The Lions of Little Rock

by Kristin Levine

  “You keep working with that WEC, Marlee,” Betty Jean said. “We want to move forward so that Curtis and your friend Liz will have the same opportunities you do. Without having to leave town.”

  Yeah, I thought. That sounded pretty good to me.

  30

  THE CHRISTMAS PARADE

  December 6 came and went. Three moderate candidates were elected (Lamb, Tucker and Matson) and three segregationists, so the school board was deadlocked again. Still, Miss Winthrop managed to put a positive spin on it when I saw her as I climbed onto the Christmas float. “Three is better than none. We’ll get there yet, Marlee!”

  I nodded.

  “Besides, I’ve been getting a lot more threatening phone calls,” said Miss Winthrop. “I think that’s a good sign we’re making a difference.”

  We hadn’t gotten any more calls, thank goodness. Daddy hadn’t said a word about it to me, but I’d seen him talking to Mr. Haroldson. I remembered Daddy saying our neighbor was a member of the segregationist Capital Citizens Council. He was also on our party line and probably didn’t appreciate being woken up in the middle of the night. Maybe he’d put a stop to our calls.

  In any case, I didn’t want to think about that. Today was the Christmas parade and our float was impressive. There was a little hill built on a low platform, and the whole thing was being pulled by a tractor. The hill was covered with fake grass and flowers, and at the top was a throne. Reverend Mitchell sat in the chair and wore a fake beard and a long white robe, but every time he laughed, he kind of went “ho ho ho,” and he ended up reminding me more of Santa Claus than Jesus.

  I settled into a spot between a fake bush and a stuffed rabbit. Not sure why there was a rabbit—maybe it was left over from Easter? Practically everyone from our Sunday school class was there, so it was crowded. There was one space left right next to me.

  “Wonderful! Wonderful!” exclaimed Miss Winthrop, clapping her hands. “You really do look like the poor masses.”

  At the last minute, Little Jimmy ran up and sat down next to me. His hair was sticking up in all directions, as if he hadn’t combed it. “I overslept,” he said. “Thanks for saving me a seat.”

  I hadn’t, but it seemed rude to say that, so I just nodded.

  There was a lurch, and we started off.

  The crowd got larger and larger as we drove through town. Mother and Daddy were right near the start of the parade, smiling. Mrs. McDaniels and Sally stood next to them. Sally hadn’t been selected to ride on her church’s float. She’d complained about it for three days straight at school. Still, I waved to her, and she waved back.

  A little further down the route, I saw Curtis and Betty Jean and Pastor George waving so hard, I was afraid their hands would fall off. Next to them was Tommy, and a man and a woman who I guessed must be Liz’s parents. I waved at them too.

  Little Jimmy was watching me wave at them.

  Then the truck turned the corner and they were gone.

  Little Jimmy leaned over and whispered, “JT is saying you’re still friends with Liz.”

  I stared at him.

  “Are you?” asked Little Jimmy.

  I shook my head no.

  “Oh,” said Little Jimmy, “I was hoping it was true. I liked Liz.” He pulled his notebook out and found a stub of pencil and started to write.

  I wanted to tell him it was true, but when I counted 2, 3, 5, 7, what came out instead was, “What do you write in there?”

  “Words.”

  “About what?”

  “Things that are too hard to say aloud,” said Little Jimmy.

  Maybe I was the one who needed a notebook, not Liz. “What are you writing now?”

  Little Jimmy gave me a funny look. I was sure he wasn’t going to answer me, when he said, “How I think you’re lying. And that I wish you’d tell her hi for me.”

  My mouth made a little round O. “If I run into her, I will,” I stammered finally.

  “Thanks,” said Little Jimmy. And he went back to his writing.

  I wasn’t sure what to think. Now I’d added Little Jimmy to my talking list. He’d accused me of lying, but somehow, I still got the feeling that he wanted to be my friend. After all, he’d warned me about JT.

