Fire from the Rock (11 page)

Reggie laughed, deep and throaty. Then, his voice turning serious, he asked, “Did you hear about the bombing of Dr. King's house down in Alabama? I told you white folks were hateful and dangerous.”

“That's not fair, Reggie. Not all white people are like that.” Sylvia frowned. “My friend Rachel is open and understanding and really pretty cool about all this stuff.”

“Does she have a brother?”

“Huh?”

“If you wanted to marry her brother, what would her daddy say? Would he welcome you into the family? Would she?”

“Her brother is a nerd—there's no way I'd marry him!” Sylvia tried to laugh it off, but she knew what Reggie was talking about.

“Don't get fooled by what you think is friendship, Sylvie. Lions hang with lions. Bears hang with bears. They don't mix.”

“I think you're being mean and unfair!” But she felt uncomfortable, because there was some truth in his words.

“So, what did your father think about the bombing?” Reggie asked.

Sylvia shifted in her seat. “I heard Daddy talking about it with some of the other ministers last night,” she told Reggie. “He was really upset.”

“Did he sound scared?”

“No. Surprisingly, Daddy was angry. I've never seen him like that—mad enough to do something!”

“Tell your daddy to call me if he ever decides to get up off his knees and get out into the streets where the real action is,” Reggie said with feeling.

“Reggie!” Sylvia replied, a little surprised at his outburst.

“I'm sorry. I don't mean no disrespect to your daddy, but everybody in his generation wants to sit around and wait for things to get better—my folks included. It's time to get up and do something.”

“You sound like Gary.”

“Gary's cool. He understands. You know, if men like Martin Luther King, or even girls like you, are going to try to change the world, it's not going to happen quietly,” Reggie told Sylvia.

“I know. I bet Dr. King was terrified when that bomb woke him up. He has little kids,” Sylvia added. Her right ear was getting sweaty, so she switched to the left.

“I wonder if something like that could happen here in Little Rock,” Reggie mused. “People are getting awfully riled up about the school integration.”

“I sure hope not,” Sylvia replied, imagining what it would be like to have a bomb detonate on her porch. She shuddered.

“If somebody ever tried to mess with you, Sylvie, I'd hurt 'em bad. Real bad,” Reggie said boldly.

“That's probably the sweetest thing anybody has ever said to me,” Sylvia said softly. “Also the dumbest. You're not Superman, Reggie.”

“Neither are you.” He paused. “You know, Sylvie, I know I have no right to tell you what to do, but I've thought about this quite a bit, and I don't want you to go to Central. I want you to go to high school and just be normal, not some kind of hero.”

“Oh, Reggie! I don't know what to say.” Sylvia felt tears welling up.

“I just want you to be with me. Is that too much to ask?”

Sylvia sighed. “Please don't make this harder than it is. This whole thing is bigger than both of us, Reggie.” The phone lines were silent as neither of them spoke for a moment. “Do you think white folks imagine the same world we do?” she asked quietly.

“Probably not.”

“Do you think they're scared like we are?” Sylvia asked thoughtfully.

“I ain't scared of nobody!”

“Hey, my mother is calling me. I have to get off the phone now.”

Just as he had the last few times they'd talked on the telephone, Reggie said softly, “See you later, alligator.”

Sylvia tried to cover the excitement she felt, and she knew it was corny, but she loved the fact that she had a stupid little custom that involved a boy. She said calmly in reply, “After while, crocodile.” She hung up the phone, a slight smile on her face, a faint frown behind it.

Hey, Sylvia, what did you do your project on?” Calvin asked as they walked into the classroom. “I know you'll get an A-plus as usual, Miss Perfect Patterson.” He took off his hat, bowed down in front of her, then dropped to one knee. “May I just touch your hand, my lady?”

“Oh, quit that,” Sylvia said, laughing, as she swatted him on the side of his head. “Get up and go dust off my chair so I may sit down on a proper throne!”

Calvin scrambled up and ran ahead, pretending to strew flower petals in front of her. Sylvia tried to brush it off, but she didn't like being the center of attention, and she didn't like it when others made fun of her good grades. The thought of being chosen to be on the list to go to Central made her even more nervous.

Reggie walked in then, wearing his favorite shoes and that brown leather bomber jacket Sylvia liked so much. It had belonged to his father, he'd told her once, and Sylvia thought it smelled of adventure and history—maybe a little romance. She relaxed as he gave her a genuine smile and went to his seat.

Just then Candy Castle, whose soft yellow sweater clung to her cleavage like melted cheese, walked over to Reggie's desk and casually leaned over to speak to him. Her ample chest was level with his face. Sylvia couldn't hear what Candy said, but Reggie laughed as if she had told the best joke in the world.

Miss Washington, after taking attendance and making announcements, stopped at every student's seat to collect their projects, taking the time to speak to each student.

“You did your paper on baseball?” Sylvia heard Miss Washington ask Reggie.

“Yes, ma'am. Jackie Robinson. And the other Negroes who integrated major league baseball,” Reggie replied.

“Good,” Miss Washington said as she moved to Lou Ann Johnson's desk. “And what did you choose, Miss Johnson?” The large woman standing so close made Lou Ann seem even skinnier.

“I did my paper on Fats Domino and Chuck Berry. They're going to change the world of music,” Lou Ann replied. “Besides, all the rest of the stuff on your list was boring.”

