Lapeer County, July 1967
Two days and William still hadn’t called.
News was officially out on the disturbance in Detroit. Buildings were burning, stores were looted, hundreds of people had already been arrested, and rumors were spreading of rooftop sniping and police brutality. The National Guard had been called in, but the situation only deteriorated all the more.
Where was William in all this?
Nora picked up the phone, hesitated a moment, and dialed Diane’s number. They hadn’t spoken in years, but she was running out of options. It rang three times, four, five. Nora hung up. She knew who she needed to call. But she couldn’t. The last time she had seen her mother was when she had all but thrown her out of the house two years before.
She made herself dial. One ring. Two. Then Nora heard her father’s voice.
“Daddy? I need your help.”
“Nora? Nora, what’s wrong?”
“I—I need you to come pick me up.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m at the house in Lapeer. I need you to come pick me up right now, please.”
“Lapeer? What are you doing up there?”
“Mom can explain. Just please come get me. I have to get to Detroit.”
“You don’t want to come down here. Haven’t you seen the news?”
“William’s there and I haven’t heard from him and I’m afraid something happened to him.”
Silence. She hadn’t meant to say his name.
“Please, Daddy. Please.”
“Okay. But I’m bringing you back here to the house. You are not going to go out looking for that man in this.”
“Thank you.” She’d figure out how to look for William once she was there.
Nora packed two suitcases, one for her and one for William, then walked downstairs to wait on the front porch. By the time her father pulled up, she felt as if she might throw up from the potent combination of heat and anxiety.
Daniel Balsam climbed out of his black 1967 Corvette Stingray. Nora would not rush into his arms, no matter how much she needed someone to hold her up at that moment. Then he took a step toward her. The first step.
“Was that door always orange?”
“No.”
He looked at the two suitcases sitting on the porch steps. “Those aren’t going to fit. The smaller one might.”
“I didn’t know you’d be driving a Corvette.”
“I always drive a Corvette.”
She sighed. “Come in a minute while I figure this out.”
Nora laid the suitcases on the settee and began redistributing their contents.
“This is incredible,” Daniel said. “It’s exactly as I remember it.”
Nora snapped the smaller of the two suitcases closed again. “Did you spend much time here as a child?”
“Not much. My father never wanted anything to do with the place. But I went with my Uncle Ben and my cousins a few times.”
Daniel took the suitcase outside and shoved it into the small space behind their seats. “Barn still out back?” he asked as he pulled away.
“Yes.” Nora fiddled with the radio.
“You don’t need that. They don’t know anything. I can tell you that the city is going up in flames and the idiots are shooting at the firemen trying to put it out. They’re burning down their own neighborhood. They’re trying to get the Army called in, but that fool Cavanaugh will have to do some serious politicking to get any help.”
Nora was quiet.
Daniel turned his attention to the road. “Where does his family live?” he asked.
“A few blocks from where it started. Twelfth and Seward.”
“Are they still there?”
“I hope not. William said his mother and sister were going to his aunt’s house.”
“Where is she?”
“Somewhere off Linwood. I don’t know.” Nora tried to read the side of his face. “Have you heard anything else?”
“All I know is that it’s a mess.”
She felt like he was holding back. But perhaps that was best. Knowing the extent of the destruction wouldn’t put her mind at ease. They were quiet for a few miles, but the air hung heavy with unanswered questions.
“How did you even meet this guy?” her father finally said.
“I already told you. Apparently you weren’t listening very well.”
“Or maybe something more important drove that information out of my head that day,” he said meaningfully.
Nora sighed. “I met him at an art exhibition. He’s a photographer. He takes very telling spontaneous portraits.” She gave him a harsh look. “Shows people as they really are, when they aren’t posturing.”
Her father nodded. “And photography is how he makes his living?”
“No. He works for GM in Flint.”
“In a factory.”
She hated that he assumed it. “He makes good money. We’re doing just fine.”
“No need to get defensive, I’m just asking. Just wondering how this guy managed to turn your head at all.”
“You’re so superficial, Daddy.”
“Maybe I am, but it’s not that. We raised you smarter than that. Why give up your family and your home and your car for a guy who works on the line and takes a pretty picture?”
She folded her arms across her chest. “You were the one who took all of that away. And anyway, not all his pictures are so pretty. That’s what got my attention at first. A certain photo he had taken of an angry businessman just a moment before he attacked him.” She saw his eyes narrow almost imperceptibly. “He told me that the man actually destroyed his camera.”
The car began to accelerate. She pushed a little further.
“It so happens that I recognized the man in the photo, and I didn’t think the photographer should have taken it, much less displayed it, so I offered to buy him a new camera in exchange for it. It’s funny, you know? If that man hadn’t smashed his camera, I never would have talked to him in the first place.”
“I see,” he said stiffly. “And what did you do with this picture?”
“I still have it.”
He turned toward her. “What?”
“Daddy! The road!”
He swerved back into his lane. “Why wouldn’t you have destroyed it?”
“Because I wanted to keep looking at it.”
“Why?” he practically shouted.
She wheeled on him now. “At first I was trying to find something that would prove it wasn’t you. And when I finally accepted that it was, I kept looking at it so that the hate I saw in your eyes for the man I love would become hatred in my heart for you, so that it wouldn’t feel so horrible to have been thrown out of my own family.”
He cursed under his breath.
“You asked,” she said.
“I’m sorry I did.”
Nora shrugged and turned to look out the window. For several minutes, all she could hear were the tires on the road and the thrum of the V8.
“I’m not proud of that moment,” Daniel finally said. “I lost my temper on an already bad day, and I took it out on him because it was convenient.”
“Would you have done the same thing if he’d been white?”
“I’m not going to play that game. What’s done is done. I can’t go back in time and change it.”
“If you could go back in time—”
“Nora—”
“If you could, would you have thrown me out of my apartment, taken my car, and kicked me out of your life? Was that just a bad day you were taking out on me?”
Daniel stared straight ahead.
Nora looked hard at him. “Daddy, what did you mean when you said that black people ruined this family?”