  I thought doing JT’s homework meant he would keep his mouth shut. I couldn’t think of any other way to get him to be quiet, except to be utterly silent on the topic myself. That way, it’d only seem like mean-spirited gossip. At least, that was what I hoped.

  The rest of the parade was ruined by worrying about JT, and when it finally ended and I climbed off, guess who was waiting for me? Yep, that’s right. JT himself.

  “Congrats, Marlee,” JT said. “The mayor just announced your float won first place.”

  I glared at him.

  “What?” he said. “What did I do?”

  I turned my back to him. Red was across the street, watching a colored man who was cleaning up after the parade, sweeping trash into a pile. When the man was done, he turned to get his dustpan, and while he wasn’t looking, Red walked through the pile, kicking his feet until bits of paper and bottle caps were strewn across the street again. He was humming “White Christmas.”

  “You missed a spot,” said Red.

  The man glared at Red once, then slowly started sweeping up the mess.

  When he was done, Red stepped into the pile again. “Like jumping in leaves,” he said. “Try it, JT. It’s fun!”

  JT walked into the street and halfheartedly kicked a bottle.

  Their father, Mr. Dalton, appeared then. He was a large, beefy man who looked like his younger son, if you blew JT up with a bicycle pump to twice his size. “Come on, boys,” he said. “Let’s go.” His voice was overpowering, like the smell of the schnapps my father sometimes drank after a big meal.

  Mrs. Dalton hovered behind him, gray and silent. Red started singing as they walked off, but he changed the words: “I’m dreaming of a white Central.”

  Mr. Dalton laughed.

  The colored man gripped his broom tighter and started sweeping yet again, but I could see the rage in his eyes.

  31

  AN UNWELCOME CHRISTMAS GIFT

  We spent every Christmas with Granny in Pine Bluff. She was short like me, and wore faded dresses that she’d bought way before I was born. Her hair was the color of buttermilk, and that was her drink too, rich and comforting.

  When we arrived on Christmas Eve, we put up the tree and strung popcorn chains with cranberries on the pine branches. Judy’s boyfriend stopped by to help, though she told Mother and Daddy he was her friend, not her boyfriend. I thought Robert Laurence was as goofy-looking as he’d seemed in his picture, but he kept smiling at my sister, and she kept grinning back, so I guess he was okay.

  Daddy had bought Granny a TV for Christmas. She hadn’t had one before. “Don’t need one, either—you shouldn’t have spent the money” is what she said. But after dinner she was the one who said, “Well, as long as that contraption’s here, you might as well set it up.”

  So while Mother and Judy and I hung the stockings, David and Daddy unwrapped and positioned the new set. We all sat down with a cup of hot chocolate and a bowl of roasted chestnuts to watch the ten o’clock news.

  The weatherman was just starting his report. “Now, tonight we’ve got something extra special on radar,” he said, a twinkle in his eye. “It seems to be a man on a sled being pulled by reindeer.” He paused for a moment, examining his screen. “Yes, sir,” said the weatherman, grinning, “I do believe Santa Claus is on his way!”

  Granny laughed so hard, I was afraid her false teeth would fall out.

  After the news, Judy and I went up to her room. There were two twin beds and a small desk where Judy did her homework. Even though we were in the same room, I could f
eel the distance between us. “Which bed should I take?” I asked.

  “You can have the one by the window,” said Judy.

  I sat down on the worn quilt. There was a large chestnut tree just outside the window.

  “Did Granny get the chestnuts from the tree?” I asked. Judy didn’t respond. When I turned to look at her, I realized she was already asleep.

  I could never sleep on Christmas Eve, so I sat up and gazed at the moon and stars through the branches. Even though I knew I was too old, I kept hoping to see Santa. I didn’t feel tired at all, but I guess at some point I must have put my head on the pillow, because a moment later, Judy was shaking me awake. “Merry Christmas, Marlee.”

