachwasbigwithFern.

Iwouldn’tbeexaggeratingifIsaidIwasbornknowingwhattodowhenIsatwithCecile:Don’tcry.Stayquiet.Wantnothing.Icouldtalk,butI’dlearnedthat,aslongasIwasquiet,Iwasallowedtostaywithherwhileshetappedagainstthewallwithherpencil,wroteandwroteandsaidherrhymesoverandover.Don’tcry.Stayquiet.Wantnothing.

ThenFernhadcome,anddayslaterCecileleft.BigMahadmovedinandtoldPa,“Thatgal’sdumbasadrypump,”meaningme.Cecilewouldn’thavemindedifIhadbeenborndeafandmute,butCecilewasgone.BigMawasanotherstory.IquicklylearnedtospeakuparoundBigMa.

Afterweateourspaghetti,Iwashedthedishesandwipedthesinkdown.

Cecilesaid,“I’dletyouhelpmeifyourhandswereclean.”

Myhandswerealreadyclean.Ihadjustfinishedwashingdishes.ButIsoapedthemwithdish-washingliquid,thenrinsedanddriedthem.

“Standoverhere.”

Istoodwhereshetoldme.Foralongwhilethatwasallshesaid,thatIstandrightthere.Ilookeddownonaflatframewithwoodenblocks.Onthewoodenblocksweremetallettersfacingbackward.Backward?Theyspelledoutwords,linebyline.Butyouwouldhavetobeabletoreadbackwardtoreadthelines.

Iwantedtobeabletoreadthem.Onthecounternexttotheprintingmachinewasanewlyinkedsheetofpaperwiththewordsprintedintherightdirection.

MovableType

Pushhere

Imove

there

Push

there

Imove

twosquaresover

Buythosesquares

fromundermy

feet

Ilandon

thefreesquare.

Raisemy

Rent

I

Pica

Elite

Courier

SansSerif

Packlight.Leaveswift.

I’mthattype.

Imove.

NZILA

Shetookthesheetandhungituptodry.

“I’mgoingtopressdownandrollthecrank,”shesaid.IfiguredIwouldcatchon.

Sheturnedtheleveronthesideoftheprintingmachine.Herweightpressedintothemachineanddownonthemetalandpaper.Therollersspunslowly.Thepaperpusheditswayoutontothetrayofbackwardletters.

Whenthepaperwasfullyinked,Ibelievedshewaspleased.Notthatshewassmilingorjollyorsinging.Butshelikedwhatshehaddone.Shestudiedherprintedsheetandheldituptothelight.Thepoeminblackink.Hername,Nzila,inspecial-shapedletters:large,curved,lovely,andgreen.

IthoughtaboutCecile’spoem.Ifigureditwasabouthowshewasthetypetonotbestill.ButIbelievedshelikedthisgreenstuccohouse.Ithinkshelikedbeinginthiskitchen,motheringandprayingoverthisbigmachineandtheseblocksofbackwardletters.ThiswasCecilebeinghappy.

“Seethishere?”

ImusthavemadeamovelikeIwasgoingtotouchit.

Cecilespokesharply.“Isaid‘see,’not‘touch.’See.”

Inoddedandputmyhandsbehindmyback.Iwasusedtobusyhands.Todoing.Ididwhatshesaid.Ilooked.

“Thosearetherollers.Youfeedthepaperthroughtherollers.Youfeediteven.Ifit’scrooked,it’sawasteofpaper.Youcrankitsteadyorit’sawasteofpaper.Wasteofink.”

Iwatchedherfeedthepaperbetweentherollersandturnthecrank.Eachtimetheinkspreadevenlyonthepaper.Shehungeachsheettodry.

“Go’head.”Shepointedtothepaperandtherollersandthecrank.

Ialmostdidn’tmove.

“Comeon.Let’sseeifyoucanfollowdirections.”

Itookasheetfromthepaperstackandhelditfromendtoendsoitwould

goineven.NomatterhowmuchItoldmyselftokeepsteady,myhandsmadethepapershake.Iwasmadatmyownhands.Ididn’twantCeciletothinkIwasafraidofdoingwrong,butIwas.

Ididn’tlookupathertoseeifIhaddonerightinhereyes.Ijustdidwhatshesaidandturnedthecrankslow,hard,andsteadyuntilthepapercameoutontheotherside,Ihoped,fullyinked.

SheheldupmynewlyprintedsheetandpointedtoaspotontheNin“Nzila”thatmissedtherollers.Sheshookherhead.“Awasteofpaper.”

SanFranciscoTreat

Ceciledidn’tcarewherewewentorwhatwedidonSaturdaysandSundays,aslongaswestayedfarawayfromherpeaceandquiet.Ourfirstweekend,wehadplayedGoFishandtic-tac-toeinourroomandwaitedforCeciletoannouncethatweweregoingtosomeadventurousplacethatexistedonlyinCalifornia.BythesecondweekendIknewwehadtohaveaplan.SincethesunrosehighthatSaturday,Ifigureditwasagooddaytogotothebeachandcollectseashellsforsouvenirs.Vonetta,Fern,andIhadputonourbathingsuitsandsunglasses,andI’daskedCeciletotakeustothebeach.IhadneverspokenMartiantosomeoneandhadthemgivemethelookthatcouldonlybegiventoaMartian.Insteadofansweringourquestion,Cecilegaveusalookthatsaid,Whoareyouandwhatplanetdidy’allcomefrom?Iendeduptakingmysisterstothecitypool,whereweswamandsplashedaroundwithoutthinkingaboutallthatchlorinewaterknottingupourhair.Whenwe’dcomebacktoherhousesmellinglikechlorine,I’daskedCecileifIcoulduseherhotcombtopressourhair,seeinghowknottyitgot.

I’dexpectedshe’dsaynooutrightbecauseI’dsmokeupherpreciousworkplacewithhairburningfromthehotcomb.Infact,I’dexpectedanofollowedbyan“Ididn’tsendfory’allinthefirstplace.”Ithadn’toccurredtomethatCeciledidn’townahotcomborcurlingiron,eventhoughthatfactwasasbigandthickasherunpressedbraids.She’dsaid,“Naughty?Yourhairain’tnaughty.Itain’tmisbehaving.It’sdoingwhatGodmeantittodo.”ThatwouldhavebeennewstoBigMa.WeneverenteredthehouseofGodwithoutourhairpressedandsmellingofDixiePeachhairgrease.

ForourthirdSaturdayinOaklandIhadabetterplan.Itoldmysisters,“We’regoingonanexcursion.”MissMerriamWebsterwouldhavebeenproud.Excursion.ToVonetta’sandFern’suncomprehendingfaces,Isaid,“We’retakingabusridetoourownadventure.”Itdidn’tmakesensetoflythreethousandmilestothelandofMickeyMouse,moviestars,andall-yearsunandnotseeanythingbutBlackPanthers,policecars,andpoorblackpeople.Iwasn’tfoolishenoughtosetoutforHollywood,Disneyland,orthebeachwheretheyfilmedHappening’68withrockandrollerslikePaulRevereandtheRaiders.Instead,IplannedthatwewouldspendournearlylastSaturdayinCaliforniatravelingacrossthebaytoSanFranciscotorideacablecarandseeChinatown,Fisherman’sWharf,andtheGoldenGate

Bridge.Now,thatwasanexcursionworthyofaback-to-schoolessay.Evenifwedidn’thaveacameratotakepicturesofusonouradventure,wewouldknowwe’dbeenthere.

Itoldmysisters,“Don’tsayaword.Justletmedoallthetalking.”EventhoughIknewCeciledidn’tcare,Ididn’twanthertosuddenlytakeaninterestinusandaskalotofquestions.Ifsheaskedquestions,I’dhavetospinalotofstraw;andIcouldn’tspinalotofstrawandlookherinthefacethewayI’dliketo.LikeI’melevengoingontwelveandIknowwhatI’mdoing.

“Cecile,weneedmoney.Ihaveall-dayactivitiesplanned,andwehavetoeatwhilewe’reoutdoingouractivities.”

“Yeah,gottaeat.”

IturnedtoFern.Don’tsaynomore,Fern.Shegotit.

“IfIpourcerealforthembeforewego,”Isaid,“I’llonlyneedchangeforthebus,andsomelunchmoney,andalittleextraifyouwantusgonelong.”

Cecilealmostraisedaneyebrowbutnotquite.Shefiguredwewereuptosomethingbutprobablydidn’twanttoknowthedetails.

Shereachedintoherman’spantsandpouredalotofnickels,dimes,pennies,andsomequartersintomyhands.Ineededbothhandstogeteverycoin.Shedealtoutelevensingledollarsfromawadofbillsandgavemethosealso.Iwassogiddyabouthavingallofthatmoney,Ijustdumpeditinmyshoulderbag.Icouldsortitoutlater.JustbytheweightofthesilverandcopperIknewwehadmorethanthefifteendollarsI’dcountedonusgetting.

IatemycerealandwashedthedisheswithmyshoulderbagslungaroundmyneckBrooklyn-style.Thebestwaytoloseyourmoneyistoholdyourbagofftheshoulder,butthisway,withthebagslungcrosswise,youwerereadyforanything.

Aswewerewalkingoutthedoorexcitedaboutourexcursion,Cecilecalledout,“I’mnotcomingdowntonopolicestationifyou’reouttherestealing.Y’allhavetospendthenightinjail.”Thatwasasgooda“Besafeandhaveagoodtime”asweweregoingtogetfromCecile.Wetookitandleft.

Outside,theyardsandstreetswerefilledwithscreamingkidsplaying.ItwasallIcoulddotokeepVonettaandFerninlineformyfullyplannedexcursion.Ihadworkedtoohardwritingeverythingdowntohavethemnotwanttogo.IhadaskedSisterPataboutthebusandcablecar.Ihadgottenallthesightseeinginformationfromthelibrary.Iwasn’tabouttoletakickball

gameandsomeBarbieteapartiesthrowmile-longpoutsonVonettaandFernbecausetheywantedtostayhereinblack,poorOakland.

Thentheworstpossiblethinghappened.Hirohitocameramblinguptousonhishomemadego-kart.Heskiddedtoastopusinghishigh-topsneakers,rightatVonetta’sfeet.Shesquealedandlaughedandsaid,“Whatchaknow,Hirohito?”ThatwassomecutethingsheandJaniceAnktoncameupwith.Iwassickofhearingit.

“Delphine.Wanttowatchmeflydownthathill?”

“No,”Isaid,whilemysistersscreamed,“Yes!”

IglancedatmyTimex.Don’tstandtherewatchingHirohitoonhisgo-kart,itsaid.TheEastBaybusleavesintwelveminutes.Youdon’thavetimeforthat.

VonettaandFernfoldedtheirarmsandwouldn’tbudge.TheywatchedHirohitodothatrunandflopontotheflyingTandgobumpity-bumpdownthehill.Whenhenearedtheendofthehill,hedraggedhissneakerslikeFredFlintstoneandcametoafullstop.Thenhejumpedupandturnedtous,waving.VonettaandFernwavedback.

“Let’sseehimdoitagain,”Vonettasaid.

“It’saboygoingdownthehill,”Isaid.“Weseenitalready.Let’sgo.”

Icouldn’tsayitwasthrilling,howhejumpedonthatboardthingandrolleddownthehill,twistingtheTleftandrightandthenswervingitaround.Icouldn’tsayhowIadmiredhimfornotcryingabouthisfatherbeinginprisonandfortryingtobeanormalkid.IfyouwantedtocallHirohitoWoodsnormal.Icertainlydidn’twantVonettatogetthewrongideaandthinkIwasasstuckonHirohitoassheandJanicewere.BecauseIwasn’t.Hewasjustaboy,andIdidn’twanttomissthebustoouradventure.

