The Road to Memphis

by Mildred D. Taylor

  Stacey looked at me hard. He looked at the torn stockings, at the muddy coat, and grabbed my arm. “What happened to you? They touch you?”

  “No . . . I wasn’t even at the car. I . . . I went down to check out those bushes that man was talking about, and I . . . I fell on the path. Saw those men by the car when I came back.”

  He stared at me, as if not wholly believing me. I didn’t like lying to him, but I knew I could not tell him the truth, not if we were going to get away from here. I was afraid of what he would do if he knew the truth.

  Moe hurried over. “What’s wrong? Cassie, what happened to you?”

  “I’m all right.”

  Stacey glanced out the window, then called to Willie, who was standing at the counter with two pies in his possession. “Willie! Come on! We’re going!”

  Little Willie looked around. “What ’bout the fan belt, man?”

  “Can’t worry ’bout that now. We’ve got to go.”

  Little Willie started to protest, but then he saw me and minded Stacey’s tone. He nodded, got his change, and we left the store.

  The men saw us coming. One of them still standing by the pump hollered, “’Ey, Orley! Feel like a little cooooon hunt t’night?”

  “Could be the right time,” replied Orley. “Been seein’ plenty of them low smellin’ things ’round.”

  We crossed to the car. One of the men stood in front of the car, another leaned against the hood, and Orley blocked the driver’s door. We stopped. Stacey studied Orley, studied the other men, then looked back at Orley and said, “Excuse us, please, we’d like to get in.”

  Orley just looked at him and stayed where he was. “Nigger, where you get this car?”

  There was a moment of silence before Stacey answered. “Bought it.”

  “Where a nigger like you get money t’ buy a car, that’s what I wanna know.”

  Stacey’s jaw set, and he said nothing.

  “You answer me!”

  “Worked for it.”

  “You sure it’s yours?”

  “I’m sure. Now, I’d be much obliged if you’d move so we can go.”

  Orley gave Stacey a long, silent stare.

  Stacey stared back.

  Orley moved.

  Stacey opened the door and ordered me in. I slid quickly inside, then glanced back down the path in front of the restrooms and wondered about my purse. I hated leaving that purse. It had been my favorite, and more important than that, all my money for Moe was in it.

  Moe went around to the other side of the car, and Little Willie opened the back door and woke Clarence. Clarence sat up sleepily. “What?” he said, then he saw the men. “What—what’s going on?”

  “Not now,” Willie said as he got in.

  Stacey started the car. The man leaning against the hood still remained. Another of the men moved in front of the car. “You ain’t gonna just let these niggers go like this, are ya, Orley?” he asked. “Thought we was gonna do us some huntin’.”

  Orley seemed to be studying on the matter.

  Stacey gave him no time to announce his decision. He accelerated and the car moved forward. The man in front of the car jumped like a scared rabbit and leapt out of the way. The man leaning against the hood fell away, too, and yelled an obscenity. Stacey flattened his foot to the gas, and we sped away, off the lot and down the highway.

  Stacey checked the rearview mirror. Little Willie let out a long, slow whistle at our escape. I looked back. “You expecting them to follow?” I asked Stacey.

  He hesitated. “Don’t know.”

  All of us kept watch of the road. It remained black, except for the ghostlike gray cut by the Ford’s headlights into the night. After several minutes Little Willie said, “Take it easy, children, take it easy. Them peckerwoods ain’t giving us no mind.”

  No sooner than he had said that, lights appeared behind us.

  “Course, now, I could be wrong,” he added. He stared uneasily out the back window. “Guess they headed same way’s us.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed, “looks that way.”

  Stacey checked the mirror, keeping track of the lights. I fixed my eyes on the road ahead, not needing to see the lights to know they were there or to know the evil they could bring. For an eternity, it seemed, the car rolled on. For an eternity, it seemed, the lights followed right behind. Stacey sped on, but the lights began to gain. Finally Stacey said, “I’m turning off up here.”

  “They’ll just follow,” I said.

  “Not if I turn off the lights.”

