Later that afternoon, when the dinner had been all devoured, Mrs. Sunshine offered to take me on into town to pick up the uniforms and supplies we needed for school. Daddy stayed behind to help Mr. Joe and Ray clean up the place, with the kids in full-swing clean-up mode, too. I’d never had this kinda time with a lady, and even though it was only a Wal-Mart run, it sure felt like we were going someplace fancy.

Ray had printed up the different grade-level lists of required supplies, and they were each a page long. I didn’t know how I was going to buy all them expensive three-ring binders with all them dividers. They could be like five dollars apiece. And then the uniforms, too. Lordy, no!

Mrs. Sunshine pulled out a church envelope and handed it to me as she hummed “Amazing Grace.”

“What’s this?” I peeked inside, and it was a big ol’ wad of greenbacks.

“After that performance at Soul Food, the church members felt the Spirit hit them to give us up a collection. They’ve all had kids or grandkids going to The Dream and know about the uniforms and the likes of all you’d need, so they all wanted to help out.”

Mrs. Sunshine turned on the radio, still humming. She must have worked better with the background noise of the Lord’s words. I could fully understand that about her, even if other things about her didn’t make sense—like how she could take me in and see me for more than I really was. That was still the biggest mystery of them all.

“We can’t take no money from strangers.” It took enough of the world’s resources to eat and sleep and go to a doctor, let alone to buy glue sticks and uniforms.

“Strangers? Strangers? That hurts me, Sweet Potato. I ain’t no stranger to you. Them are my people back there. We take care of our kind.”

She frowned, glancing at the rearview mirror, and turning into some heavy traffic a little too sharply. She spit out a couple of improper words, which surprised me. She wasn’t the type I would have pegged for road rage. People have a way of surprising me every day.

“You are my sister in Christ, child. You are my son’s future. You are our hope. You ain’t no stranger to me. You are after my own heart. Now, you will take the good deeds of others and use them for good doings. You can’t not accept this gift of love. If the Spirit moves, then you must obey.”

She shook her head matter-of-factly. Something else I’d come to recognize in Mrs. Sunshine was that she meant what she said. I loved that and vowed I’d try to be more like her, at least in that sense.

“It’s hard for us in schools due to the fact of how much Daddy moves us around, Mrs. Sunshine. This here money could be all for nothing, and then those uniforms would be all worn out for no more use.”

I folded the money and set it down in the console tray. Like the seats, the console of the pearl Escalade was fancy leather. Mrs. Sunshine also didn’t seem the type to have such a nice ride. This car must have been parked behind the house, because it would have probably never survived out in the open street.

“The Dream is different. You know that practically every single person who goes to that school either joins the military or goes on to college. I’m not talking about a little bit of them. The success rate is phenomenal, because everyone there believes in the dream.”

She nodded again as if to encourage me to be one of those believers. How could I make her understand?

“Maize is different. He’s not like me. I worry about him most of all—even more than Bean.”

School was always so hard for Maize—the grades and all the social experiments that his peers always challenged him to partake in. It would always scar him deeper, make him a little rougher. This time, I was really scared for Maize, because he sounded more lost by the minute. Desperate, even. The storm clouds were seeming to hover over him and break clear over me. It wasn’t fair. I’d take all them dark clouds to get them away from my best friend.

Mrs. Sunshine asked, “What are your grades like?”

She swerved into the Wal-Mart parking lot, tires squealing, and found a space near the front.

“A’s, mostly. Maybe a C in English, every now and then, if my teachers can understand my way. Maize, it’s more than the D list for him. He can’t take the punishment like me. I guess I must have thicker skin.”

For the first time in my life, I might have been onto something. “That might be why Daddy always refers to me as the root vegetable of the family. I seem to be more rooted down, firmly planted. The storms don’t get to me, because I have them roots already spread out—enough to get what I need and keep going. And then—here I go again—that might be why Maize is different.”

Mrs. Sunshine laughed. “I love the way that you can explain yourself. You fascinate me, you do. How is Maize different, tell me?”

She pulled the four lists out of her purse and started down the school aisle, practically doing the shopping for me as we talked.

“Maize is like the tall stalks of corn in the field, swaying in a strong wind at drying time. He’s fragile, like the brittle kind left in the field. I don’t know how much more he can take before he snaps.”

Mrs. Sunshine grinned. “Well, then, we have us a new prayer request. We’ll just have to see about Maize, won’t we? We’ll take a special interest in him. Let him see the way Jesus can make a weak plant strong. Jesus is the one that builds us up in a time of trouble. You don’t let Maize trouble you no more. Jesus has got him. You hear me? Jesus has all of you. It’s not about what you have. It’s what God is. Remember that.”

I nodded. “I will.”

But even as I said it, I knew I was losing him.

She stopped by the beauty product aisle and bought some extras that weren’t on the lists, like butterfly glitter clips for Bell’s hair. They even sold The Dream t-shirts on a special rack by the bookbag section, and we each got one a different color. Mine was burgundy, because Mrs. Sunshine thought that would be most complementary to my coloring. We all got khaki pants, since we already owned the black pair of dress-ups. And we each got a polo shirt, too. Classy, if I did say so myself. I told Mrs. Sunshine how difficult it had always been to be in school with no wardrobe, and how uniforms were the next best thing to bologna-and-cheese sandwiches.