OurbuspushedoutofpoorandblackOakland,wherelinesformedforfreebreakfastsandmenstoodaroundbecausetherewerenojobsandtoomuchliquor.Weweregladtobegoing.Eachofuslookedoutandoffintodifferentdirections,takinginallthatwecould.Finallywewereonourwaytoanadventure.

IwatchedFern,gluedtothebuswindowandsingingtoherself.IwonderedifshemissedMissPattyCakeatall.Howsheloved,loved,lovedMissPattyCakelongbeforeshecouldwalk.SheteethedonMissPattyCake’sarmsandlegs,ateherhairwhenshedidn’tknowbetter,squeezedher,sleptwithher,fedher,andsangtoher.SevenyearsoflovingMissPattyCake

andnownotonementionofher.

IcanstudyeverymoveFernmakesandstillnotcompletelyknowher.TherearejustthingsIdon’tunderstandaboutherthewayIunderstandVonetta.AfterMissPattyCakehadbeendamagedandputaway,Isleptlightly,expectingFerntoawakenduringthenightmissinghertruelove.NotthatIwantedFerntobeheartbroken.Ididn’twanthertolovesomeoneallherlifeandthennotloveorwantthematall.Evenifhersomeonewasadoll.Thatwasnowaytobe.

IwantedtosaysomethingtoFern,butthenshecuppedherhandaroundhermouthandsquealedanOoh!likeshe’dseensomethingbad,likeanakedladyrunningdownthestreet.Itwasthatkindofan“ooh”squeal.

“What,Fern?”

Hereyesstayedbig,herhandoverhermouth.VonettaandIkeptgoing,“What,Fern?What,Fern?”

Sheswallowedagulpofairanduncuppedhermouth.“Isawsomething.”Shesaiditagain,andhadgonefromagogtobeingpleasedwithherself.“Isawsomething.”Sheclappedtothebeat.Clap,clap,clap,clap.

Nomatterhowmuchweasked,Fernshookherheadno,clappedherhands,andsanghersong:“Isawsomething.”

Fernwaspleasedshehadseensomething,Vonettawassureshehadn’tseenathing,andIrememberedhehadsaid“Delphine.”Delphine.Wanttowatchmeflydownthathill?

WishWeHadaCamera

OncewearrivedinSanFrancisco,Fernstoppedsinging“Isawsomething,”andwestoppedaskinghertotelluswhatshehadseen.Wegotoffthebusandweregreetedbyhippieshangingoutbythebusstop.Itwasn’trighttostareatthemliketheywereinanexhibit,butwecouldn’thelpit.Wedidn’tseemanyhippiesinBrooklyn,notwherewelived;andtherewasawholetribeofthembeforeus.Allkindsofmostlywhitehippieswithlong,hanginghair.Youcouldn’tmisstheguyinthegreen,red,andwhiteMexicanponchoorthemoppyhaircoveringhisface.I’dhavecalleditanAfroexceptitwasonawhiteguy’shead.Iwonderedifthatmadeadifference.

Thehippiessatonthegrass.Onereadasmallbook.ThreegirlsswayedwhilePonchoManplayedhisguitar.Theymusthavebeenoutprotestingandweredonefortheday.Theirsignslayonthegrass:PEACE.BANTHEDRAFT.MAKELOVE,NOTWAR.

Iwishedwehadacamera.

“Peace,sweetsoulsisters.”PonchoMandippedhisheadasifpointingtohisopenguitarcase.

Idon’tknowwhatmademesayit,butinsteadof“Groovy,man”or“Peace,”Isaid,“Powertothepeople.”

ThenVonettasaid,“FreeHuey.”

AndFernsaid,“Yeah.FreeHueyNewton.”

Thatwaswhenwemether.TheFlowerGirl.Wehadfinallyseenone!Therewereallkindsofsongsontheradioabouthippiegirlswithflowersintheirhair.Shehaddaisiesinherhair;andshedriftedovertous,hereyesalldreamyasshedancedinherflowing,paint-splattereddress.ShetookadaisyfromherhairandgaveittoFern.ThenshehadtogiveonetoVonetta,becauseVonettawasn’tabouttobeoverlooked.

“Peaceispower,sweetsoulsisters.”

Wewantedtocrackupbutsavedthatforlater.WetooktheflowersanddroppedtwonickelsandfivepenniesinPonchoMan’sguitarcase.EventhoughIcouldhavefigureditout,IaskedhimwhereGrantStreetwas.Hepointedeast.Wegavethehippiesthepeacesignandthepowersignand

walkedovertoGrantStreet.

Wewereexcitedbythesightofmetalrailsinthestreet.Thecablecarwassecondonmylistofactivities.OurfirstactivitywassightseeinginChinatown.

Youknowwhenyou’reinChinatown.ThebuildingsarejustliketheyareinChina.“That’satemple,”Itoldmysisters.IhadseenthepicturesinNationalGeographicmagazineandintheencyclopedia.Nothingcomparedtoactuallyseeingtheroofs,liketiledlampshadesorhats.Dragonsofeverycolor.Gold.Red.Blue.Green.Pink.Bigheadswithlargefangs,bigeyes,monstrouspaws.Weneededacamera.

Wesharedaplateofdumplingsanddrankfreetea.Noneofuscouldkeepthedumplingsbetweenthechopsticks,soweusedforks.Afterthatwefoundaplacewherealltheydidwasmakefortunecookies.Theyletuscomeinandwatchtheladiesslipfortunesinsideflatyellowcookiedough,thenfoldthedoughover.Weboughttenfortunecookiesforadollar.Ourfirstfortunesaid,Youwilltravelfar.Isaid,“Wealreadydid.”Still,Iputeachpink-and-whitestripofpaperinmyshoulderbagassouvenirs.NowwecouldsaywehadrealChinesefortunecookiesinChinatown.

Wegawkedatallthewindowofferings.GreenstatuesthatIlearnedwerecarvedjade.Chinadolls.Fans.SilkandsatindresseswithNehrucollars.Ialmostfeltbadaboutnothavingmoremoneytospend.

“Iwantakimono,”Vonettadeclared.

“Metoo.Ablueone,”Fernsaid.

“AkimonoisJapanese,”Isaid,asifIknewthedifference.“Andwe’reinChinatown.”

“It’sthesamething,”Vonettasaid.“AndIwantone.”

“Itisnot,”Itoldher.“Andwehavefivedollarsexactlyforsouvenirs,soyou’reoutofluck.”

WhilewewerearguingaboutwhatwasChineseandwhatwasJapanese,Inoticedthisfamilyoffivetallblondpeoplestandingnearus.Ididn’teyeballthemdead-on,butIknewtheywerestaringatus.

Myheartthumpedfast.Itwashappening.Thatbadthingthathappenedtokidswhowentonexcursionswithouttheirmother.ItriedtoshushVonetta,whothoughtshewaswinningourdisagreement.Ihadtogetmysistersawayfromthesestarers.Andthen,whatwouldItellthepolicewhentheyaskedaboutourmother?Wewerecooked.

WhenIturned,Ifoundthefivepeoplesmilingatus,theirfacesmade

longbyhighcheekbonesandlong,whiteteeth.Theywaved.

I’dseenwhitepeoplebefore.OnTV.Atschool.Everywhere.Thesepeopledidn’tlooklikeanywhitepeopleIhadeverseen.Eventheirskinwaspaler,theirhairmorewhitethanyellow.Ilistenedastheyspoketooneanother,probablyaboutus,usingflugal,schlugalwords.Then,insteadoftakingpicturesofalltheChinesepeopleandthetemplesanddragons,theypointedtheircamerasatus.Vonettastartedtoposemoviestar–stylewithonehandbehindherheadandtheotheronherslimhip.IgrabbedVonetta’sandFern’shandsandsaid,“Comeon.”

IcheckedmyTimex.Itwasalmostoneo’clock.ThatmeantourtimeinChinatownwasupandwehadtogoontoournextactivity.Arideonthecablecar.Wedashedovertowheremetalrailsranalongthestreetandwaited.Sureenough,atoneo’clockonthenosewewereontoournextactivity.Acablecarridefromthetip-topofChinatownallthewaydowntoFisherman’sWharf.Weclimbedaboard,andIpaidourfare.Westoodbecausestandingwouldbemorefungoingdownthathill.Andwhatahillitwas.Itwasathrillinglookdown,down,down.Thestreetsrolledlikeadancingdragon.Hirohitodidn’tknowthefirstthingaboutahill.

Weneededacameratogetthishill.Howsteep.Howlong.Werodeitallthewaydowntothewharf,cheeringwitheveryclangofthebell.

Wewerenownearthewharf.Therewerepalmtrees—realpalmtreeswithsturdytrunks.Downhere,palmtreesmadesense.Theystoodaspalmtreesweresupposedtostand.Reachinguptothesun,branchesspreadoutwide.Notlikeasicklychild,toosmallandslouchedoverinsomeone’syardinblackOakland.

Whenwegotoff,wecouldseetheGoldenGateBridgeperfectlywell,butwetookturnslookingthroughthetelescoperightthereonthewalkway.Gazingouttothebridge,IfeltwhatIalmostfeltontheairplane.Itwasthepureexcitementofseeingtheworld.EventheseagullswereseagullierthantheonesthatflewandsquawkedaroundConeyIsland.Thesewide-wingedbirdsseemedbiggerandmajestic,bothclose-upandfaraway.Ormaybeitwasthatwecouldseeandsmelltheoceanandthetar,salt,andwoodfromthewharf.Ibreathedindeeptogetitall.Toobadtherewasnowaytocapturethewharfsmellinajartotakewithme.ForaminuteIforgotIwaswithmysisters.ThenIrememberedwhatPapahadsaid,andIstoppedmyselffromfallingintothewhiffofsaltairandflyingoffwiththeseagullslikesomedreamyflowergirl.Iwashappytobethere,andthathadtobegoodenough.Therewasnoneedtogetglazeeyedandforgetful.

Westoppedinagiftshoponthewharf.Themanbehindthecounterset

hiseyesonusreallyhard.AtfirstIthoughtitwasbecausewewerebyourselves,soIwhisperedtoVonettaandFerntobeextrawellbehaved.ButthenIheardCecile’slastwordsinmyhead.Hishardstarewasfortheotherreasonstoreclerks’eyesneverletup.Wewereblackkids,andheexpectedustobeinhisgiftshoptosteal.Whenheaskeduswhatwewanted,IansweredhimlikeIwasattheCenter,repeatingafterSisterMukumbuorSisterPat:“Wearecitizens,andwedemandrespect.”

IgrabbedFernbythehandandsaid,“Let’sgo.”

IhadthatBlackPantherstuffinme,anditwaspouringoutateveryturn.Ifigureditwasallright.Papawouldn’thavewantedmetospendourmoneywhereweweren’ttreatedwithrespect.ButIwassureBigMawouldhavewantedustosay“Yes,sir”and“Please,sir”toshowhimwewerejustascivilizedaseveryoneelse.

