Della May settled into her desk at school the next morning, carefully sneaking a peek at her brother Creed. He winked at her, then put a finger to his lips. She knew he’d hidden Scalawag in his desk. She also knew that if Miz Christy found out, she’d be mad as a skinned snake.
On Miz Christy’s very first day of teaching, Creed had brought Scalawag to school. She’d made Creed promise not to bring the raccoon again, and Creed had kept his promise until today. It wasn’t like Creed had a choice. Scalawag had been acting plumb strange, moping and refusing to eat. He usually followed Creed around like a hound dog, but lately, he’d taken to slipping out of the Allens’ cabin at night, heading off to who knows where.
This morning, when Scalawag wouldn’t even eat the fresh possum meat Creed had saved for him, Creed had decided the only thing to do was take the raccoon along to school, hidden in a burlap sack.
There were six Allen children altogether, but Della May was the only one Creed had told about Scalawag. He knew he could trust her. They were almost like best friends, although Della May sometimes wished she had a real best friend. Brothers didn’t really count. She always had Wanda Beck and Mary O’Teale, but neither of them liked to read the way Della May did, or just sit quietly in the woods and watch the animals and birds come and go.
Della May loved Creed, but sometimes he could be a bit of a troublemaker. She spent an awful lot of time pulling him out of one scrape or another. And she had a feeling today was going to be one of those days.
If Miz Christy found out about Scalawag, she’d be hopping mad. She might even tell their pa, and he’d been mad enough all on his own lately, fretting about the new folks down the road. Della May shuddered a little, just remembering how dark and mean his eyes had been yesterday.
Truth was, a lot of pas and mas were fretting lately. Many of Della May’s schoolmates were missing today, on account of they heard the Washingtons were coming to school. Her own pa had wanted to keep the children home, but Creed and Della May had begged and pleaded until he’d covered his ears and said “Be off with you, then,” in a growly voice.
Suddenly a hush fell over the room. Creed nudged her with his elbow.
In the doorway stood Miz Christy, the preacher, and a woman Della May had never seen before. She was wearing a blue dress like Della May’s ma wore sometimes, tattered at the edges, but clean. She had a smile like Della May’s ma, too, the shy kind. But her skin was nothing like Della May had ever seen before. It was a warm brown acorn color.
“Her skin . . .” Della may whispered to Creed, “it’s so purty.”
Creed sent her a hush-your-mouth look, and Della May realized she must have said something very wrong.
The ma stepped aside and some children came into the room. There were three of them, a girl and a boy, both older than Della May, and another girl, who looked to be just about eight. The older children had a proud look in their eyes, but the youngest girl just looked scared and hoping all at once.
She met Della May’s eyes. Della May started to smile, then stopped herself. She knew for a fact that would be wrong. Her pa had taught her that much.
“Pheww!” Lundy Taylor cried. “Somethin’s stinkin’ awful! Lordamercy, what is that smell?”
Some of the children giggled. Miz Christy’s face turned hard as stone. The little girl moved closer to her ma. Della May wondered if the girl was going to cry.
“That will be enough, Lundy,” the preacher scolded. Della May had never heard him sound so angry. “Quite enough.”
“Children,” Christy said, “I’m very pleased to introduce you to some new students who’ll be joining us today. The Washingtons have just moved to a place between Doctor MacNeill’s cabin and the Allens’. This is Louise, who’s fifteen. John is ten. And Hannah is eight.”
“They don’t belong in this school,” one of the older boys muttered. “They’s too stupid. Their kind got the brains of a half-wit rabbit.”
“Who said that?” Christy demanded.
Nobody spoke. Della May sneaked a glance at the girl named Hannah. No, she wasn’t crying. But she looked right scared. Della May wondered how it would feel if Lundy and the older boys were saying those things about her. They’d made fun of her sometimes, the way they did all the younger children. That was bad enough. But this talk had a meanness to it, sharp as a knife.
Della May knew that if she was Hannah, she’d probably be crying buckets by now. But maybe these people were different. Maybe they didn’t have the same kind of feelings as white folks.
“I want to make one thing clear from the start.” Christy went to the front of the schoolroom. “That kind of thing will not be tolerated in this room under any circumstances. The next person who speaks that way will be sent home from school for a week. And if it happens again, that person will be expelled.”
“Teacher?” Della May’s brother, Little Burl, raised his hand. “What’s ‘’spelled’?”
“Expelled. It means you can’t ever come back to school again, Little Burl.”
The preacher walked over to the big boys in the back of the room. He had a dark look on his face, worse even than when he was preachin’ up a storm on Sunday mornings. He talked to the boys in a low voice. Della May couldn’t hear the words. But she could sure tell he meant business.
Her pa had said it would be this way. The mission people siding with the Washingtons. Acting like they belonged here same as decent white folks. He’d said Miz Christy and Miz Alice and the preacher would be full of tales, just like Doctor MacNeill, but that the children shouldn’t believe a word they said.
Christy searched the room. “We need to get you children settled,” she said.
Della May sank lower in her seat. There was an empty desk right next to her.
“Louise and John, there’s a bench on the left side available. And Hannah, why don’t you take that desk next to Della May, right over there?”
Some of the children snickered. A few moved their desks.
Della May looked around helplessly. There was nowhere for her to move. She was trapped.
“You’ll be all right,” Creed advised. “Just pretend she ain’t there.”
While Christy said goodbye to the preacher and Mrs. Washington, the girl named Hannah slowly approached the empty desk beside Della May.
“You be Della May?” she asked in a soft voice.
Della May gave a nod, staring straight ahead.
“Then I guess this is where I’m supposed to be sittin’.”
Della May tried to pretend she wasn’t there, just like Creed had suggested. But it was awfully hard to pretend a living, breathing person was invisible.
“Maybe you and I could be friends,” Hannah said. And then something deep inside told Della May it was going to be impossible to pretend that Hannah Washington wasn’t there.