The Dream Bearer by Walter Dean Myers

story went on that Cammie got sentenced to serve three years, but that didn’t satisfy everybody in the town because there had been a lot of back-and-forth between the blacks and the whites. Then some folks decided they needed to teach us all a lesson by lynching Cammie.
    â€œThe night they took Cammie out the jail we was all scared. Cammie was calling out for mercy and saying the farmer knew it wasn’t him, that he was a Christian man. They rounded up about nine of us and made us come into the middle of town, Iris Street, where they were holding Cammie. They put him up on a Model T Ford, tied his legs together, and put a rope around his neck. There was a general store on the corner, and some of them was drinking soda from bottles they had bought.
    â€œThey all had guns—shotguns, pistols, rifles. There wasn’t nothing we could do about it but stand there and watch the whole thing. Cammie, he commenced to praying and calling out to his wife to take care of his kids. It was a pitiful sight, but not pitiful enough to move the cold hearts that was gathered there that night.
    â€œAfter the hanging the white folks drifted off, and some of the black folks stayed to help take Cammie down. Then somebody said that Ed Johnson might have had a stroke because he couldn’t move. I went over to Ed and seen something that I will never forget all mylife, and which I dream about all the time. All the time. Ed was naturally a coal-dark black man, but he had lost his color. He looked gray, and ashy. ‘Moses, help me, I can’t move.’ That’s what he said. You could see he was struggling to take a step, but nothing happened.”
    I was hoping that Mr. Moses would stop his story, but he didn’t.
    â€œWe got Cammie down and took him to the Free Will Baptist Colored Church, and some of the sisters stayed there with Cammie’s wife through the night,” Mr. Moses said. “Then we had to take Ed Johnson home. We got him home and laid him down on his bed. He begged us to stay with him. Just tarry awhile, he asked. But we were all upset about Cammie dying and we had our own families to take care of. I looked back at Ed in that bed, and something told me to go back and see to him. He looked cold, like somebody fixing to pass the vale, and I thought that if I had a blanket, if I could have got him warm, maybe he would have got his strength back. Ed Johnson didn’t get out of that bed but one time for the next three months, and that was when he died and they carried him out. He had lost all his strength—he didn’t have no more nature in him than a dead man.”
    â€œWhat you about, man? Scaring kids with your stupid stories?” The veins in Reuben’s neck were swelling. “Why don’t you just shut that mess up?”
    â€œMan is scared by dreams and terrified by visions,” Mr. Moses’ voice rose and quivered as he spoke. “Andwhen I dream this dream, of men in a great circle, watching death grinning in their midst, and their strength falling away like the leaves of autumn, I am scared.”
    â€œPlease, Mr. Moses, please stop!” I said. “Please stop!”
    â€œGo on home with your father, David.” Mr. Moses spoke softly. “It’s getting dark.”
    The dream Mr. Moses told us scared me. My hand was shaking when I stood up. Reuben started off and I started to say good-bye to Mr. Moses, but I could only wave.
    I ran until I caught up with Reuben, and we walked home together. He began to say bad things about Mr. Moses. He said that he should die. I wanted to ask him if he was scared, because he sounded as scared as I was, but I didn’t. I knew it would have made him even madder.
    We got home and Mama was sitting on the edge of the couch. She looked from me to Reuben and back at me, the way she always does. Then she asked me how my friend was.
    â€œI think he’ll be okay,” I said.
    â€œTell your mother what that