  “Boy, you crazy? You can’t turn off the lights!” But Stacey paid no attention to my words as he pressed his foot flat to the floor and told us to hang on. We left the highway and swept onto a dirt road. The lights followed. Dust billowed out behind us, and rocks smacked hard against the car’s underbelly. A hill shot up before us. Stacey took it and on the downward side turned off the lights and leaned forward. “Look for a road! Look for a road!” he cried. We found one a few seconds later, and Stacey took the car in. He held tight to the new road several hundred feet before pulling the car off into a stand of trees. We stopped abruptly as the car hit something hard and low on the ground, ran over it with a jolt, and died. Then we sat. Waiting. We all knew what could happen if those cars were following and those men found us.

  I was scared. I knew Stacey, Little Willie, Clarence, and Moe were scared too. We had all known this kind of fear before. But for Stacey and me that had been years before, and Papa and Uncle Hammer and Mr. Morrison had been there to protect us, to protect us all. Their strength had made things all right, had made us feel safe. But they weren’t here now to give that strength. Now we were on our own.

  After some time Clarence broke the silence. “Stacey, just how long we gonna be sitting here?” he said.

  Little Willie gave Stacey no time to respond. “Be sitting here all night, we hafta!” he answered in sharp reply.

  The car again grew quiet, and we continued to wait, but the night was long and seemed to have no end. Finally Stacey reached under his seat and pulled something out. I couldn’t see what he held in his hand, but then he opened the car door, and the moonlight pouring in made it very clear. He was holding a gun.

  I grabbed his wrist. “What you doing with that?”

  “Going to walk up to that highway and see if those cars are there.”

  I held tighter. “Not with that gun, you’re not. What’re you doing with that thing anyway?”

  “Always carry it.”

  “Since when?”

  “Look, Cassie, Uncle Hammer always ride with a gun.”

  “Well, you’re not Uncle Hammer!”

  He jerked his wrist from me. “You rather I go up there without a gun?”

  “Rather you not go at all.”

  “Well, I’m not going to sit out here all night afraid of something maybe’s not even there.”

  “And if it is?”

  He looked out into the night’s blackness. “They don’t see us, then I guess we play possum.”

  “And they do?”

  Stacey looked back. “Leastways we’ve got the gun,” he said and got out. The other doors to the Ford opened, and Moe, Little Willie, and Clarence stepped out. “Y’all best stay case there’s trouble,” he said.

  “You figure there’s not trouble waiting for you?” asked Moe.

  “I’ll do better alone,” he said and headed for the road.

  I got out, too, and called after him as softly as the night would permit. “You be careful You hear me, now?”

  “I’ll be okay, Cassie,” he said, then moved off into the night. Soon we could no longer see him. I walked around the car and leaned heavily against it. Little Willie put his arm around me, but for once he had nothing to say. Moe and Clarence were silent as well. It seemed forever, the time Stacey was gone. Finally he came back; he said he had seen nothing.

  “How far up you walk?” questioned Little Willie, his voice not quite sounding like himself. “Maybe you
ain’t gone up far ’nough.”

  Stacey’s look was sharp in the moonlight. “Went up a spell both ways, back the way we came and up the road too. They there, they well hidden.”

  “Maybe that’s what they is. Maybe they is well hidden, and you just ain’t seen ’em.”

  “You wanna go take a look, then?” Stacey shot back at Little Willie. He slapped the gun into Willie’s hand. “Here! Take this thing and go on and you look for yourself!”

  Little Willie was silent, his head bowed as he looked at the gun in his hand, then he handed it back to Stacey. “Man, I don’t want this thing. You say they ain’t there, then they ain’t there. Ain’t no more to say ’bout it.” He sounded more like himself now.

  Stacey took the gun and started around to the other side of the car. I followed after him. “Stacey,” I whispered, “you think they ever were out there? You think they followed us at all?”

  Stacey was a long time silent. Then he looked toward the highway. “They weren’t out there, Cassie, it doesn’t really matter now, does it?”

  “I figure it does. I figure you think that way too.”

  He just looked at me and said nothing.

  Little Willie slapped the hood of the car and walked around to the other side. “Ah, hell,” he said, opening the back door. “Let’s get outa here and get on up to Memphis.”

