laugh as Oliver groaned. Cousin Hugh and Cousin Sylvie had driven down from Jackson on Friday. Having grown up here in the community, they both had known Reverend Gabson well. “Shoot! Gonna be all hell to pay now,” said Oliver.
“Not if you haven’t been into something,” I smart-mouthed.
Oliver did not find that funny.
But that wasn’t the last of Christopher-John and Little Man’s bad news. “Ma Batie and Miz Noble, they even talking ’boutmeeting with y’all after the funeral to get this thing straightened out,” continued Christopher-John, and this time it wasn’t only Oliver who groaned.
I looked around at Moe. “You’ve been mighty quiet sitting back there. You got any secrets you want to tell?” I was having a high time teasing them all.
Moe smiled. “It was mine, Cassie, I wouldn’t be sitting here quiet.” I returned the smile, and the dimples deepened. But there was no smile deepening in Moe’s eyes, and that bothered me. Moe had been quiet all the way down from Jackson. That could have been because he was tired and sleepy from working all night at the box factory, but I didn’t think so. He had been quiet for some days now. Quiet was like Moe; this prolonged silence wasn’t.
Stacey put the car in gear. “I’m going to go park.”
Little Man and Christopher-John jumped in for the short ride. Stacey parked the Ford some distance from the many wagons and pickup trucks that dotted the grounds. He was taking no chances that somebody might accidentally hit the car. He stepped from the Ford, looked back at it, and frowned. Dust and insects marred the double coat of paint. Little Man frowned too. He didn’t like to see the car dirty any more than Stacey did. “We can clean it up after the funeral,” he said.
“Don’t bother,” Stacey replied. “It’ll just get messed up again on the drive back.”
“What time you leaving?”
“Midafternoon, I reckon. Want to give ourselves plenty of time to get back, seeing we got to work tonight. ’Sides that, I want to stop in Strawberry and see Mr. Jamison. Want to pay off my note today.”
“Well, why don’t you just pay him in Jackson?” suggested Christopher-John, and that made sense since Mr. Jamison nowhad an office in Jackson. “That way you won’t have to stop in Strawberry and you can stay here a bit longer.”
Stacey shook his head. “Don’t like going to his sister’s house in Jackson, and that’s where his office is. Don’t like going to that white neighborhood. Rather stop at his office in Strawberry.”
Christopher-John looked at me. “What about you, Cassie? You going to stay over and go back with Cousin Hugh and Cousin Sylvie tomorrow?”
“Can’t. I’ve got a debate to prepare on President Roosevelt’s New Deal. It’s a big part of my history grade. Not only that, but I’m supposed to be meeting some students from my class this evening at the cafe to study for it.”
“Too bad,” he said.
“Yeah, I know.”
“Look, we best go on and see the folks,” said Stacey. “Services’ll be starting pretty soon now.”
“You all go on,” I said. “I want to talk to Moe a minute.”
Stacey looked from me to Moe, nodded, and went on with Christopher-John and Little Man. As they left, Moe leaned against the car and smiled. “What is it, Cassie?”
“Something’s wrong.”
“Wrong? What you mean?”
“What I said. You’ve been mighty quiet—”
“You don’t think me and Sissy—”
“I don’t care about that.”
“Well, I ain’t had nothing to do with her. She’s Clarence’s girl.”
“Didn’t think you did.”
“Then what you asking, Cassie?”
“Like I said, something’s wrong, and I know it. You been too quiet, not hardly even talking.”
“That ain’t so.”
“This morning when you came off work, I was figuring something was wrong. Now I want to know what.”
“Cassie—”
“Don’t you tell me it’s nothing. I want to know.”
Moe sighed and looked away across
“Not if you haven’t been into something,” I smart-mouthed.
Oliver did not find that funny.
But that wasn’t the last of Christopher-John and Little Man’s bad news. “Ma Batie and Miz Noble, they even talking ’boutmeeting with y’all after the funeral to get this thing straightened out,” continued Christopher-John, and this time it wasn’t only Oliver who groaned.
I looked around at Moe. “You’ve been mighty quiet sitting back there. You got any secrets you want to tell?” I was having a high time teasing them all.
Moe smiled. “It was mine, Cassie, I wouldn’t be sitting here quiet.” I returned the smile, and the dimples deepened. But there was no smile deepening in Moe’s eyes, and that bothered me. Moe had been quiet all the way down from Jackson. That could have been because he was tired and sleepy from working all night at the box factory, but I didn’t think so. He had been quiet for some days now. Quiet was like Moe; this prolonged silence wasn’t.
Stacey put the car in gear. “I’m going to go park.”
Little Man and Christopher-John jumped in for the short ride. Stacey parked the Ford some distance from the many wagons and pickup trucks that dotted the grounds. He was taking no chances that somebody might accidentally hit the car. He stepped from the Ford, looked back at it, and frowned. Dust and insects marred the double coat of paint. Little Man frowned too. He didn’t like to see the car dirty any more than Stacey did. “We can clean it up after the funeral,” he said.
“Don’t bother,” Stacey replied. “It’ll just get messed up again on the drive back.”
“What time you leaving?”
“Midafternoon, I reckon. Want to give ourselves plenty of time to get back, seeing we got to work tonight. ’Sides that, I want to stop in Strawberry and see Mr. Jamison. Want to pay off my note today.”
“Well, why don’t you just pay him in Jackson?” suggested Christopher-John, and that made sense since Mr. Jamison nowhad an office in Jackson. “That way you won’t have to stop in Strawberry and you can stay here a bit longer.”
Stacey shook his head. “Don’t like going to his sister’s house in Jackson, and that’s where his office is. Don’t like going to that white neighborhood. Rather stop at his office in Strawberry.”
Christopher-John looked at me. “What about you, Cassie? You going to stay over and go back with Cousin Hugh and Cousin Sylvie tomorrow?”
“Can’t. I’ve got a debate to prepare on President Roosevelt’s New Deal. It’s a big part of my history grade. Not only that, but I’m supposed to be meeting some students from my class this evening at the cafe to study for it.”
“Too bad,” he said.
“Yeah, I know.”
“Look, we best go on and see the folks,” said Stacey. “Services’ll be starting pretty soon now.”
“You all go on,” I said. “I want to talk to Moe a minute.”
Stacey looked from me to Moe, nodded, and went on with Christopher-John and Little Man. As they left, Moe leaned against the car and smiled. “What is it, Cassie?”
“Something’s wrong.”
“Wrong? What you mean?”
“What I said. You’ve been mighty quiet—”
“You don’t think me and Sissy—”
“I don’t care about that.”
“Well, I ain’t had nothing to do with her. She’s Clarence’s girl.”
“Didn’t think you did.”
“Then what you asking, Cassie?”
“Like I said, something’s wrong, and I know it. You been too quiet, not hardly even talking.”
“That ain’t so.”
“This morning when you came off work, I was figuring something was wrong. Now I want to know what.”
“Cassie—”
“Don’t you tell me it’s nothing. I want to know.”
Moe sighed and looked away across
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