With the Might of Angels by Andrea Davis Pinkney Read Free Book Online

his plate, and had made a pickle-shaped man with peanut arms and legs. “Funny
tawlking.
Grown-ups funny
tawlking
,” he said.
    I didn’t dare mention the paper Yolanda had shown me. Daddy told me the lady was from New York, and that’s how Northerners speak, and that there’s nothing funny about people wanting to help you. Even white people.
    “That lady’s name was Cynthia Woods,” Mama told me. “She was very kind, and was pleased that we agreed with the work she and the others from the NAACP are doing.”
    Mama and Daddy told me that I’d get a better education at Prettyman Coburn, and, they reminded me, Prettyman is a far walk from wherewe live, a whole two miles away. “But you have a right to attend the best school in this district,” Daddy said, “no matter how far it is.”
    I guess that meant I had the right to walk on those clean Prettyman sidewalks. And the right to say good morning to those pretty, pointy Prettyman trees out front. And to play on that pretty Prettyman baseball diamond after school.
    I’d walk a million miles for that.
    Yolanda doesn’t own a telephone, so I couldn’t call to tell her about how happy I was that she and Roger and me were chosen to be Prettyman students.
    With all this news, none of us had eaten. Mama said grace.
    “Pass the pork,” Daddy said.
    “Pass me a pickle,” I said.
    Goober said, “Look at my peanut-pickle person, Dawnie. See my peanut-pickle person, on my plate?”
    Mama doesn’t ever let us play with food, but tonight she allowed Goober his fun. “Let’s eat” was all she said.
Monday, July 26, 1954
Diary Book,
    Tonight after supper I asked Mama and Daddy if we could buy a TV.
    They both answered at the same time:
“No.”
    “Televisions cost money,” Mama said.
    “Money we don’t have,” said Daddy.
    I don’t know much about money, except that when you have a nickel, you can buy five pretzel sticks from Woolworth’s. When you have a penny, you can buy a sucking candy. When you have a dime, you can buy a root beer. Last Christmastime, I got a penny, two nickels, and even some dimes. I didn’t spend none of that money. Since I’ve been old enough to hold a penny, I’ve been saving to buy a new pogo stick, an Ace Flyer.
    I also know this: When you don’t spend money on things like Peach Melba dresses that are too tight and shiny shoes you don’t wear much, you have more money in your pocket for a TV.
    We were sitting out on our porch watching Goober chase fireflies.
    The radio was on. We were listening to a commentary about an upcoming game between the Dodgers and the Red Sox when the program was interrupted.
    The man on the radio said, “U.S. senator Harry F. Byrd vows to stop integration in Virginia schools.”
    “Get the baseball commentary back on!” I insisted.
    For the second time, Mama and Daddy spoke together:
“Shhhh!”
    The man on the radio was talking about school, and I did not want to hear it! It’s summer, right? Can we please not think about school?
    Even Goober agreed. He’d caught a firefly in a jar, and ran to show me.
    “Baseball back on!” he sang. “Baseball back on!”
Wednesday, July 28, 1954
Diary Book,
    Yolanda and I played our favorite game today. A game we call “Tell the Truth or Die Tryin’.”
    Yolanda always starts truth tellin’ by making an X over her heart with her pointer finger. “Cross my heart, hope to die. Stick a needle in my eye. If I’m lyin’, watch me cryin’. ’Cause I know I will be dyin’.”
    Then we press our foreheads together to see if either one of us has shed a “lyin’ cryin’ dyin’” tear, and to seal the truth between us.
    Today Yolanda said she wouldn’t be coming to Prettyman with me. Her parents don’t believe in integration, especially her father. “My pa says why go to a place where you’re not wanted.”
    I didn’t believe Yolanda at first. She said, “Cross my heart, hope to die. Stick a needle in my eye. If I’m lyin’, watch me cryin’.