The Road to Memphis by Mildred D. Taylor Read Free Book Online Page B

set and mix up some corn bread—”
    “I’ll be right back, Big Ma!” I yelled, and got into the car. If all the boys were going, I knew I was going too. While Big Ma continued to fuss Papa turned the car around and we rolled down the drive to the road. It was another glorious ride.
    When we got back, more than an hour later, Big Ma was still fussing, but that wasn’t unusual. By the time we settled down for supper, she had finally quieted, having vented all her displeasure at having to hold up her supper and about my being no help at all. But then I announced that I was going coon hunting with the boys, and she started up again. My grandmother loved to fuss. “David, y’all jus’ spoils this girl!” she declared, glancing with disapproval down the table to theother end, where Papa sat at the head. She passed the hot platter of golden-fried chicken down to Stacey, then let Mama, sitting next to Papa, have a condemning look too. “I done told y’all and told y’all time and time again, a hunt ain’t no place for a young lady! This girl, she got no business goin’ huntin’! That’s what menfolks s’pose to do!”
    Christopher-John glanced over at her as he helped himself to another slice of corn bread. “But, Big Ma, it wouldn’t hardly be a hunt without Cassie.”
    Little Man concurred in that opinion. “Cassie, she always go when she’s here.”
    “Go too much, ya ask me!” Big Ma got up and pulled another pan of corn bread from the stove. She slid the bread onto the already near-empty platter, then sat again and went on fussing. “Boys s’pose t’ go huntin’, not girls! Boys got men things t’ be talkin’ ’bout on these hunts, and girls, they jus’ ain’t s’pose t’ have no ear for that kinda thing!”
    Papa smiled. “Well, seems like to me, Mama—and you tell me if I’m wrong here—but seems like I remember the time when Papa was away from home and we ain’t had meat for the table and we gone hunting. Now, I recall rightly, it was you gone with me and Hammer down into them woods to hunt us a coon. You recall that, Mama?”
    Big Ma got contentious. “Well . . . that was different. Y’all was just little boys and we needed us some meat. Your papa and your brothers Mitchell and Kevin, they was all gone off workin’ ’way from here, lumberin’ up near that Natchez Trace. Somebody had to put meat on this table!”
    Papa took a slice of corn bread. “I recall, you were a mighty fine shot too.”
    “Yeah, I was,” Big Ma admitted, looking a bit prideful about the thing. Then she frowned at Papa’s teasing. “But thatgot nothin’ to do with Cassie here! She always been too much like these boys as it is. Time she started taking on womanly ways.”
    “I got womanly ways,” I contended, not too concerned about where this conversation was headed. I heard it every time I wanted to go on a hunt. “I cook and I wash dishes.”
    Everybody but Big Ma laughed. “Girl, don’t you get smart with me! You knows what I mean!”
    “Don’t worry, Big Ma,” said Stacey. “Up in Jackson, Cassie’s not so bad. Most times she can be a real lady, and you’d be proud. Suppose, though, that’s because she doesn’t have any mules to ride up there.” He grinned over at me. I rolled my eyes at him and went on eating.
    Papa smiled at the two of us, then said to Stacey, “Now, Son, what’s this you were sayin’ ’bout a truckin’ job earlier?”
    Stacey wiped at his mouth and spoke eagerly. “Looks like we could be getting on at the trucking company pretty soon now, Papa. Moe, Willie, and me, we all went down and talked to a man over there, and he was saying he was expecting to take on a lot of new workers. He said with all the Army camps opening up and all this defense building going on what with that war over in Europe, they’d have to soon have men pulling overtime.”
    “I thought you were doing some overtime work at the box factory,” said Mama, looking a bit concerned at this