  “Yeah,” said Moe, “I think it’s time.”

  I questioned leaving right now. “Don’t you think we ought to wait here a spell and make sure those men aren’t out there?” I was still scared, and I wasn’t too proud to let them know it either. “Maybe we ought to just wait here till morning, when we can see something.”

  “Well, I don’t even know if the car’ll start,” said Stacey, getting in. “We hit something, and I don’t know how bad it is.” He slid the key into the ignition, but nothing happened. “Damn!”

  I looked at him, feeling his anger and his frustration in a word I had seldom heard him use before.

  He got back out, and flashlight in hand, he took a look under the hood. The rest of us joined in the inspection, though I didn’t know what the devil I was looking for. Finally I said, “What is it?”

  “The fan belt’s completely shot now, and some wires got knocked loose. One of them’s the distributor cap wire. I can fix the wires but not the fan belt.”

  “Then we stay here, huh?” I asked, feeling some relief.

  Stacey slammed down the hood. “Looks like there’s nothing else we can do. Might’s well try getting ourselves some sleep.”

  Moe walked off. “I’m not feeling sleepy. I’ll just stay out here awhile and keep watch.”

  “Then I’ll just keep you company there, hoss,” volunteered Little Willie with a yawn. “Rather not get caught out in the middle of these here wood’s sleeping.”

  Stacey decided he didn’t want to sleep either. They were all being very manly, but I knew they were scared, just like I was. Stacey turned to me. “Cassie, why don’t you go ’head and sleep? You can stretch out in back of the car awhile.” He took my arm and walked to the rear of the car with me and spoke quietly. “Look, you want to go before you lie down, I’ll go on out with you, help you find a spot and keep watch.”

  I considered his offer, then decided I would just wait until daylight. It was near that already. “That’s all right. I’ll just wait.”

  He looked at me with suspicion, then took hold of my shoulders. “You sure nothing happened to you back at that gas station?”

  “I’m sure,” I said, grateful that he hadn’t noticed I didn’t have my purse. “I’m okay.”

  He stared at me, as if not quite feeling settled about the thing, then he dropped his arms to his side, let me be, and walked back to the others.

  As I settled down on the backseat Clarence opened another pack of B.C. powder, threw back his head, and let the powder slide down. A few minutes later he got onto the front seat on the driver’s side, heaved his long body over, and leaned his head against the opposite door.

  “’Ey, hoss!” Little Willie hissed at him. “Don’t tell me you going off to sleep again, man! Not after all that sleepin’ you been doing ever since we left Jackson.”

  “Just wanna rest myself a minute,” Clarence answered. “See if I can’t get my head to ease up. I’ll be on out to keep watch after while.”

  “You pitiful, boy, you know that? Pitiful!”

  I leaned forward and tapped Clarence’s shoulder. “You all right?”

  “Yeah,” he sighed. “Yeah . . .”

  I let him be and tried to sleep. But sleep for me didn’t come. Clarence, though, seemed to be having no trouble sleeping; he was soon snoring. I listened to his snoring and tried to get myself warm. For some reason now, as I lay there alone on that backseat, my knees pulled toward my stomach, my arms wrapped against my chest, I couldn’t stop shaking. My stomach felt queasy, and I kept having to swallow away the saliva that kept filling my mouth. I pulled my legs tighter to my chest, gripped them, and tried to make the queasiness go away. I tried not to think on what had happened at the gas station. I tried not to dwell on the fear; I tried not to dwell on the men.

  Instead I thought of good things. I thought of home, of Mama and Papa and Big Ma, of Christopher-John and Little Man. I saw myself sitting by a crackling red and blue fire, smelling the pine burn and listening to a soft winter’s rain. I thought of a dark winter’s morning, sitting down to breakfast with the family all around, and enjoying the warm smells of Big Ma’s biscuits, just baked, and sausages that had been cured in the fall, and of dipping into huge mounds of fried grits and scrambled eggs and pear preserves. I thought of all that and fixed my mind on it. I wished the fear away.