Wewalkedfartherdownthewharfandfoundanoldladywithawoodencarttobuyoursouvenirsfrom.Shecarriedmostlypostcards,silverspoons,thimbles,andtinydrinkingglassesthatsaidWELCOMETOSANFRANCISCO.Hercartwasn’tasniceasthegiftshop,butshewastoothlessandhappytogetournickelsanddimes.Sincewedidn’thaveacamera,Ithoughtbuyingtenpostcardsforfiftycentswouldbethenextbestthing.Itoldmysisterstoeachpickoutthreepostcards.OnetokeepasareminderofourSanFranciscoexcursion,onetomailtoPaandBigMa,andonetosendtoUncleDarnellinVietnam.I’dfigureoutlaterwhatwe’ddowiththeleftoverpostcard.AtleastnowwefinallyhadsomethingtoshowforflyingallthewaytoCalifornia.

WetookthecablecartothebusstopandtooktheEastBaybusbacktoOakland.Wetalkedandtalkedaboutallthethingswehadseenandthehippiesandthetallblondwhitepeopleandtheredandgoldendragonsandthesteephillsandthecablecarandseagullsanddumplingsandeverything!Wouldn’tCecilebesurprisedwhenwetoldherwherewewent?

ThenIfeltbadbecausewedidn’tgetheranythingfromthesouvenircart.Ihadn’tthoughtofheratall,andguiltbegantohaveitswaywithme.Itoldmysisters,“We’reselfish.Wedidn’tbuyanythingforCecile.”Beforewegottooquiet,stewinginourselfishness,Vonettasaid,“Shewouldn’twantitanyway.”GoodoldVonetta!FernandIagreedwithher.“Surelywouldn’t.”

Inaway,IwasgladtobebackinblackOakland,thesunstillshining.AsmuchasIlovedouradventure,Iwasalwaysonthelookoutinbetweenjustlooking.Here,Iknewwhereeverythingwas:theCenter,thepark,thelibrary,thecitypool,Safeway,andMeanLadyMing’s.Noonestared,unlesstheywerestaringbecausetheydidn’tlikeyourshoesoryourhairstyle.Notbecauseyouwereblackortheythoughtyouwerestealing.Asmuchaswe

neededtogooffandhaveourCaliforniaadventure,itwasnicetobeback.Evenifitwasn’tourrealhome.IstillcarriedmyshoulderbagBrooklyn-style,butitwasnowlighterandIwasn’tworried.

WestoppedinsideMeanLadyMing’sandgaveherallthechangewehadleftexceptfortwodollarbills.“Whatcanwegetwiththis?”

MeanLadyMingyelledsomethingmeanbacktothekitchen,andintenminuteswehadabrownbagsmellingoffriedriceandchickenwings.Ifiguredonedayoftake-outfoodwouldn’thurtanything,buthonestly,Iwastootiredandhappytocook.IwasanxioustotellCecileallaboutourvacationday.IwantedtoshowoffhowwellIhadplannedeverythingdowntotheminute,thatIknewwhattodo;andIwantedtoseeifshecared.

Wewereablockawayfromthegreenstuccohouse,chattingandlaughing.Thenwestoppedwalking.Allthreeofus.TherewerethreepolicecarsparkedoutsideofCecile’shouse.Oneinthedrivewayandtwoalongthecurb.Policemenlinedthewalk.Lightsflashedontopoftheircarsontothestreets.Red,white,andbluelightseverywhere.Weinchedup,thehappinessknockedoutofus.

CecileandtwoBlackPanthers.Handsbehindtheirbacks.Handcuffed.Beingledoutofthehouseanddownthewalkway.Icouldhardlybreathe.

TheClarkSisters

WewereonlyafewhousesawaywhenVonettasaid,“Hey!”IcouldfeelFernwantingtoleapout,readytocallout,butIpulledherbackandshushedthemboth.

“Whatabouttheirrights?”Vonettasaid.

“Yeah.Weknowaboutrights,”Fernsaid.

“Justshhhh,”Isaid.Myheartwaspounding.“They’rePanthers.They’regrown,”Isaid,althoughIdidn’tthinkCecilewastrulyaPanther.“Theyknowtheirrights.”

“But—”

ItoldVonettatobequiet.Wewerenowcominguponthehouseandallthepatrol-carlightsflashing.

Cecilewasalmostastallasthepolicemanwhowalkedhertoaflashingpatrolcar.Hebentslightlytotellhersomething.Shesaidloudly,“Kids?Idon’thavenokids.TheybelongtotheClarksdownthestreet.”Shewouldn’tevenlookatus.

Wewerenowcloser,wherethepolicecouldreallyseeus.Withmyshoulders,arms,andlegsexactlylikehers,Vonetta’sI-don’t-careeyesexactlylikehers,andFernasmallerversionofVonettaandme,Isaid,“She’snotourmother.I’mDelphineClark.”

“I’mVonettaClark.”

“I’mFernClark.”

“Andwelivedownthestreet.”

“WithPaandBigMa.”

“Yeah.Downthestreetinabluestuccohouse.”

“Notwiththislady,”Isaid.

“Notwithher.”

“Surelydon’t.”

TheyhadalreadypushedCeciledownintothebackseatofthecar.

IsaidtomysisterswithoutlookingatCecile,“Comeon.”Wewalkedpastourmother.Walkedwithourbagoffriedriceandchickenwingsasfaraswecouldwithoutlookingback,myheartstillpoundingandthesmellofthefriedfoodmakingmesick.

WhyhadthepolicearrestedCecile?Shewrote“SendusbacktoAfrica”poemsand“MovableType”poems.Shedidn’twrite“OffthePig”poemsand“KillWhitey”poems,thatis,ifwritingpoemswereacrime.

ItwasjustasSisterMukumbuandCrazyKelvinweretryingtoteachus.InOaklandtheyarrestedyouforbeingsomething.Sayingsomething.Ifyouwereafreedomfighter,soonerorlateryouwouldbearrested.

Fernasked,“Why’dshesayshedidn’thavenokids?”

“Shehadto,”Isaid.

“Why?”

“Theywouldhavetakenusaway,splitusup,andputusinjuvieorsomething.”

Fernsaid,“Idon’twanttogotojuvie.”

Vonettasaid,“Shesuresaiditreallyeasy.‘Kids?Idon’thavenokids.’Itwaslikeshesaid,‘Cooties?Idon’thavenocooties.’”

Iremindedher,“AndwesaidweweretheClarksrealquick.Realeasy.”

“Iwasfollowingyou,”Vonettasaid.

“Metoo,”Fernsaid.

“Well,wehadtosaythat.Didyouwantthemtosendustojuvenilehall?OrcallPaandBigMaandworrythemtodeath?We’dhavetowaitinjuviehalluntilPaorBigMacamefromNewYorktogetus.Youwouldn’tlikejuviehall.It’sjustlikejail.”

Bythetimeweturnedaroundandstartedback,thepolicecarshaddrivenoffwithCecileandthetwoBlackPanthers.

Iletusin.Icouldn’ttellfromthelivingroomwhathadhappenedbetweenCecile,thepolice,andthetwoBlackPanthers.ThedoorhadnotbeenkickedinlikeithadbeenatHirohito’shouse.Ceciledidn’thavemuchinherhousetobeginwith.ThenIpushedopenthedoortothekitchen.OutofhabitVonettaandFernstayedinthelivingroomuntiltheyheardmegasp.Theyfollowedquicklybehindmeandtimidlypeeredin.

Blackandredinkwassmearedacrossthefloor.Tornandscuffed-upwhitepaperwingscoveredthefloor.Drawershadbeenrippedoutofcabinets.

Largeandtinyblocksofmetallettershadflowneverywhere.BlocksofmetalEs,Ss,As,andTs.Paper,inkeverywhere.Theprintingmachinetoppledover.Rollersknockedout.Legsfrommysecondhandstoolcrackedandsplitofffromthewoodenseat.

Allwecoulddowastakeitin.VonettaandFernwereseeingtheinsideofthekitchen—Cecile’sworkplace—forthefirsttime.Iwasimaginingwhathadhappened.HowCeciledidn’twanttheminherhouse.Inherworkplace.Wheresheonlyallowedme,andonlyatadistance.Thatthepolicemighthavetouchedherpapersorpickedupherletterswithclumsycophands.CecilemighthavegonecrazylikeIknewshecouldhave,insteadofsaying“I’macitizen,andIhaverights.”SheandtheBlackPanthersmighthavedemandedtoseethepolicemen’ssearchwarrant.Shemighthavereachedouttoprotectherpoems.

ThebrokenstooltoldmemorethanIwantedtoknow.

Ifoundthreeforks.Twoonthefloorandoneinthesink.Iwashedthemalongwiththreeplates,andwewentbackouttothelivingroom.VonettaspreadCecile’stablecloth,andwesatdowntoeat.Isaidtheblessing,askingGodtoprotectCecilewhileshewasunderarrest,andthenweate.MeanLadyMinghadthrownintwoextrachickenwings,andthatwasgoodbecausewewerehungry.Hungry,shookup,andtired.

“WehavetocleanupCecile’skitchenbeforeshecomeshome.”

“Why?”Vonettaasked.“Wedidn’tmessitup.”

“Wesurelydidn’t,”Fernsaid.

“We’recleaningthekitchenjustbecause.”

“Because?”theysaidtogether.

“BecauseitshouldlookrightwhenCecilecomeshometomorrow.”

IexpectedalotoflipfromVonetta,withFernonherside.Iexpectedustogobackandforth,themsaying“Ohno,we’renot,”whileIsaid“Ohyes,weare.”

InsteadVonettaasked,“Whatifshedoesn’tcomehometomorrow?WhatiftheykeepherlockeduplikeBrotherWoods?”

“Yeah,”Fernsaid.“Theycouldkeepherandneverlethergo.”

Theywereright.ThepolicecouldkeepCecilefordays.Evenlonger.

Mysisterswaitedformyanswer,butforthefirsttimeIhadnostrawto

spin.Icouldonlyclearawaythefood,plates,andforks.

IBirthedaNation

Ididn’tcarewhatBigMasaidaboutscrubbinglikeagalfromaone-cowtownnearPrattville,Alabama.Onlyturpentinecouldwipeawaytheblackandredinkthathadseepedintothelinoleumfloortiles.IwipedupalltheinkIcouldbeforewewenttobedthatnight.Everythingelse—thepaper,themetalletters,andthemessthepolicemade—wouldhavetowaituntilwewokeup.Thedayhadbeenjusttoolong.

WhenIpushedthekitchendooropeninthemorning,theroomdidn’tlookanybetter.StreamsofsunlightshotthroughCecile’scheapcurtainsandpointedoutDelphine,yougotawholelotofworktodo.Alot,girl.

Iwassettodoit.Pickup,putaway,cleanandmopeverything.ButIwasstilltired,whichdidn’tmakesensetome.Ihadsleptevenlongerthanusual.YetallIcoulddowassighheavilywhenIsawtheinsideofCecile’skitchen.Everythingthatmademetall,able,andreadytodowhathadtobedonemademesigh.Ipickedupthebrokenstool—theseat,legs,andscatteredwoodchips—thenbroughtthepiecesouttothetrashcan.TherewasnothingIcoulddoabouttheprintingmachine.Itwastooheavy.Iusedallmystrengthtositituprightonthefloor.Iwipedtherollersandlaidthemontopofthemachine.ThenIcalledVonettaandFernoutofbedandputthemtoworkhelpingme.

WithoutasquawkVonettagatheredupallofthepaper—andtherewasaheavysnowfallofpaper.Shemadedifferentpiles.Thescuffedanddirtypaperswentinonepile.Therallyflyerswentinanother.ThesheetsofpoetrywithCecile’spoetname,Nzila,printedonthebottomwentinanother.Vonettaspentmostofhertimeseparatingoutthedifferentpoems;andinbetween,shereadthem.

