Little Sacrifices Read Free Page B

no matter if they’re white or not. Some people didn’t take kindly to our way of thinking though. A bunch of Klansmen from down in Statesboro heard we weren’t keeping our Negroes in line, and came to do the job themselves. Our sheriff waited for them on the jailhouse steps and when they showed up, he shot one man dead in the road. And that was the end of that.’
    ‘Did the Negro get convicted?’
    ‘Oh, I guess so. They usually did. I didn’t say Negroes get a fair trial, just that they don’t get lynched in Savannah.’ He smiled a little apologetically, then stopped and looked around. We were standing on Bull Street in front of the college where in a few days Duncan would take up his post.
    ‘What do you say we walk up to River Street and I’ll show you Factor’s Walk? That’s where the cotton buyers had their offices, on the bluff. Used to be that the entire world’s cotton prices were set right here in Savannah. Can you imagine? White Gold, they called it. It’s all closed up now. More cobwebs than cotton there. Everything went to pot after the Civil War. Not very civil if you ask me.’
    ‘Well, that was a long time ago,’ I mused, gazing at the houses. They were striking in an aged film star kind of way, trying to hold their composure when time hadn’t done them any favors. Some were in good shape, shaded by ancient trees, their yards groomed and their porches beautifully painted. I’d have given my little finger to live even in one that was derelict, as long as there weren’t any ghosts. We Northerners were as superstitious as Jim’s people when it came to spirits.
    Jim’s silence drew my attention. ‘Not for us, it wasn’t,’ he said. I realized he meant the war. ‘It ruined the South and we never recovered, not really. You want to be careful who you say things like that to around here. I don’t mind so much, but you won’t make many friends with talk like that.’
    I murmured my apology. For Pete’s sake, who’d have thought that anyone would care after eighty years? I still had a lot to learn about social memory. Jim didn’t hold my ignorance against me and after a few awkward seconds he chattered on again. Finally, near lunchtime, his momentum slowed enough for me to shoehorn a few questions into his commentary. Curiously, he didn’t want to talk about himself. All I got out of him was that his mother lived in Atlanta and that he’d been with his Nan since he was little. Reluctant to get hollered at again, I didn’t badger him about his father, who was as absent from the conversation as he seemed to be from Jim’s life. Since I wasn’t exactly forthcoming with certain facts about my own parents, I was happy to let him keep his secrets in return for keeping my own.
     
     

Chapter 3
     
    The prospect of trying to fit in made me sick to my stomach. In a small town, finding kindred spirits within walking distance is as easy as falling off a log. Not so in a city where the white population alone had its choice of four high schools. I’m sure everyone was nervous starting high school, but at least they’d have some friends to lean on. I wondered whether one boy met forty–eight hours earlier qualified as a social circle. Given the answer, I managed to keep my breakfast where it belonged for half an hour. Only Jim was there to see my waffles make their second appearance and he took them in stride, so to speak, hardly breaking his train of thought as he fished in his pocket for a handkerchief. Despite his obvious lack of social connections, I was glad to have him around.
    School was a long way from home and Savannah was one of the most humid places I’d ever been. Stepping outside was like sitting too long in a hot bath. By the time we reached the front steps, my blouse made an unflattering first impression on the other students. I stole glances at them. Most looked older than me and none looked as sweaty. Great, I thought. Here’s the new girl. She’s from the North, she talks