“Well, I certainly hope your paper isn't boring. I'd hate to fall asleep in the middle of reading it and be forced to give you a failing grade,” Miss Washington replied, chuckling.

When she got to Sylvia's neatly handwritten report, Miss Washington asked with a tone of approval in her voice, “Why did you choose Africa, Sylvia Faye? Many Negroes want to forget their heritage and their roots.”

“I read an article in the World Book encyclopedia and it made me angry,” Sylvia replied. “I wanted to find something that would make me feel proud.”

“Sadly, most people don't look at Africa with pride,” Miss Washington said.

“I think it's important that we know where we came from, so we can figure out where we're going,” Sylvia said simply. Calvin made an armpit noise. Candy Castle got out her hair-brush.

The teacher nodded with approval. “We need more sensible thinkers like you, Sylvia Faye,” Miss Washington said. “That's one reason you were chosen to be a candidate for Central.” As she moved around the classroom collecting the rest of the projects, Sylvia shifted uncomfortably in her seat. It seemed as if everyone in the class was watching her, making judgments with their eyes. Reggie, noticeably, looked in the other direction.

“Sylvia's always trying to be the teacher's pet!” Candy Castle whispered harshly—loud enough for Sylvia to hear. In spite of Miss Washington's strictness, Candy was chewing a piece of gum. She worked it slowly, with her mouth half open. Reggie, and the rest of the boys who sat near her, could focus on little else. Sylvia glanced at her and rolled her eyes, but said nothing.

Miss Washington, however, had ears attuned to the smallest scrap of noise, and the proverbial teacher's eyes in the back of her head. Without turning around she said, “I'd suggest you concentrate on self-improvement instead of self-enhancement and the degradation of others, Miss Castle. And spit out that gum. You've got the whole room smelling of peppermint gum!”

Candy took the opportunity to walk languidly to the waste-basket in the front of the room. Her skirt, brown woolen plaid, hid no secrets. She sauntered as if she knew the world was watching. It usually was, Sylvia noted with a sigh. The chewed wad of gum, probably a whole pack, clunked loudly in the empty basket.

Miss Washington, who had seen it all before, tried to ignore her.

“I did my project on the Harlem Globetrotters!” Calvin said as he turned his attention away from Candy and back to the teacher. “Did you know they've been around since 1927? They are best basketball players in the world!”

“The world is a better place, I'm sure,” Miss Washington said with a chuckle, “because of that team.”

“Is she making fun of my report, Sylvia?” Calvin asked.

“As long as she gives you a good grade on it, don't worry,” Sylvia told him, but she was focused on Reggie, who was passing a new pack of gum to Candy Castle, a big grin on his face.

Candy took the pack of gum with a smile, unwrapped a stick, then passed it back to Reggie, who gently placed it on her tongue. His eyes never left her face, her mouth, her lips.

Lou Ann leaned over to Sylvia and whispered, “You gonna let him do you like that, girl?”

Angry and embarrassed, Sylvia felt her face flush. “May I be excused to go to the restroom, please?” she asked the teacher.

Miss Washington nodded and Sylvia hurried out of the room.1 I bet no boys are
watching my
every move as
I
walk past them, she thought bitterly. Not even
Reggie.
When she got in the hall she let the tears fall.

Sylvia gave herself ten minutes in the bathroom, hiding behind the large wooden doors of the bathroom stall. Any longer and Miss Washington would come looking for her. When she walked back into the classroom, the teacher had begun a geography lesson, Candy was once again chewing gum, and Reggie looked up at Sylvia with innocent affection and a big grin, as if nothing had happened. She did her best to ignore him, but her heart was doing flip-flops.

“I warned you. Use him or lose him,” Lou Ann whispered as Sylvia returned to her desk.

“I don't know how!” Sylvia whispered back helplessly.

“If you go to Central, Reggie's going to go for Miss Sweet Treat over there,” Lou Ann replied. “You get chaos, Reggie gets Candy. Don't be dumb.” Miss Washington peered over her glasses to stifle their whispering.

At lunch Sylvia sat with Lou Ann, punching holes in her peanut butter sandwich with a pencil.

“You through killin' that food, Sylvia Faye?” Lou Ann asked with a laugh.

“I have a lot on my mind,” Sylvia admitted. She tossed the sandwich in the trash. “All this integration stuff is getting to me.”

“Leave those prejudiced folks at Central alone,” Lou Ann stated with a toss of her head. “How boring to go to school with white people!”

“They have a better school than we do,” Sylvia countered. “Bigger, maybe, but so what? I'm not complaining. Dunbar is good, but Mann is better! Look at all the fine boys we'll be able to pick from when we get there! I can't wait.”

“I thought you already had a boyfriend,” she said to Lou Ann, teasing.

“Oh, good old Otis is my junior high boyfriend, maybe even my summer vacation man. But he better watch out—Lou Ann is ready for high school boys now!” She threw back her head and laughed deeply.

“If I go to Central, there's nothing I can do to stop girls like Candy Castle from flashing that smile and flouncing her poodle skirts at Reggie,” Sylvia admitted.

“You got that right,” Lou Ann said with a knowing nod of the head. “If you choose to do this stupid integration thing, you may as well wrap Reggie up in a big red bow, put a three-cent stamp on his head, and deliver him to Candy Castle.”