IhadFernhuntaroundthefloorforthemetallettersandputthemuponthetablewheretheprintingmachineoncesat.IneverrealizedhowmanymetallettersCecilehadinthedrawersandkitchencabinets.Shehadboxesandboxesofthem.Largeandsmallcapitalsandlowercaseletters.DifferentsizesandtypesofTs.Somemoreboxy,somemorecurved.SomeslantedbutnotlikeHirohito’seyes.Slantedlikealeaningflowerstemonasunnyday.SomeOsandQsandCslongandnarrow.Othersroundandsquat.Allsizes,alltypes.Allover.Wasthis“movabletype,”likeherpoem?Eachletterfreetobeflungtoallfourcorners?

ThenFernfoundtwoofCecile’sspecialletters.Theonessheusedforherpoetryname.TheNandtheZ.IfoundtheI,L,andA.Ipolishedthosewiththedishtowel.Thesewereaspecialtype.Tallandcurved,hooksontheends,theZcoiledbacktostrikelikeasnake.Inallhercollection,theseweretheonlylettersofthiskind.Iwouldn’tbesurprisedifshehadthrownouttheothertwenty-oneletters,oriftheseweretheonlyonesshehadbought.Justsothatonlyhernamecouldbespelledoutwiththeseletters.

Imoppedtheflooroncethepapers,letterblocks,andmesshadbeenclearedaway.Webroughtallofthelettersandboxesintothelivingroomandspreadoutthetablecloth.WespenttherestoftheafternoonsortingthroughCecile’sletters.Itwaslikeagame.Findingtherightletters,therighttype,therightsize.Iputthe“Nzila”lettersinoneboxbythemselves.Wedidn’tknowifthatwastherightway,butatleastitwasaway.VonettatookoutoneofCecile’spoemsandreadittous.

“Ithinkit’saboutus,”Vonettasaid.“Lookatthetitle:‘IBirthedaNation.’”

“Youmightberight,”Isaid.

“Surelymightbe.”

Vonettasaid,“Weshoulddothispoem.”Shereaditagain.Itwasagoodpoemforrecitingoutloud.Thesameway“WeRealCool”wasagoodpoemforreciting.Andthenwejoinedher.Eachofustakingaline,oneaftertheother.Thenwechoseourownstanzabutrecitedthelastonetogether.WedecidedCecile’spoemwasinawaylike“DryYourEyes.”WedecidedthatitwasaboutMotherAfricalosingherchildrenlikeCecilehadlostus.Ididn’tremindmysistersthatCecilehadleftus.

Thentherewasaknockonthedoorandwefroze.WerememberedwewereinCecile’sgreenstuccohousewheretheBlackPanthershadcomeandthepolicehadcomeandCecilehadbeenarrestedandweweresupposedtobetheClarksistersdownthestreet.NotCecile’sdaughtersrecitingherpoemsinherhouse.

Webecamelikespies.Imouthed,“Bequiet,”andhopedwhoeverwasatthedoorwouldgoaway.Theyknockedagain.Iputmyfingertomylips.ThenVonettapoppedupherheadandlookedthroughthecurtain.

“It’sHirohito!”shecriedout.“WithanOrientallady.”

Ididn’tknowwhattobe.MadatVonettaforbeingherHirohito-crazyself.RelieveditwasHirohito.Nervousaboutthelady.

Icrackedthedooropen.

Hirohitosaidloudly,“Openup,Delphine.It’sme.Andmymom.”

Hismother?Ilookedatmysisters.Mysisterslookedatme.Vonettaflappedherarmswildly,wantingmetoopenthedoor.Ididn’twantto,butIdidanyway.Hirohito’smotherwasholdingapanwithtinfoiloverit.ThenIfeltrudeandstupid.“Hello,”Isaid.“Youcancomein,butmymotherisn’thome.”

Ihadneversaidthattoanyonebefore.“Mymother,”inarealway.

VonettaandFernwereallsmiles.

Iclosedthedoorquicklyaftertheysteppedinside.

“Iknowyourmotherisn’thome,Delphine,”Hirohito’smothersaid.“Iknow.”

“She’llbehomesoon,”Isaid.“Maybetomorrow.”Thetruthwas,Ididn’tknowanythingaboutCecileandwhytheyhadtakenherorhowlongshewouldbegone.

“Look.Mymommadethisfood,andI’mhungry.Let’seat.”

Tothat,Mrs.WoodsgaveHirohitoaslapagainsttheheadandsaidsomethingtohiminJapanese.Hesaid,“Mom,I’mhungry.”

Iwasembarrassedthatwedidn’thavetablesorchairs.Icertainlydidn’twantthatgoingaroundtheCentertomorrow.Wehadbeenlaughedatenoughforonesummer.ButHirohito’smotherdidn’tblinkoncewhenIsaid,“Wealwayseatonthefloor.”SheputthetinsonthefloorwhileIgottheplates,forks,andthebiggestservingspoonIcouldfind.VonettaandFernjustgiggledandkeptaskingHirohitotosaysomethinginJapanese.Herolledhiseyes.

Wesatdownandatefriedporkchops,rice,andstringbeans.IwantedtoeatnicelylikeMrs.Woodsate,butIatehungrilylikeCecile.Hirohitoatehungrilyalso.Hescoopedmorericeandstringbeansontohisplate,andseeingthatIwasnearlydone,hescoopedmorericeandstringbeansontomine.Icouldn’tlookupathim.Ijustate.

Mrs.Woodssaid,“Weknowthesamethings.Wehavetosticktogether.”

StoresoftheNoSayers

IgavewhatfewflyersCecilehadprinteduptoSisterMukumbu.She,SisterPat,CrazyKelvin,theladieswhoservedbreakfast,andeveryoneelseallknewthatNzilahadbeenarrested.SisterMukumbusaidweshouldstaywithheruntilNzilawasreleased.

Itwasfunnyhowthingschanged.IfCecilehadbeenarrestedwhenwefirstarrivedinOakland,IwouldhavecalledPa,andPawouldhavemadesuremysistersandIwereonaplanebacktoNewYork.NothingwouldhavemademehappierthantoleaveCecileandOaklandbackthen.Butwehadn’tgottenwhatwecamefor.Wedidn’treallyknowourmother,andIcouldn’tleavewithoutknowingwhoshewas.Icertainlydidn’twanttotellBigMathateverythingshehadsaidaboutCecileforthepastsevenyearswasright.ThatCecilewasnokindofmotherandhadgottenherselflockeduptoproveit.ItwasbadenoughtohearBigMasupposingoutloudeverykindofselfishtroubleCecilewastangledupin.Dayin,dayout,I’dneverheartheendofit.AndtherewasnotellingBigMathatCecilewasafreedomfighter,oppressedbytheMan.Dayin,dayout,BigMawouldgivemyearahurtingoverCecile.

No.Icouldn’tcallPayet.WhatifCecilewerereleasedtomorrow?

IthankedSisterMukumbuforherofferandtoldherasquietlyasIcouldthatwewerestayingwithHirohitoandhismother.Icertainlydidn’twantEuniceandhersisterstoknowwewerestayingattheWoods’house.AlthoughVonettapromisedtokeephermouthshut,Ididn’tthinkshecouldholditin.AnythingtomakeJanicejealous.“Ourmotherwillexpectustobehomewhentheyletherout.Shewon’tbetoohappyhuntingaroundtownlookingforusifwe’renothome.”

SisterMukumbusaidwewouldbesaferwithMrs.Woodsthanbyourselves.SisterPatadded,“TheManisstillwatchingthehouse.”

IaskedSisterMukumbuwhyourmotherhadbeenarrestedinthefirstplace.Shesaidthepolicewerereallyafterthetwowhohadbeenarrestedwithher.Shealsosaidourmotherhelpedtospreadthewordbyvolunteeringherprintingservices.“Informationispower,”shetoldmeasifwewerehavingalesson.“Keepingthepeopleinformedkeepsthepeopleempowered.”

Cecilewasn’texactlylikeHirohito’sfather,goingaroundspreadingthewordandtellingthetruth.Shefussedaboutprintinganythingotherthanherpoetry.Ididn’ttellSisterMukumbuthat.Andhonestly,IbelievedshesaidthataboutNzilagivingpowertothepeopletomakemefeelgoodaboutseeingmymotherbeingtakenawayinhandcuffs.

CrazyKelvinhelduphisfistandsaid,“Staystrong,myblacksisters.Holdyourheadsup.”

Vonettagavehimthepowersignback,butFernpointedathimandsaid,“What’swrongwiththispicture?”

HelaughedlikeFernwasasillylittlegirl.TosomeoneKelvin’sage,shewasjustthat.Asillylittlegirl.Tohischuckle,Fernsaid,“Goodboy,Fido.”Thenshebarked.“Arf!Arf!”

VonettaandIwereembarrassedandpuzzledbyFerncallingKelvinoutlikehewasadogandthenbarkingathim.Ipulledheraway.

Fernlaughedandhummedherbussong—“Isawsomething”—andclappedherhands.

AfterwepracticedbeingledtofreedombyJaniceAnktonasHarrietTubman,SisterMukumbuannouncedwewoulddocommunitywork.WewouldtakeSisterNzila’sflyersoutintothecommunityandaskstoreownerstodisplaythemintheirwindows.Eachofushadtopresentourselvestothemanagerorowner.Weweretoberespectfulandclear:“Goodafternoon.WearefromthePeople’sCentersummercampandareparticipatinginthepeople’srally.Weareaskingyoutohelpthepeopleofyourcommunitybydisplayingourflyerforthepeople’srallythisSaturday.”Olderkids,likeEunice,Hirohito,andme,alsoincludedinformationaboutfreesicklecellanemiatesting,voterregistration,freeshoesforthepoor,supportingHueyNewton,andchangingthepark’snametotheBobbyHuttonPark.Ifstoremanagerssaidyes,weweretothankthemandtapeaflyertotheirwindow.Iftheysaidno,weweretoleavejustasrespectfullyaswecame.“Headsuphigh.Walkingtall,”SisterMukumbusaid.

Hirohitowasupfirst.HewenttoSaintAugustine’sChurchandgavehispresentationtoapriestheseemedtoknow.Hirohitohaditeasy.ThepriestseemedtobeonlytoohappytotakeHirohito’sflyer.Itfigured.Thechurchservedfreebreakfastsandgaveawaybagsoffoodtopoorpeople.Theywere,asSisterPatmightsay,“downwiththecause,”orasHueymightsay,“carryingtheweight.”Still,Hirohitocongratulatedhimselfasherejoinedthegroup.

IwassupposedtoaskMeanLadyMing,butIknewshewouldsayyestome.Isaid,“Fern,MeanLadyMinglikesyou.Gogether.”Ifollowedbehindherbutkeptmydistance.Ferncouldn’trememberallofherspeech,butwhatshesaidwasgoodenough.“Goodafternoon,MeanLadyMing.Wewouldliketoputthepeople’sflyerinyourwindowforthepeople’srallythisSaturday.FreeHuey.Powertothepeople.”MeanLadyMingwasn’trankledbythenameFerncalledher.Hercomplaints,allinChinese,soundedjustlikehercomplaintsaboutcustomerswhowantedextraducksauceorafreeeggroll.Thatdidn’tstopherfromtakingFern’sflyerandtapingitupinthewindow.

VonettaandJaniceAnktonapproachedtheShabazzBakerytogether.Anothereasypresentation.ThebakeryhadpicturesofMalcolmXandBlackPowerslogansonthewall.Itdidn’tmattertoeitherVonettaorJanice.Theybothcameoutofthebakerywavingtheirarmslikehomerunhitters.

