I ran off to our room while Jay ran toward the woods. Part of me was sad to know that we would have to start keeping secrets from each other. But a bigger part of me was excited to know I might finally get a friend. I looked around for anywhere I could hide my root bag so no one would see it. The sun was going down, making long shadows on the floor of the room. They stretched out, reaching into the hallway, toward the front of the house. I imagined that shadow could pass over the whole kitchen, even drift under the floor.
That’s it!
I jumped up from the bed and ran outside. After I looked around to make sure nobody saw me, I wriggled under the house toward the tiny hole in the floor me and Jay used to use when we wanted to listen to the grown people talk after they’d told us to go play.
On my side of the hole, there was a crack I usually traced with my fingers while Jay had his turn looking up into the kitchen. I found the crack again, wiggling my first finger inside to see if it would hold the root bag. Then I held the bag in my hands, this little bundle of cloth and bits of things. A friend, please. I thought it hard as I could. Someone to talk to and play with, like Gran. At that, I thought I might cry again, but I held back.
Even though Doc didn’t tell me to, I kissed the bag. With a bit of pushing, I wedged my very first bit of rootwork inside the crack tight. I patted the bag, safe from discovery, and crawled out from under the house.
No one was around to see me. I brushed the dirt off and walked inside, my heart beating fast, wondering what would happen next.
3
When the sun broke through the curtains at the window in the room I shared with Jay I was already awake, excited and nervous all at once for the first day of school. We’d be at the same school we always went to, but a new year meant different teachers, different subjects, lots of new things.
Jay didn’t care too much about the learning part of it, but he liked school because he got to play ball and dominoes with the other boys at lunchtime. I was the opposite. I loved to learn all the new things and read the books, but that was it.
Mama had let me sleep in rag rollers the night before, so I had big corkscrew curls instead of my usual pigtails, and she put bobby pins in my hair, crisscrossing two on each side. She also surprised me with a plaid dress she’d made from one of Gran’s old ones. It wasn’t brand-new, but it was new for me. Wearing something made from one of Gran’s dresses was special. I could almost smell the lemon and pine of her favorite soap still on the dress.
“Oh, thank you, thank you!” I hugged her and she squeezed me back.
“You’re welcome,” she said with a hitch in her voice. “Don’t you go getting yourself dirty, now.”
“I promise,” I replied.
“You know, there will be more new children at your school this year,” Mama said.
“Really?” If there would be new kids at school, I figured I’d have a better chance to find a friend. Maybe the root bag was working already.
Mama fluffed my curls. “Remember what Pastor said yesterday, about the new education laws?”
I was so busy saying goodbye to Gran, I only half remembered. But I nodded anyway.
“Well, I heard that a few of the well-off Negro families who used to pay to send their kids to private school will be sending them to yours in support of the new laws. Some good private school teachers are starting to work at your school this year too.”
Mama and I went to the kitchen and found Jay was already dressed and waiting at the table. His navy-blue school pants weren’t new either, but he wore one of his newest shirts. He’d already gathered eggs from the chicken coop. Mama thanked him—it was then that I realized Gran wasn’t here to cook for us in the mornings like she would before school. The radio played the morning news, and we all listened to the announcer man as Mama whipped up breakfast:
Eleven Negro students will integrate Charleston County’s white schools today—the third of September, 1963. South Carolina was the only state in the union that had yet to desegregate its schools. White parents are outraged, threatening to remove their children from public schools and place them in private education. Plans to open private schools exclusively for white students have been submitted to the county, and it’s believed many will open their doors next year.
In 1954, the US Supreme Court ruled that segregation was unconstitutional in the landmark decision Brown v. Board of Education. This decision made a path for Negro children to be taught alongside white children in the same classrooms. But for nine years, South Carolina has operated as if this law did not exist.
The newsman went on to say that police were being called out to protect the Negro students going to white schools for the first time.
Me and Jay must have looked nervous, because Mama tried to make us feel better.
“Don’t worry,” she said, stirring a bubbling pot of grits on the stove. “That’s going on in Charleston first, not out here where we are.”
“Will we get to take a bus to school instead of walking?” Jay asked. He scooped spoonfuls of ambrosia, Mama’s fruit salad, into his mouth.
Mama nodded. “It’ll be a good thing when it finally does happen, because you kids will get better schooling. Newer books. Teachers with more training. But I swear, I’ll worry myself sick.”
“Why are they so”—I searched for the word the newsman used—“outraged?”
“A lot of whites think we’re lower than they are. Not good enough to share space with them.” She sighed. “Since they’re planning to open up more private schools, you may not have to deal with the outrage.”
Jay scraped the bottom of his bowl of fruit and I squinched my face up at the sound. “Why do they have police there, though?” he asked.
“To protect those children, just in case. Not all police are out to hurt us—some are good people wanting to do what’s right. Others will do exactly what they want to, whether it’s against the law or not.” She let out another heavy breath. “The trick is to figure out which one is which fast enough.”
I wanted to get a better education, but the thought of getting on a bus to go even farther away to school was scary. I was glad I didn’t have to think about it yet. This year already had plenty of things for me to focus on.
“All right, both of you. Hurry and eat. You can’t be late on your first day.”
I sat Dinah against the sugar dish and had a hot bowl of grits for breakfast. The thought of what would happen on the first day of school made my stomach wobble. This was the first time I was ever leaving for school without hugging Gran goodbye. Already I missed the feel of her mushy kiss on my forehead. So when I finished, I hugged Dinah tight. It was the closest thing to hugging Gran.
“Wish me luck,” I whispered to her, swallowing back the lump in my throat. Dinah’s little gunnysack hand was soft against my cheek, and her mouth was in a twisty, wavy line. “I’ll be home soon,” I told her. Then me and Jay kissed Mama, took our lunches and our books and pencils, and headed out for the walk to school.
A group of fancy-looking girls were watching us as me and Jay came up the long walkway that led to the school. They were wearing pretty dresses and sitting together on one of the low brick walls that ran all around the property. A few of them I recognized from last year; others I didn’t know. I smiled at them, but they didn’t look at me.