  I smiled back. “Merry Christmas, Judy.” I put on my robe and followed her down the stairs.

  Daddy stood at the bottom, leaning against the railing and sipping a cup of coffee. “There you girls are.”

  He winked at me and said, “I think Santa might have left you something.”

  There were oranges and walnuts in my stockings. Judy and I each got new socks and a new sweater (cashmere—mine was pink, and hers was green), and I got a copy of the new Buddy Holly album, That’ll Be the Day. I was just going to ask to use Granny’s record player when Daddy cleared his throat and said, “I believe there’s one more present no one has opened yet.”

  I glanced around the room. I didn’t see any unopened boxes. “Where?”

  “You have to find it,” said Daddy.

  “Who’s it for?” asked Judy.

  “All of you,” said Daddy.

  Judy and David started searching then, looking in corners and boxes and under scraps of paper. I sat still for a moment and watched Daddy. He kept glancing at the tree.

  I went over and looked between the glass balls and the popcorn chains for an ornament we hadn’t hung there the day before. It only took me a minute to find it—a small wooden airplane, hand-carved, with a note taped to the tail.

  “Marlee’s found it!” exclaimed Daddy.

  Everyone crowded around me. “What does it say?” asked David.

  I unfolded the note and cleared my throat: “This entitles the Nisbett Family to one airplane ride from Pine Bluff to Little Rock.”

  “An airplane ride?” Mother asked.

  “Oh, Daddy,” Judy exclaimed, racing over to give him a big hug. “How exciting!”

  “Wow!” said David.

  “An airplane ride?” I repeated Mother’s words.

  Daddy picked up the small wooden plane and made it soar through the air, like a little boy playing with a toy. “Flight is one of the modern miracles. Why, I tell you, there’s nothing like soaring high over the trees like a bird.”

  Flying meant we’d be high in the air, looking down. Kind of like standing on the top of the high dive. And that was not an experience I wanted to have again.

  “An airplane ride is expensive,” said Mother. “We usually buy the children savings bonds.”

  “Thought we needed something a little more exciting this year,” said Daddy.

  “Are you going to come with us?” Judy asked Daddy.

  “Nah, I’ve already been up in an airplane twice. Besides, somebody’s got to drive the car back to Little Rock.”

  “How about Granny?” asked David. “You want to come along?”

  Granny shook her head. “I remember the first time I rode in an automobile. Seemed unnatural then to move across the ground so quickly. But flying? No, thank you. I’m not a bird, and I’m keeping my two feet firmly on the ground.” Then she smiled sheepishly. “Besides, I want to stay home and watch my new TV.”

  Everyone laughed then, everyone except me. I was longing for a savings bond.

  32

  THE AIRPLANE RIDE

  While we were at Granny’s, Judy talked about Robert Laurence so much, David threatened to start charging her a nickel every time she said his name. To be fair, she also asked about my math lessons with Mr. Harding and painted my nails and listened to the Buddy Holly album with me until we both knew all the words by heart. But there was still a distance between us, silences in our conversations where there used to be none. No matter what I did, I couldn’t find the right moment to tell her about Liz.

  All too soon, it was December 31 and we were driving to the airport. My stomach was one big knot. I knew I was going to hate flying. I didn’t like new things. I didn’t like heights. Planes were new, and they went high in the air. Plus, they sometimes crashed. All those things were bad.

  I wished I could stay with Granny, watching the nice, safe TV. But Daddy was so excited and had spent so much money on the tickets, I couldn’t disappoint him. Besides, Liz would kill me if I had a chance to go up in an airplane and didn’t take it. At least I had the feather she’d given me in my pocket. A black feather had helped Dumbo fly. Maybe it could help me too.

  The Pine Bluff airport was a new building of cement block. There was a small waiting area with seats and tables and two big doors with numbers over them. A man with a cart was selling Cokes and candy bars. We had about an hour before our flight, so Daddy went over to him and came back carrying a bag of treats.