Black,white,Mexican,orChinese.Bigstores,littlestores.Someshooktheirheadsnorthandsouth,someshooktheirheadseastandwest.Therewereotherswho,inthemiddleofourpresentations,simplypointedustothedoor.Inthosecasesespecially,SisterMukumbupraisedusforhowwellwepresentedourselvesandforhowweleft.Respectfully,withourheadsheldhigh.

BothEuniceandIwentfortheharderones.Storesofthenosayers.Placeswhereweweren’tguaranteedalistenorasmile.We’dbothheardnobefore.Thehardenedlooksofgrown-upswhodidn’tlikekidsorblackpeople,orkidswhowereblack,werenothingnewtous.

AfterEunice’sthirdno,SisterMukumbupulledherasideforalittlechat.Eunicehadahip-switchingwayaboutherwalkthatwouldhavegottenmespokentobutgoodbyBigMa.Whenthestoremanagerssaidno,Eunicewouldsay“Thankyouanyway”thesamewaywe’dsay“Forgetyou,forgotyou”ontheplayground.Thenshe’dwalkherhip-switchingwalkonoutoftheirstore.

IsaidIwouldgointotheSafewaystoreandfindthemanager.Surelythegrocerystoreworkershadseenmysistersandmeskippingthroughtheaisleswithourbasket.Iwentuptothemanagerandsaidinmycheeriestvoice,“Goodafternoon.IamfromthePeople’sCentersummercamp,andIbuydinnergroceriesatthisstore.”Ithrewthatoneinthereforgoodmeasure.JustasIwastellinghimabouttherallyandhowgooditwouldbeforthecommunity,hesaidnoandsomethingaboutitbeing“againststorepolicy.”Buthedidlookfriendly.HedidsmileandthankusforshoppingatSafeway.

Ihadnohipstoswishawaywith.Instead,mylonglegscarriedmedown

theproduceaisle,pastthebreadaisle,andoutofSafeway.Ihadbeenkeepingalistoftheeast-westnosayersandputSafewayattheverytopofit.Mysisters,Cecile,andIwouldeateggrolls,whiterice,beanpies,andfriedfishbeforewespentanotherpennyinthestoresofthenosayers.

GloriousHill

Ididn’tknowwhichwasweirder.HavingHirohitoseemeinmypajamasornothavinganychorestodo.Itriedtowashdishesandalwaysofferedtomopthefloor,butforthefifthdayinarow,Mrs.Woodssaid,“Gooutside.Play.”

IfeltlikeawatcherwhileHirohitochasedVonettaandFernaround.Isatontheporchwithmybookinmylap,gladI’dbroughtitalong.Inbetweenturningpages,I’dpeekatVonetta,Fern,andHirohitoplayingMotherMayIorfreezetag.Heknewjusthowtoescapetheirtagsandkeepthegamegoing.IcouldseewhyHirohitoputupwithVonettaandJaniceattheCenter.WhyheletFernchasehimandtaghim“it”whenshewasn’tfastenoughtocatchhim.Hirohitohadnobrothersorsisters.Helikedbeingabrothertomysistersandme.

GratefulthatHirohitowouldsoontirehis“sisters”out,Isettledintomybookontheporch.Icouldfinishthechapterbeforeitwastimetocomeinside.Ireadmybook,brighteyed,breathingheavily,androotedforRontutowinagainstthepackofwilddogs,hisformerbrothers.Get’em,Rontu.Get’em.Ididn’thearthequiet.Thatthesoundsofplayingintheyardhadstopped.Ilookedup,andtheywereallstandingaroundmewithHirohito’sgo-kart.

“Hey.Delphine.”

VonettaandFerngiggled.ObviouslytheywereapartofHirohito’splantosneakuponme.Hesmiled,pleasedtohavecaughtmeunaware.

“Wanttotryoutmygo-kart?”

Irolledmyeyesandtriedtoappearolder.Aboveplayingkidgames.“Me?Onthatthing?”

VonettaandFernstartedscreamingthattheywantedaride.

Hetappedmysneakerwithoneofhisdoggedyhigh-tops.“It’sfun.You’lllikeit.”

BeforethisweekIwouldhavesaid,“HowdoyouknowwhatI’dlike?”Mygoaltocomeoffboredandolderslippedrightoutfromunderme.Inside,IfeltlikeIwasbeingpulledontothesixth-gradedancefloor.Iwantedtogivehimmyhandandlethimpullmeup,butIfelttoobig.Treelimbed.Plain

faced.I’dprobablylooksillyonthatgo-kart,justlikeI’dlooksillymatchingstepswithsomeboyinthemultipurposeroomatschool.

Iglanceddownatthatsawed-offpieceofwoodrestingontopofametalframewithskatewheelsupfront.Tricyclewheelsintheback.Aropeononeend,acarpetsquareontheother.IhadneverseenHirohitositonthecarpetsquare.Healwaysrodebellydown,armsspreadout,andhandsgrippingtheTbar.Itwasawonderhewasn’tallscarredup.

“Boy,youmustbecrazy.”

“Stopbeingchicken.Youcansteerit.Thoselegs’llreachtheturnbareasy.Justholdontotheropeandkeepitsteady.”

VonettaandDelphinesnickeredatHirohito’scarefreechoiceofwords.

Icouldn’thithimforcallingmealong-leggedchickenafterIhadgobbleddownhismother’sfishandrice.Isaid,“Iamnotgettingonyourstreetroller.Noway.”

Insteadofsaying“Notonyourstreetrollercoaster”or“Yeah.Noway,Jose,”mysisters’voicesfailedtocometomyrescue.Instead,VonettaandFern—mostlyVonetta—screamedanddancedaroundus,pleadingtotakemyturnonthego-kart.

Hirohitoshookhishead,sorelydisappointed,likehewasPapa.“Ididn’tthinkyouwerescared,Delphine.”

“Iamnotscaredofthatthing.”Myvoicehitnotesitwasnotknownforreaching.

“Thencomeon.”

“No.”

“Chicken.”

“Iamnot.”

Heofferedtheropetomeandpattedthecarpetseat.“Justablock.Notevenahill.”

Icouldn’tlethimthinkIwasweakandscared.Girlprideandalowervoicesaid,“I’mnotafraidofnohill.”

BeforeIknewit,wehadbecomeamerryparade.Mesittingonthego-kart,myfeetonthebars,Hirohitobehindmepushing,andVonettaandFernattherear,paradingupMagnoliaStreet.Whatasight.Isathunchedover,holdingontotherope,mybigsneakersontheturnbar.AllIcoulddowaswraptheropetighteraroundmyhandsandpray.

HowcouldIfindmybalance,letalonetrustit?Surelybalancewasneededtorideonthatrollingcartofdanger.Wherewasmygoodcommonsense?ThecommonsensethatBigMaalwayspointedoutIwasbornwith.Iwasmadatmyselfforlettingthishappen.Lettingthempushmeintoridingdownsomehillonthiswooden,bumpy,hotrodroller.Icouldfalloveronmybutt.Scrapeeveryinchofskinonmylegs,arms,andhands.Icouldlookastupid,scraped-up,tangled-upmess,andontopofitall,screamlikeafraidycatinfrontofmysisters.

Ihuggedtherope.Myheartpoundedthroughmyears,downinmytoes.

Noneofthatconcernedanyoneontheparaderoute.Hirohitopushedhappily.Mysistersskipped,clapped,andsang.Theymightaswellhavebeensinging“Crash,Delphine.Crash.”

ThenHirohitostoppedpushing.Nowthetipsofmyfingerspounded.Wewereatthetop.Thevery,verytopofthehill.

Hirohitolookedatmelikethiswasallfine.Notlikehewasgettingmebackforbeingmeantohim.Mykneeswouldknockiftheyweren’tfrozen.Iwantedtogetupandwalkaway.

“Don’tworry.It’ssafe,”hesaid.“Mydadbuiltit.It’ssturdyandhasnosplinters.Hesandeditdownfordays.Goodjob,right?”

“Right,”Isaid.

“Ihelpedhim.”HeturnedtheTpartsoitswiveled.“Realaxlefortheturns.It’sgoodforracing.Butdon’tworry,”hesaidagain.“Youjusthavetogostraight.Keepitsteady.”Henoddedandsmiled.“Mydad’sgreat.”

Idoubtedhemeanttogetallgirlytalkingabouthisfather.Hecaughthimselfandchangedhisvoice.

“Ready,Delphine?”

Ididn’tanswer.

Hesaid,“Useyoursneakerstoslowdown,thenstop.Justdrag.”Thenheliftedmyfootandputitintherightposition.Thepositionthatwouldturntheheelsofmysneakersasdoggedyashis.“Remember,youdon’thavetosteer.It’sastraightridedown.Justslideyoursneakerlikethis.”Hemovedmyfootslightlysideways.Itwasawonderhehadsolesatall.

Hetoldmetoholdontight.ThenheorderedVonettaandFerntocomeonasifhehadtakenmyplaceastheoldest.Partofmedidn’tlikeitonebit.Theotherpartdidn’thavetimetothinkaboutthat.

“Push!”

VonettaandFernscreamed,“Yay!”andIlookedup,mad,scared,thrilled.

Ifeltsixhandsonmybackandthebumpygroundbeneathme.Withallthatrumbling,myheadspunwiththesheercrazinessofitall.Beingpusheddownthestreet.MysistersandHirohitocheeringandpushingandlettinggoandtimenottickingbutracingaway.

Itwastoolate.Toolatetojumpoffwhilethego-kartrolled,itssteelskatewheelshittingeverybumpandpebbleonthesidewalk.Ileanedleftandright,tryingtofindmybalance.Thenforward.Left,right,andforward,mydrawn-upkneeshelpingtokeepmesteady.

Therewasacurveinthesidewalk.Notexactlystraight,likeHirohitotoldme.Tomeitwaswinding,anddangerousliketheChinatowndragon.Asthego-kartwentfaster,Ifelttherumblingofthewheelshittingtheconcreteunderneathme.Iscreamed.SoloudIstartledmyself.Ihadneverheardmyselfscream.Screamedfromthetopofmylungs,fromthepitofmyheart.ScreamedlikeIwassnakingandfalling.Screamedandhiccuppedandlaughedlikemysisters.LikeIwashavingthetimeofmylife,flyingdownthatglorioushill.

Vonetta,Fern,andHirohitohadrunafterme,butHirohitohadoutrunmysistersandmetmeattheotherend.Whenwewerealltogether,Hirohitoledtheparadeofhim,Vonetta,andFern,hootinganddancingaroundme.

TheThirdThing

Whowouldhavethoughttwentyflyerscouldhavebroughtmorethanathousandpeopletothepark?TalkaboutagrandNegro,well,agrandblackspectacle.Peoplesimplycame,fillingupeveryinchofgreeninthepark.Someevenclimbedoaktreesandperchedinbranchesforagoodspot.EverywhereyouturnedtherewerecollegestudentsinT-shirts,signingpeopleupforsicklecellanemiatestingandvoterregistration.BlackPanthersfromaroundthecountry,inskyblueT-shirtswithpicturesofblackpanthersonthem,stoodtall,patrollingthepark.Policemenalsostoodtall,holdingontotheirwoodenclubs.

AndyetIwasn’tafraid.Iwasexcited.

“Yousee,”SisterMukumbusaid,wavingherbangledarmlikeawandoverthehundredsofpeople,maybeathousand.