She pulled up to another storefront on the way home: Maria’s Discount, a secondhand place. The neighborhood made me a little nervous; the people here eyed Mrs. Sunshine’s ride suspiciously. But I loved this kind of store the best, because there was no telling what kind of treasure t-shirts you could find here. Mrs. Sunshine hollered at Maria like they were the best of friends, waved a hand at her, and took me right over to the section with The Dream uniforms. This place must have had the leftovers of graduates who had all went on to better themselves in the world and get out of this neighborhood.

One of the goons from the street was peering in through the window at us, and I didn’t like it one bit. Mrs. Sunshine didn’t even seem to notice, but he noticed us, and I felt the hairs rise on the back of my neck. Danger was lurking around every corner. The Devil was on the loose.

Mrs. Sunshine held up two more sets of clothes with dollar tags on them.

“But we got a set from Wal-Mart,” I protested. “We should have come here first.”

She insisted. “Something old and something new … that one suit won’t do.”

She snapped her fingers and kept moving on a mission.

I bit my lip. I’d hate to get all them sets of clothes and not be able to wear them again. But she insisted, and the register counter was piled with clothes. I saw a brown box out of the corner of my eye and asked if I could buy that, too.

Mrs. Sunshine chided. “Honey, you don’t need to buy no box. What for? I’ve got plenty of boxes back in the storeroom from the leftover shipments.”

She gave me something better than a box when we got back to her house: a solid, rubber tote with a purple top. I rubbed my hand across it. “You sure do like purple, Mrs. Sunshine. Why is that?”

“Purple is the color of the King, robed in majesty. That was the color of the robe they placed on Jesus while he was on trial. I go to the color purple to remind the world what sacrifice was made for us that day. We can share the good news of grace by the colors we show the world.” She transferred the clothes to the purple-lid box and tucked the bags in the trashcan.

I could hear the commotion still going on through the walls. Faint sounds of the kids singing made me smile. Mrs. Sunshine caught it.

“What is it, Sweet Potato?”

I pointed. “It’s my family.”

She laughed. “Seems to fit right in here, huh? I think so, anyway. God sure does know what He is doing, I tell you. I never doubted Him for a minute, mind you. But He sure knows His people.”

Ray shuffled out of his room, barefoot and wearing the jeans I loved to see him in. He was wearing his white shirt again. I found it refreshing he didn’t worry about what he wore or feel the need to be flashy. He was a t-shirt-and-jeans guy, and he was perfectly fine with that.

He smiled, a light in his eyes. “Hey.”

I was emotionally spent but had enough in me to whisper back, “Hey.”

Mrs. Sunshine patted the seat beside me and motioned for Ray to sit on down.

He kissed his momma on the cheek and gingerly took my hand in his, resting it on the pillow between us. His momma started right on.

“Ray, what is this plan of yours for the future? I’m sure wanting to know more details about it.”

He turned to me. “I am going to the Army, Momma. God needs me there now, not four years from now after a college degree. I’ll work on that later—while I’m in, even. They allow that with the chaplaincy program. I have to be there now.”

Mrs. Sunshine chided again. “Why the urgency? I thought you were settling yourself with the idea of going on up with Denise and starting on the seminary classes with her, first. Then you mentioned that ASVAB, and I knew your plans had gone straight in the opposite direction.”

“Sweet Potato changed all of that.” He wasn’t backing down, only staring right at me.

I bit my lip, and my insides started to boil. He didn’t need to bring my name into anything, as if I was worth mentioning. “Don’t join the Army because of me.”

He turned to his momma and winked. “I’m joining the Army because of her. I was going to eventually end up there anyway, Momma. You knew that. Now, I can support her and her family and still do what God is leading me to do. I’ll be a Chaplain Assistant. That will be an opportunity for me to learn firsthand.”

She kept her poise, her hands crossed in her lap, but I knew she wasn’t one-hundred percent convinced. “But you’d be an officer if you wait.”

He was solemn. “It’s not about what I would have. It is what God is, Momma. God is leading me to this now. I feel that.”

I laughed softly. He listened to every word his momma said and knew how to remind her of them. How many times had Mrs. Sunshine used that line?

She relented. “Okay, I support you, but Sweet Potato is still in school. How do you think you’re going to support her? You are talking about whisking her away with you to some base, but she’s still in school and has her family to think of.”

He turned to me. His voice was soft and sweet, reminding me of the rush after tasting the best candy you’d ever had. The kind that made your cheeks tingle.

“I love you, Sweet Potato.”

His eyes were shining, almost like tears were framing his thick lashes. It was my turn. He deserved to be told what was in my intimate heart. He’d told me in front of his momma; he’d probably told Daddy, too. This was the moment he needed me to confirm it.

I held my breath, looked straight at him, and got up the courage to begin this race with him. On your mark, get set, go.

“I love you, too, Ray.”