Charlie climbs up the boards
at the foot of my bed
and into hers.
She didn’t close our door.
Mama’s voice in the kitchen
joins Aunt Bee’s.
They are talking quiet,
but we can still hear.
A new school
might do them good,
Aunt Bee says.
Let them come to mine.
They could start over
and no one would know.
Aunt Bee is a principal
at a big elementary school
in the city.
We celebrated real good
when she got the job,
being as women aren’t usually
picked for things like principals.
I bet she’s a real good one, too.
A little scary, but not too much.
A little nice, but not too much.
Things are just as bad
over there, aren’t they?
Mama says.
I lift my head to hear better.
Maybe worse, Aunt Bee says.
I expect we’ll have
some protestors.
Maybe violence.
Some white students
leaving the district.
Hundreds, you mean, Mama says.
It’s happening all over now.
They’re calling it
the new white flight.
I guess they think
schools with blacks
aren’t good enough
for their precious kids.
It’s real sad.
what they’re talking about.
I know all that, Aunt Bee says.
But it doesn’t matter.
There’s a long silence
before she says,
It would give Paulie and Charlie
a new start.
No one would know
their white daddy killed a white man
to protect a black man.
The air is sucked
right out of my lungs.
I can’t breathe.
I don’t know if I’ll
ever breathe again.
Paulie would never
agree, Mama says.
Paulie doesn’t have
another choice, Aunt Bee says.
Her voice is louder this time.
I could pick them up and
drop them off every day.
You wouldn’t have to
worry about it.
They’re quiet
for a few minutes,
and then Mama says,
I’ll talk to them.