IfeelashamedoftheprideItakeinironingacreaseextrasharp.Ironingasharpcreaseisajobwelldone.Bringingpeopletothisrallywasmagicthathadyousoaringabovetrees.Itcertainlywasworthmarchinguptothenosayers.Inmymind,allthesepeoplecametotherallybecauseoursummercamphelpedtospreadtheword.Theideaofradioannouncements,theBlackPanthernewspaper,andword-of-mouthhadn’tenteredmymind.IfonlyCecilecouldseewhatwe’ddone.AndPaandBigMa.

Theyputtheyoungpeople’spresentationsonfirst,beforeallofthespeechesandthemusiciansandtheadultpoets.Ourplaywasawkward,withSisterPatfollowingusaroundwiththemicrophone,butwecontinuedonasifwe’drehearseditthatway.ThefirsttimeJaniceAnktonheardhervoiceboomoutoverallthoseloudspeakers,shejumpedback.ShesoonovercameheramplifiedvoiceandprovedabiggerhamthanVonettaonhershowiestandcrowiestdays.JanicebrandishedhersilvercapgunatustiredandscaredrunawayslavesmorethanSisterPat’sscripthadcalledfor.AllIknewwasthecrowdlikedit,andthatwasenoughfor“HarrietTubman,”whoproclaimed,“Eitheryouwanttobefreeoryouwanttobescaredslaves!”Shewassupposedtohavesaid,“Ihaven’tlostapassengeryet.”Thecrowdwentcrazy,andJanicesoakeditup.EunicekickedhersisterthewayIsometimeshadtoputVonettainherplace.Itworked.JanicestoppedwavinghersilvercapshooteratusandwentonwiththeplayasSisterPathadwrittenit.

AfterHarrietTubmanfreedtheslaves,Hirohitoandtheboysshowedofftheirkaratekicksandchopsandjujitsumoves.Eunice,Janice,andBeatricechangedintotheirmatchingAfricanprintheadwrapsanddressessewnbytheirmother.

IwascertainVonettawouldbeeatenupwithjealousyafterJanice’slouddramaticperformancewassoontobefollowedbyherdancinginthatcutematchingoutfit.Instead,Vonettahadbeenawfullyquietwhilewewaitedforourturntogoonstage.IfearedtheworstwithVonetta’ssunkenmood.ThishadhappenedjustbeforetheTipTopTapdisaster.AquietVonettawasascaredVonetta.ThatmeantI’dhavetodanceherpartor,inthiscase,sayherpartifhereyesbuggedoutandhermouthdidn’topen.ThenafterwardI’dhaveto“there,there”herforthenexttwoweeks.

“Vonetta,youready?”

Shenodded.

IfIdidn’tmakehertalk,weweredoomed.“What’sthat,Vonetta?”

Anothernod.

NowIwasmad.MadbecausethiswasthesameVonettawhohadstubbornlywantedtosing“DryYourEyes”beforeallofthesepeople.ThiswasthesameVonettawhohadrecited“WeRealCool”untilitdroveCeciletoacussingfit.ThiswasVonettawhohadsaid,“Weshoulddothispoem.”Andasusual,IwouldhavetogooutthereandfinishthemessVonettastarted.

“Vonetta,don’tmakemekickyou.”

“Betternot,”shesaid.Good.Atleasthermouthopenedandtwowordscameout.“AndI’mready,foryourinformation.”

“I’mready,”Fernpipedup.“I’mreadylikeFreddy.I’mreadyandsteady.IknowaboyinmyclassnamedEddie.EddieLarson,butLarsondoesn’tgowithreadyandsteady.”Thenshebarked.“Arf.Arf.”

VonettaandIlookedateachother,thenatFern.Vonetta,said,“Fern,whatareyoutalkingabout?”

Fernsmiledandsang,“Isa-awsomething.”ThensheclappeditoutlikewewerestillontheEastBaybus.

Thekarateboyshadrunofftheplatformwhilethecrowdstillcheered.Ihadn’tbeenpayingattentionbecauseIwasworriedaboutVonetta.ButwhenHirohitoranover,Isaid,“Thatwasreallyneat.”

SisterPatpushedustothestageandwemarchedoutbeforeallthosepeople.Vonettawassupposedtointroduceusandsaythenameofourpoem

andthatourmotherwroteit.ButIcouldseehereyesgrowingbigandherfaceashen.IwhisperedthetwothingsIknewwouldgethergoing.Isaid,“Hirohito’swatching.AndJanicehopesyoutrip.”

Vonetta’sfaceripenedtoapeach.ShegrabbedthemicrophonepolelikeDianaRoss,steppedoutinfrontofus—herSupremes—thenclearedherthroat.“‘IBirthedaBlackNation,’byourmother,Nzila,theblackpoet.Allthepowertoallthepeople.”

Thecrowdroaredandwavedtheirfists.Maybetheycarriedonbecauseshewasalittlegirlmakingbigsounds.MaybetheycheeredforNzila,whowasnowaknownpoliticalprisoner.ToVonetta,theycheeredforher,andshewassettoshowandcrow.

Vonetta:

“Ibirthedablacknation.

Frommywombblackcreation

spilledforth

tobe

stolen

shackled

dispersed.”

Me:

“Idispatchedblackwarriors

ragedagainstunjustbarriers

tofindthe

blackandstronghadfallen

divided

deceived

overcome.”

Fern:

“Blackoceansseparateus

torturedcries

songs

ofblackgreatness

Stillechoinmycanal.”

Vonetta,Fern,andme:

“Hearthereverberation

ofastolenblacknation

foreverlost

toforeignshores

wherethievesdonotatone

andMotherAfricacannotbeconsoled.”

AllthatwasmissingwasCeciletoseeandhearusreciteherpoem.I’msureshewouldn’thaveappreciatedVonettasprinkling“black”intoherpoemlikepepper,butthecrowdlovedit,andwewentalong,followingVonetta’slead,throwinginthewordblackasshehad.Followingeachotherwaseasy.We’dbeendoingitforaslongaswecouldalltalk.SayingCecile’swords,oneafteranother,feltlikewewerebringingherintoourconversationinsteadofturningourvoicesonher,likewehad.

Whenwefinished,weweresupposedtoexittheplatform—mefirst,Vonettasecond,andFernlast.We’dwalkedoffthestageandovertothewing.ThatwaswhatIwascertainwe’ddone.ThenIturnedandsawFernstillstandinginthecenterofthestage.Iwenttogether,butSisterPatwasalreadywalkingout.

Fernwouldn’tleave.ShesaidsomethingtoSisterPat,whonoddedandadjustedthemicrophonedowntoFern’smouth.ThensheleftFernaloneonstage.

Thecrowdquietedandwaited,butFernstoodwithoutsayingaword.AgainIwenttogetlittleFern,butSisterMukumbugrabbedmyshoulder.“Wait,Delphine.Lether.”

SisterMukumbuhadnoideahowharditwasformetowatchmybabysisterstandalonebeforeallofthosepeople.Theycouldlaughather,shoutathertogetoffthestage,orbooherintotears.ButFernballedherfists,bangedthematherside,andthenshespoke.

“MymothercallsmeLittleGirl,butthisisapoembyFernGaither,notLittleGirl.ThisisapoemforCrazyKelvin.It’scalled‘APatontheBackforaGoodPuppy.’”Sheclearedherthroat.

“CrazyKelvinsays‘Offthepig.’

CrazyKelvinslapseveryonefive.

ThepolicemanpatsCrazyKelvinontheback.

Thepolicemansays,‘Goodpuppy.’

CrazyKelvinsays,‘Arf.Arf.

Arf,arf,arf,arf.’

BecauseIsawthepolicemanpatyourback,

CrazyKelvin.

Surelydid.”

Twothingshappenedjustthen.Really,threethings.

First,thecrowdwentwildforFernGaither.JaniceAnktonfoldedherarmsandtoldEuniceshedidn’twanttogoonstageanddanceafterFernhadgrabbedupalltheapplause.

Second,CrazyKelvinbackedaway.Ithinkhewassearchingforthebestwaytogetoutofthepark,buthewassurroundedbyBlackPanthers.TheyknewwhatFernhadsaid,eventhoughittookVonettaandmealittlelongertoreallyunderstandwhatFernhadsaidandseen.Andwhatitmeant.LuckilyforCrazyKelvin,therewereenoughpolicementostepinandgethimoutofthepark.

It’sfunnyaboutCrazyKelvin.Ifhehadn’tgoneonandonabout“racistpigs,”Fernwouldhaveneveraskedherself,“What’swrongwiththispicture?”I’msureithadmoretodowithMissPattyCakeandhimtellingherwhoshecouldlove.I’msureithadmoretodowithhimtellingherwhoshewas.FernhadCrazyKelvininhersights,andshegothimwithhisownwords:“What’swrongwiththispicture?”

Therewasathirdthingthathappenedjustthen,onlyIdidn’tknowitatthetime.Ceciletoldittomeinaletteramonthlater.Andthatthing,thethirdthingwas,apoethadbeenborn.Itwasn’tLongfellow,Cecilehadwritten,butitwasarunningstart.

So

Althoughtherallywasstillgoingstrong,Vonetta,Fern,andIcouldn’tgetdownintothecrowdfastenoughoncewehadspottedCecile.Weweren’tthehuggingtype,butwewereallhappy.WewerehappyCecilehadbeenreleasedfromjailandhappyshewastheretoseeusonstagereciting“IBirthedaNation.”ThankstoVonetta,nowpeoplecalledCecile’spoem“IBirthedaBlackNation.”Ihadbracedmyselfforhercrazyangeratusfordisturbingherpoemlikewedisturbedherquiet,butshedidn’tmentiononewordaboutallthe“black”we’dthrownintoherpoem.Infact,Cecilejustseemeddifferentafterhavingbeenlockedup.Sheevenlimitedherdisguisetoherbigshades.Shewasfeelingsogood—inawaythatIthinkonlyIcouldmakeout—thatsheevengaveuscompliments.

Vonettagothersatmyexpense.Cecilesaid,“Seethat,Delphine?YouneedtospeakuplikeVonetta.Now,that’showyoureciteapoem.”ShemightaswellhavesaidVonettawasHollywood’sblackShirleyTemple.VonettalivedonCecile’spraisefortherestofthesummerandintothenextyear.

ToFern,Cecilesaid,“Whosaidyoucouldwriteapoem?”

Fernsaid,“Ididn’twriteit.Isaidit.”

“Surelydid,”Cecilesaid,beatinghertoit;andwealllaughed.WhatCeciledidn’tsaywasFern’sname.Ferndidn’tseemtonotice,butIdid.

IwaitedforCeciletogivememyshareofpraise.Ididn’tneeditheapedonlikemysistersdid,butIknewitwouldbegood,becauseminewouldcomelast.Forachange,Iplannedtorollaroundinitandgrinlikeadummy.

Butthensomeoftheorganizersoftherallyswarmed“SisterNzila”and“LittleNzila.”TheyfussedoverFern,tellingherhowbraveandclevershewas.TheorganizershadalsomadetimeforNzilatospeakofher“unjustarrest,”butCecilewavedheropportunityaway.“Y’allheardmydaughters,”shesaid,moretiredthanproud.“Theysaiditallforme.”

Vonetta,Fern,andIhuggedSisterMukumbuandSisterPatandtoldthemwehadagreattimeatthePeople’sCentersummercamp.Theypraisedourwork.PraisedFern’sbravery.Vonetta’sloud,strongvoice,andmybeingaleaderandahelper.Theytold“SisterNzila”allaboutusandthattheywantedusbacknextyear.