  I opened a PayDay, and the smell of peanuts and caramel, which I usually loved, made me feel sick. Great. The first time in my life I ever got a candy bar all to myself, and I couldn’t even take a bite. The others chatted and ate, and the minutes crept by, both too long and way too short.

  Daddy drained the last of his Coke and glanced at his watch. “Only ten more minutes. I’m going to check you all in at the gate.”

  Mother and Judy got up to look at the plane out the window, but David stayed at the table with me. “You gonna eat that?” he said, pointing at my candy bar.

  I shook my head.

  He picked it up and took a bite. “What’s going on with you and Judy?” David asked, his mouth full of peanuts.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said.

  “Come on, Marlee. Usually you and Judy are all up in your room girl-talking so fast, I can’t understand half of what you say.”

  I hadn’t realized anyone else had noticed.

  “You’re acting funny now too,” he said.

  “No, I’m not.”

  “You scared about the plane ride?”

  “People aren’t supposed to fly. Granny said so.”

  “Granny also said TV was a silly invention. Back before she got one of her own.”

  I made a face.

  “Besides,” said David, “I thought you wanted to build rockets.”

  “Build them, not fly in them.”

  David laughed, and I stuck my tongue out at him. He made me feel a little better. I didn’t think Daddy would purposely try to kill us all, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was a very bad idea.

  Daddy came back then, bouncing in his shoes. “It’s time. They’re going to start boarding.”

  We threw our trash away, and I made sure the black feather was safely in my pocket. Daddy rounded up Mother and Judy and made us all stand in a line before one of the doors. He handed each of us a small piece of paper which read Trans-Texas Airways: Pine Bluff, AR, to Little Rock, AR. Then Daddy went down the line and kissed us all. Like we were going on a long trip. Like we were going off to war. Like he was never going to see us again.

  “Have fun!” he called as he waved and walked off. A woman with a cute, short haircut and a navy blue suit took our tickets and ushered us out the door. We stood on the runway until another woman in a matching suit led us across the cement to the plane. There was a set of metal stairs going up to the plane.

  “I can’t do it,” I mumbled, standing in front of the stairs. They looked just like the high dive. The engines were warming up, and it was so loud, no one could hear me.

 
“I’m not going!” I yelled.

  Mother was ahead of me. “What?” she called, turning back briefly, but she wasn’t really listening. I automatically followed her. I willed myself to stop and after a moment, I did, right on the second step.

  David leaned over and shouted into my ear. “Keep moving, sis.”

  I shook my head, but he pushed me from behind. I would have fallen, but my stupid feet caught me, and I started going up the stairs. The wind picked up and blew my hair in my face. I felt dizzy. My hands were hot, and my feet were cold, and everything sounded funny, like people talking underwater at the pool. It was like when I did the class presentation. I’d been sure I was going to faint then too.

  But I hadn’t.

  I’d actually done a pretty good job.

  I stuck my hand in my pocket and touched the tip of the feather. Before I knew it, I was ducking inside the plane. It was just a metal tube, with two seats on each side of a narrow aisle. Mother sat with David, and Judy and I sat next to each other. The stewardess showed us how to buckle our seat belts. When I looked out the window, I could see a man directing the plane onto the runway.

  The plane began to move, and I closed my eyes. I squeezed them tight, until I saw silver stars on the insides of my lids. I wasn’t going to open them again until this was all over and we were safely on the ground. Or until we were dead, smushed all over the concrete. I thought the second possibility was much more likely.

  But then, the plane gave a funny lurch, like nothing I had ever felt before, and without thinking, I opened my eyes and glanced out the window.

  We were only a few feet off the ground, but the plane got higher quickly, rocking back and forth as it climbed. It was a gentle motion, not scary, like being in a cradle for grown-ups. We flew over the airport parking lot, and I caught a glimpse of Daddy standing by the car and waving like a madman.