  I saw myself lying on that thick feather mattress next to Big Ma. I heard her snoring and rolled toward her, feeling secure. I thought of the mule, Jack, and his steady pace when I rode him. I thought of Lady, our golden mare, and how her sleek body felt as I raced her across the pasture, the wind slapping in my face. I saw myself down by the Caroline. I saw the forest, tall and green, shading my walk along the trail to the pond, and I thought of the Little Rosa Lee and saw myself with a fishing pole in my hand and my bare feet skimming the water on a hot summer’s day. I only allowed myself to think of good things, and those good things comforted me.

  But the good thoughts wouldn’t stay. I couldn’t make them stay. The warm bed and Big Ma’s snoring faded in the reality of the black, cold night. The Caroline and the Little Rosa Lee grew cold and froze. The warm smells of breakfast were over-come by the stink of the wild. The swift ride atop Lady, the wind against my face, was now a terror. I was falling. My stockings were ripping. I was in the mud, and angry, foul-talking men were kicking at me. I felt the humiliation and the fear again, and they were more than I could bear.

  I screamed.

  Clarence sat straight up and looked back. “Cassie?”

  I had fallen asleep, but there was no time to tell him that, for the queasiness had been real. I dashed from the car and tried to make it beyond the clearing to the trees and the brush. “Cassie!” Stacey called after me. “Cassie, what’s wrong?”

  “I feel sick on the stomach,” I managed to cry out, and kept on running into the blackness, trying to find some shelter to take my fear. I looked for a spot to crouch in the darkness, found some bushes, fell to my knees and threw up. I couldn’t stop retching. Stacey came after me, but I sent him away. When the vomiting was finally over, I remained there behind the bushes for some while, feeling weak, feeling so far from home and alone in this wild, even with the boys so near. On my knees, the vomit all over my once beautiful clothes, I broke down and cried.

  When I returned to the car, both the back and front doors were open and Moe was sitting on the front seat facing the open door, his feet planted on the running board, and he was looking toward the woods. Clarence, Little Willie, and Stacey stood beside the car.

  Moe got out as I approached. “You all right?” he asked.

  “Y
eah, I’m fine. Just got an upset stomach, that’s all.”

  “Thought you had more’n that,” said Clarence. “That screaming scared the daylights outa me, girl.”

  “I was screaming because of a dream.”

  Stacey came over and cupped my shoulder. “You sure you okay?” He was being very tender with me. I knew he had to be worried and was no doubt regretting his decision to let me come along.

  I nodded.

  Little Willie, too, looked concerned. “’Ey, Cassie, why don’t you get on back inside? Lie down on that back seat. Moe, you sit on back there with her. Any of the rest of us wanna sleep, we can get in front.”

  I didn’t argue with that. I got in, so did Moe. I stretched out, as much as I could, my head on Moe’s lap, my legs pulled again to my stomach, and tried to keep from throwing up anymore.

  “You comfortable?” Moe asked softly, leaning down, his hand gently upon my head.

  “Comfortable as I’m going to get, I reckon.”

  I saw his smile, then closed my eyes.

  When I awoke, I was alone in the car. As I moved there was an awful stinging in my knees, and it took me a few moments to realize where I was. I sat up slowly. The sun was barely up, rising timidly over a ridge of pines and white oaks. We were in a small clearing that looked to have been purposely hacked out of a brooding forest. All around the clearing, except for the trail that led back to the highway, there was nothing but pine and oak and brush. I squinted out at the sun, then noticed the boys standing quietly off to one side, staring at the car, and I got out.

  “Yeah, man, you can fix it!” said Little Willie. “Why, shuckies! Ain’t that bad!”

  “What’s not so bad?” I asked.

  “’Ey, Cassie!”

  “How you feel?” asked Stacey.

  “Don’t feel like throwing up, but I don’t know if that’s saying a whole lot. What’s wrong?”

  “The car,” said Willie. “Just telling Stacey here, it can be fixed.”

  “Don’t want it fixed.” Stacey was adamant.

  “What you mean, you don’t want it fixed?” I countered, figuring they were talking about the fan belt. There was no choice about fixing that. “We’ve got to get a new fan belt so we can get out of here.”