TherestoftherallywasallthespeechesaboutHueyNewtonandBobbyHutton.Cecilesaidshewasn’tstayingforthat,eventhoughshecouldhavebeenthestaroftheday.Shesaid,“Y’allcanstayandrunaroundwithyourfriends.Tomorrowyou’llbeontheplanetoNewYork.”

VonettaandFernranoffwithJaniceandBeatrice.EuniceandIfoundaplacetositandshareabagofchips.ItoldherwewouldbeflyingtoNewYorkthenextday.Sheaskedifwewerecomingback,andIsaidIdidn’tknow.Isuggestedwebecomepenpalsandwriteeachotherlettersonceamonth.Thatsoundedokaytoher.Neitheroneofuswasreallyatalkerorrun-aroundplayer.Sowejustsatthere.

Hirohitofoundussittingandjumpedintoakaratepose.“Didyouseeme?”

“Wesawyou,Hirohito,”Eunicesaid.“ItwouldhavebeenbetterifyoubrokesomeboardsliketheydoonTV.”Shedemonstratedwithakaratechoptoapileofairboards.

Hedidn’treallylookather.Helookedatme.“Wantarideonmygo-kart?”

Ididn’tknowhowtobewithHirohitowhileEunicewasthere.Ijustsaidnoandlookedatmysneakers.Ifeltmyfacegrowingwarm.Myfeetweretoobig.Toobigforasixth-gradegirl.

“Hirohito,youletagirlonyourgo-kart?Yourpreciousgo-kart?”Icouldn’ttellifEunicewasteasinghimormadathim.

“Yeah.So.”

“YoulikeDelphine.”

IhitherontheshoulderlikeshewasVonetta.Shedidn’tseemtomind.TeasingHirohitoandmakingmefeelsillyseemedtoprovideEunicewithentertainmentandsatisfaction.Sheputherhandoverhermouthtogasp.“Ican’tbelieveyou,Delphine.YoulikeHirohito.You’rejustasbadasJaniceandyoursister.”

ThiswasthesecondtimeEunicehadgottenme,andbothtimeshadtodowithHirohito.Ineverhadanyoneovermelikeasisterorbrotheranddidn’tknowhowtoanswerback.Ididn’twanttodenyitincasehelikedmetoo,butIwasn’tabouttobetheonetosayitinwords.Ihadn’tevensaidittomyselfyet.

Eunicewouldn’tletup.Shewasfinallyenjoyingherself.“HirohitoWoods,Ican’tbelieveyouletagirlrideonyourgo-kart.”

“So.”

IsmiledwithoutsmilinglikeCeciledoes.Besides.Hecouldhavesaid“Idon’tlikeher”or“She’stootall”or“She’stooplain.”Hecouldhavesaidwhatalltheboysinmyclasssaid:“Iwouldn’tlikeherifshewerethelastgirlonearth.”Instead,Hirohitosaid,“So.”Like“Okay.”LikeitwasokaytolikeDelphine.

Isaidittoo.“So.”

BeEleven

WetoldCecileeverything.AboutourexcursiontoSanFrancisco,thehippies,Chinatown.Vonettatoldhowthetall,blond,whitepeopletookpicturesofherlikeshewasamoviestar,whichIcouldseeCeciledidn’tlikeonebit.FerntoldhowshesawCrazyKelvinwithtwopolicemenjustbeforethebusroundedontotheBayBridge.ShegaveusanearfulabouthowKelvinalwayssaid“racistpigs,”butheletthepolicemanpathimonthebacklikehewasthepoliceman’sdog.Tothat,Cecilesaid,“Ifyoucanseethat,thenyou’llwritepoems,allright.”

Weaskedheraboutbeingarrestedandbeingapoliticalprisonerandafreedomfighter.Cecilemadeitsoundlikeitwasnobigdeal.“I’vebeenfightingforfreedomallmylife.”Butshewasn’ttalkingaboutprotestsigns,standinguptotheMan,andknowingyourrights.Shewastalkingaboutherlife.Justher.Notthepeople.

Vonetta,wantingmorecompliments,said,“Weputeverythingback,justthewayyoulikeit,”talkingaboutCecile’sworkplace,thekitchen.Ididn’texpectgushing,butitwouldhavebeenniceifshegaveusmorethanthenod.

Wepackedallofourthingsexceptfortheclotheswe’dwearinthemorning.Itwashardtobelievefourweekshadpassedbysoquickly.WhenVonettaandFernhadgonetobed,IwentintothekitchentofindCecilehunchedoverherprinter.Piecesofthemachinelayoutonthetable.Shehadthescrewdriverinherhand,puttingitbacktogetherherself.

AlthoughIdidn’thearthedoorswingwhenIpushedit,shehadandknewIwasthere.

“IcalledyourfatherwhenIgotout,”shetoldmewithoutlookingup.“Delphine,whydidn’tyoutellhimwhathappened?”

Istoodthere,surprised.Shocked.Itdidn’tentermymindthatshewouldhavewantedmetocallPapa.

“Wethoughtyouwerecomingrightback.”

Shekeptscrewinginoneoftherollers,stillnotlookingatmedirectly.“Icountedonyoutocallhim.Tellhimwhathappened.Iatleastthoughtyou’dfigurethatout.You’retheoldest,Delphine.Thesmartone.”

ShehadjusttoldmeIwassmartandadisappointment,remindingmeshehadn’tsaidonenicethingtome.Notone.

“PapawouldhavemadeuscomebacktoBrooklyn.HewouldhavebeenmadbecauseIdidn’tdowhathesaid:lookafterVonettaandFern.AndthenBigMawouldn’tletadaypasswithouttellingmefortherestofmylifehowyouaren’tnothingbut—”

“Delphine.Youletsevendayspasswithoutcallingyourfather.Sevendays.ThatwouldhavebeenlookingoutforVonettaandAfua.Youshouldn’thavetakenthisallonyourself.Youdidn’thavenothingtodowiththepolicearrestingme.Ididn’thavenothingtodowiththepolicearrestingme.Theycame.TheyarrestedmealongwiththetwoPantherstheyreallywanted.AndLouis’smotherisgoingtosaywhatevershe’sgoingtosay.That’sjusthowitis.Allyouhadtodowascallyourfather.Thatwasall.”

Myeyesstung.Iwasspilling-overmad.Icouldn’tstopwhatIhadtosay,evenifshestoodovermeandbecamemycrazymothermountainandknockedmedown.Iwasspillingover.

“I’monlyelevenyearsold,andIdoeverything.Ihavetobecauseyou’renottheretodoit.I’monlyelevenyearsold,butIdothebestIcan.Idon’tjustupandleave.”

Iwasstillontwofeet.Therewasnostingonmyjaw.Mybacksidehadnotbeentouched.ButIwasreadyforit.Iclosedmyeyes,becauseIfiguredtheslapwouldn’tstingasmuchwhenitdidcome.

InsteadIheardmetalonmetal.Iopenedmyeyes.ThesoundIheardwasthescrewdrivermissingthegroove,hittingtheprinter’smetalinnards.Shelaidthescrewdriveronthetable.

Ihadnowheretogo,butIwantedtodisappear.

Finally,shenoddedtothefloorandsaid,“Sit.”

Ididwhatshetoldme.Therewasalotofsilence,butthenshespoke.

“ItwasjustmeandmymotheruntilIwaseleven.”

Iwasn’tusedtohavingherattention.Havingherlookatmeandtalk.Allthewhileshespoke,shedidn’tlifthereyesfromme.

“Acarhitherandshewasgone.Thatwasit.Myaunttookmeintocleanherhouse.Watchherkids.Isleptonablanketonthefloorinthekids’roomforfiveyears.Iwassixteenwhensheannouncedshewasgettingmarried.Shesaiditwasn’tgoodforabiggallikemetobeinherhouse,seeingasshehadahusband.Shesaidinthelongrunshewasdoingmeafavor.Thenmymother’ssistermademeasandwichIcouldn’teat,gavemetwentydollars,

andputmeout.

“Isleptinsubwaysatnight.DuringthedaytimeIreadHomerandLangstonHughesinlibraries.Itriedtohideinthestacks,buttheyalwaysfoundmeandshooedmeout.WhenIdidn’thavefifteencentsforthesubway,Isleptonparkbenches.WhereverIcouldhidemyself.

“Delphine,it’sahardthingtosleeponthestreets.Ahardthingforagrownman.Aharderthingforateenagegirl,nomatterhowbigandtallsheis.AtnightItalkedtomyselftostayawake.IsaidthepoemsofHomerandLangstonHughes.Ilikedthewords.Theycomfortedme.Theirrhymes.Theirbeats.Theymadeaplaceforme.Theykeptmestrong.

“ButIwasalwayshungry,andIhadgottensick.Yourfatherfoundmeonaparkbench.HeandhisbrotherhadaniceapartmentonHerkimerStreet.Hefedme.Gavemeabedtosleepon.Ihadn’tsleptonabedsinceIwaselevenyearsoldandmymotherwasalive.

“Louisneverbotheredme.Didn’taskmetodomuchbutcook.Sweep.Washhisclothes.”Shepaused.“Ihadyouthenextyear.Sixyearsfromwhereyouarenow.IhadVonettanext.BothtimeshismothercameupfromAlabamaanddeliveredyouandVonettainthatapartment.SheandIcouldn’tgetalong,soshealwayswentbacksouth.

“ThenIhadthelastone.Thatlittleonewantedoutbadenoughtocomewhenshewantedtocome.Earlyandfast.ShewasbornonaFriday.AllIcoulddowaslieonthekitchenfloorandlethercome.”

Shestoppedforaminuteandsaid,“Youweretherewhenshecame.”

“Iwas?”

“Iwasdownonthefloor.YoustrokedmyhairlikeIwasadoll,butyoudidn’thaveanydolls.Notoys.Yousaid,‘Don’tcry,Mama.Don’tcry.’Ithinkthat’sthefirsttimeIheardyoureallyspeak.Butwhenshecameoutofme,youdidn’tsayaword.Youtookthedishtowelhangingofftheiceboxhandleandwipedoffyoursister.”

Icouldhardlybreathe.

“ThenDarnellwalkedinfromschool.Hedideverythingelseneededtobedone.”

Whycouldn’tIrememberseeingFernbeingborn?Tellingmymothernottocry.WipingFernoffwiththedishtowel.Wherewerethoseflashesofmemory?

“Yourlifeseemshard,Delphine,butitisgood.It’sbetterthanwhatIcouldhavegivenyou.”

Herewasmymothertellingmeherlife.Whoshewas.HowshecametobeCecile.AnsweringquestionsI’dstoredinmyheadfromthetimeIrealizedshewouldnotcomeback.HereshewastellingmemorethanIcouldremember,understand,picture.MaybeIwastooyoungtoreallytakeholdofitall,butforwhatseemedlikethefirsttimeeverallIcouldthinkaboutwasmyownself.WhatIlost.WhatImissed.Thatnoonesaid,“Good,Delphine.”Nooneeversaidthank-you.Evenafterhertellingmeallofthis,Iwasstillmad.MaybeI’dbeenmadallalongbutdidn’thavetimetojustbeit.Mad.

“IsittruewhatBigMasays?Thatyouleftbecauseyoucouldn’tnameFern?”

Itookhersilenceasayes.Forawhileshesaidnothing,soIguessedshewasdonetalking.Istartedtogetup.

