Fire from the Rock by Sharon Draper Read Free Book Online

to pretend like she was going to fuss at him. He grinned at his family and stuffed the rest of it into his mouth while everybody laughed.
    â€œNow you see where Gary gets his eating habits,” their mother teased, laughing with them.
    â€œWhere is that boy, anyway?” Mr. Patterson asked. The mood suddenly darkened, almost as if a shadow had slid across the kitchen linoleum.
    Her mother said nothing, but kept glancing out the kitchen curtains, hoping that Gary would turn the corner with his long legs and swaggering walk.
    â€œHe’ll be here soon, Lester,” she said as she placed the rest of the food on the table. “Maybe he had some extra work to do at school.”
    Her parents were aware that was really unlikely, Sylvia knew. She scooped up a big pile of mashed potatoes and plopped a large pat of butter right in the middle of it. She loved it when the butter melted into the potatoes—she swirled it around and watched the colors and flavors collide. Besides, she figured that playing with her food was preferable to bringing up the subject of the integration of Central High School right now.
    Mr. Patterson prayed a long time before the meal, asking the Lord to keep his family safe in these difficult times. Nobody said much as they ate, but each person at the table kept glancing at the door, waiting for the next shadow to fall.
    It came with a thud and a curse. Mrs. Patterson stifled a scream when they heard an object hit their front porch. Sylvia thought it sounded soft, but heavy, like a large bag of fruit. The curse came as they ran to the door—three white boys ran down their driveway, cackling and shouting as they jumped into a black ‘56 Ford and sped away.
    When Sylvia’s father opened the front door, there lay Gary, curled like a bruised animal. Both his eyes were swollen and puffy, his nose was bleeding, and Sylvia saw cuts and bruises all over his head and arms. He held his arms tightly around his chest. Mrs. Patterson, once again calm in the face of calamity, didn’t lose her composure.
    â€œSylvia, take Donna Jean upstairs, then get me some hot water and bandages. Hurry.” Donna Jean, her eyes wide with fear, didn’t object.
    Mr. Patterson, his face a mask of pain and anger, lifted Gary up as if he were a baby and brought him inside.
    â€œShould I call the doctor?” Sylvia asked as she hurried back down the stairs.
    â€œNot yet,” her mother said. “Let me see how bad it is.”
    â€œWhat about the police?” Sylvia asked.
    â€œAbsolutely not,” her father replied strongly.
    â€œBut, Daddy, you can’t let them get away with this! We have a colored policeman now. Can’t we call him?” Sylvia’s eyes flashed in anger. She remembered a unit her class had covered in second grade called, “The Policeman Is Our Friend,” where a smiling and very white police officer directed traffic and helped little old white ladies across the street.
    â€œHe can’t even issue tickets, and for sure he’s not allowed to arrest a white person. Forget it!” her father said harshly.
    While her mother washed Gary’s wounds with warm water, Sylvia shook her head in disbelief. They had just endured this scene with Donna Jean a few days ago. It was like seeing a bad movie repeated in their living room. Sylvia shuddered, wondering if next it would be her bloody body that her mother would be soothing on the sofa, trying in vain to bandage up the hatred that caused it.
    Gary looked up and said through puffy lips, “I’m sorry, Mama.”
    â€œWhat happened, son?” his father asked. Sylvia hovered nearby, hoping she wouldn’t be sent out of the room like Donna Jean.
    â€œI made a couple of stops on my way home. I needed to talk to people who really know what’s going on.”
    â€œWhy didn’t you just come straight home?” his mother asked.
    â€œI should be safe in my own town,