Thenshesaid,“Icould’vetakenyouwithmeandlefttheothertwo.Youhavemymother’sface.Youdidn’tcry.Youdidn’twantmuch.Youdidn’ttalk,butyouunderstood.ButIdidn’thaveapennyinmypocket.IjustknewIhadtogo.SoIgaveVonettaacookie.Thatwasallshewantedanyway.IgavethebabymilkandI…”

Thepictureflashedbeforemeasithadmany,manytimes.

“…putthedollbabyinwithAfua.ThedollIaskedDarnelltogotothestoreandget.ItoldyoutobegoodandwaitforPapa.ThenIleft.”

ShetoldmeeverythingIwantedtoknowandtoomuch.Itwastoomuch.I’dhavetotakeitoutonepieceatatimetolookatit.

Shesaid,“DidIleavebecauseofaname?You’dhavetobegrownfirstbeforeIexplained.IfItoldyounow,itwouldjustbewords.”Shepickedupherscrewdriverandwentbacktoworkingonherprinter.“Beeleven,Delphine.Beelevenwhileyoucan.”

Thatwasit.

InthemiddleofthenightIwokeup.

Afua?

Afua

“Delphine,Vonetta,andFern!Getupouttathatbed.Comeon,y’all.It’stimetogo.”

Noonewantedtogetoutofbed.Noonewantedtogo.ButCecilestoodinthedoorwayandcalledusonemoretime.

Fernwasthefirsttospringup.“Hey.That’smyname.Ourmothersaidmyname!”

Cecilerolledhereyesandlefttheroom.

Fernwasaregularjumpingbean.“Shesaidmyname!Shesaidmyname!”

Vonettacouldn’ttakeanotherexcitedminuteofFernjumpingontheuppermattress.“Bigdeal.Shesaidmynametoo.”

“Bigdealtome,”Fernsaid.“ShealwayssaysDelphine.ShealwayssaysVonetta.TodayshesaidFern,Fern,Fern.”Shejumpedinbetweeneach“Fern.”“Fern.NotLittleGirl.”

VonettaflungherpillowatFern,butFernwouldn’tbequieted.

Isaid,“That’snotyourrealname.Theoneshegaveyou.”

“Itistoo.”

“Isnot.”

Wekeptitup,VonettaandIonthesamesideforachange.“Istoo.”

ThenIbrokeitbysaying,“YournameisAfua.”

Iwasn’tknownforjoking.ThatsoberedthemasmuchasFern’sname,whichtheybothmouthed.A-FOO-A.

“Takethatback,Delphine,”Fernsaid.“Myname’snotAfua.It’sFern.”

Vonettapointedather.“Ah-hah!Afoowah.Phooey.ChopSuey.LittlePhooey.Allovermyshoo-ie.”

Fernturnedred.ThiswasthepartwhereIwassupposedtoshutVonettaupandtakeFern’sside.InsteadIsaid,“Getusedtoit.YournameisAfua,asinDelphine,Vonetta,andAfua.”

Fernballedherfingersintoafistandpunchedmeinthestomach.Herhandwassolittle.Ididn’tsay“Ow!”togiveherthesatisfactionofknowingshecausedmepain.Ijustsaid,“Gobrushyourteeth,Afua.”

Later,Cecilesaid,“Why’dyoutellherthat?IfIwantedhertoknowhername,Iwouldhavetoldher.”

Icouldn’ttellifCecilewasreallyannoyedorifshewasjustfussing.IdecidedshewasfussingandthatIcouldn’tgothroughmylifeafraidofwhatmymothermightdonext.Ishruggedandatemycereal.

Delphine,Vonetta,Afua,Nzila.Somenamesmadeup.Somenot.Diditmatterwhattheyreallymeant,orwhereCecilegotthemfrom,aslongasshegavethemtousandtoherself?

Wespentthebusrideandthetwo-dollartaxiridetotheairportmakingfunofAfua.OnceCecilesaid“Cutitout,”thatwastheendofusteasingFernoutright.Still,Vonettaandmyconstantsmirkseruptedintosnickers.Fernstayedmad.

Whenwegottotheairport,CecilecalledPapacollect.SheturnedherbacktousandspoketoPaformorethanfifteenminutes.BigMawouldn’tbehappyaboutthecostofthecollectcall,butIdoubtedPapaminded.

WhilewewaitedforCeciletofinishspeakingwithPa,awhitemancamebyandsaidhowcutemysistersandIwereinourmatchingoutfits.Hestillhadfilmleftoverfromhissightseeingtripandwantedtousethelastofittotakeapictureofus.“Prettygirls,smilepretty!”hesaid.Icouldtellhewasaniceman,butCecileputastoptoitwhileVonettaadjustedherhairband,alreadyposingforthecoverofJet.

Cecilestoodinfrontofusandsaid,“They’renotmonkeysondisplay.”Thenicemantriedtoapologize,butCecilewouldn’thearit.“How’dyoulikeitifsomestrangemancamesnappingpicturesofyourdaughters?”Ifeltbadforhim,butIknewCecilehadtostepin.Anymotherwouldhaveatleastdonethat.

Wesatincomfywaiting-roomseatswithouttalkingforalmosthalfanhour.Thehandsonthebigclockmovedslowly.Fernnoddedmerrilylikeshewasansweringherselforsinging.KindoflikeCeciletappingoutbeatswithherpencil.Vonettafiddledwithherhairbandortwirledherlongestbraidaroundherfinger.Ifollowedthejanitorpushinghisdrymopalongtheflooraspeoplecarryingtravelbagsdancedaroundhimorfoundseats.IstoppedglancingupatthebigclockordownatmyTimex.Ididn’thaveto.Thequeasinesschurninginsidetoldmeitwastimetogo.Andthentheboarding

announcementwasmadeovertheloudspeaker.

Shesaid,“Goon,”andwewent.

IexpectedCeciletowalkaway.Tocutthroughtheterminalinman-sizedstridesassoonaswegotupandstoodonline.WhenIturnedtoseeifshehadgone,shewasstandingonlyafewfeetaway,lookingstraightatme.Itwasastrange,wonderfulfeeling.Todiscovereyesuponyouwhenyouexpectednoonetonoticeyouatall.Ismiledalittleandfacedfronttofindsomethingtodowithmyself.

VonettaandFernbothheldontotheirownticket.IreachedtotakeFern’sticket,afraidshe’dcrushitthewayshewasholdingit.Shefeltmereachingandpulledherhandaway.Wemovedclosertothefrontofthelinenearthetickettaker.Fernballedbothhands,bangingherfistsathersides,herticketnowcompletelycrumpled.

Maybeshewasafraidoftheairplanerideandgettingknockedaroundbythoseclouds.Maybeshedidn’tknowwhattodowithherhandswithoutMissPattyCake.OrshecouldhavestillbeenmadaboutallthatAfuateasing.Myfirstmovewastocomforther.IwenttoreachouttoFern,butsheboltedfromtheline,ran,andjumpedontopofCecile.VonettaandIdidn’thesitate.Webrokeofffromthelineandranovertohugourmotherandletherhugus.

Howdoyouflythreethousandmilestomeetthemotheryouhadn’tseensinceyouneededhermilk,neededtobepickedup,orwerefourgoingonfive,andnotthrowyourarmsaroundher,whethershewantedyoutoornot?NeitherVonetta,Fern,norIcouldanswerthatone.Weweren’tabouttoleaveOaklandwithoutgettingwhatwe’dcomefor.ItonlytookFerntoknowweneededahugfromourmother.

Acknowledgments

Therearesomanywomenandgirlsinthisstory.WomenI’veknown.PoetsIgrewupreading.Girlhoodfriends.Throughthewriting,thepeoplewhokeptmeinspiredweremyhurricaneofamother,MissEssieMaeCostonWilliams,myown“Delphine”—RosalindWilliamsRogers,RashamellaCumbo,DebraBonner,RubyWhitaker,andsomanymore.AmongthepoetsIthoughtofduringthewritingwereNikkiGiovanni,GwendolynBrooks,LucilleClifton,SoniaSanchez,andKattieMilesCumbo.Andwherewouldthisworkbewithoutmysister,champion,andeditor:RosemaryBrosnan?

Icouldnothavewrittenthisworkoffictionwithouthavingreadbooks,articles,andinterviewsthatcoverthisperiod.IspecificallycouldnothavefelttheclimateofthetimesfromBlackPantheraccountsandperspectiveswithoutDavidHilliard’sTheBlackPantherIntercommunalNewsService.

Iwantedtowritethisstoryforthosechildrenwhowitnessedandwerepartofnecessarychange.Yes.Therewerechildren.

AbouttheAuthor

WinnerofthePEN/NormaKleinAward,RitaWilliams-Garciaistheauthorofsixdistinguishednovelsforyoungadults:mostrecently,JUMPED;aswellasNOLAUGHTERHERE,EVERYTIMEARAINBOWDIES(aPublishersWeeklyBestChildren’sBook),andFASTTALKONASLOWTRACK(allALABestBooksforYoungAdults);BLUETIGHTS;andLIKESISTERSONTHEHOMEFRONT.ThelatterwasnamedaCorettaScottKingHonorBookandwaschosenasanALABestBookforYoungAdultsandabestbookoftheyearbyALABooklist,SchoolLibraryJournal,TheBulletinoftheCenterforChildren’sBooks,TheHornBook,andPublishersWeekly.RitaWilliams-GarcialivesinJamaica,NewYork,isonthefacultyattheVermontCollegeofFineArtsintheWritingforChildren&YoungAdultsProgram,andhastwoadultdaughters,MichelleandStephanie.Youcanvisitheronlineatwww.ritawg.com.

Visitwww.AuthorTracker.comforexclusiveinformationonyourfavoriteHarperCollinsauthor.

AlsobyRitaWilliams-Garcia

BlueTights

EveryTimeaRainbowDies

FastTalkonaSlowTrack

Jumped

LikeSistersontheHomefront

NoLaughterHere

Credits

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JacketdesignbyJoelTippie

Copyright

ONECRAZYSUMMER.Copyright©2010byRitaWilliams-Garcia.AllrightsreservedunderInternationalandPan-AmericanCopyrightConventions.Bypaymentoftherequiredfees,youhavebeengrantedthenon-exclusive,non-transferablerighttoaccessandreadthetextofthise-bookon-screen.Nopartofthistextmaybereproduced,transmitted,down-loaded,decompiled,reverseengineered,orstoredinorintroducedintoanyinformationstorageandretrievalsystem,inanyformorbyanymeans,whetherelectronicormechanical,nowknownorhereinafterinvented,withouttheexpresswrittenpermissionofHarperCollinse-books.

LibraryofCongressCataloging-in-PublicationData

Williams-Garcia,Rita.

Onecrazysummer/RitaWilliams-Garcia.—1sted.

p.cm.

Summary:Inthesummerof1968,aftertravelingfromBrooklyntoOakland,California,tospendamonthwiththemothertheybarelyknow,eleven-year-oldDelphineandhertwoyoungersistersarrivetoacoldwelcomeastheydiscoverthattheirmother,adedicatedpoetandprinter,isresentfuloftheintrusionoftheirvisitandwantsthemtoattendanearbyBlackPanthersummercamp.

ISBN978-0-06-076088-5(tradebdg.)—ISBN978-0-06-076089-2(lib.bdg.)

[1.Sisters—Fiction.2.Mothers—Fiction.3.Poets—Fiction.4.AfricanAmericans—Fiction.5.BlackPantherParty—Fiction.6.Civilrightsmovements—Fiction.7.Oakland(Calif.)—History—20thcentury—Fiction.]I.Title.

PZ7.W6713On20102009009293

[Fic]—dc22CIP

AC

EPubEdition©December2009ISBN:978-0-06-196667-5

10987654321

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