Tutored Read Free Page A

here?” Wendy asked. “You must be starving.”
    “I am.”
    He decided on a Broad Street eatery that was on the cusp: the Temple University students in one direction, neighborhood people in the other.
    “This looks decent,” he said.
    Wendy’s father ordered a strawberry malt and a quarter-pound burger cooked rare with guacamole, jalapeño jack, and pico de gallo. Wendy ordered a mini-hamburger, well done, and a cherry Coke.
    They sat near the front and were just starting to make small talk about the weather when a ruckus started.
    From where Wendy was sitting with her back to the counter, she heard raised voices and turned to see what was going on. A man who looked about her dad’s age was arguing with the restaurant’s manager.
    “I saw you fill it up with soda. Water is clear.”
    “No it ain’t, sucker.”
    “That’s stealing. I saw you.”
    “You think that just because a black man comes up in here he’s looking for trouble.”
    The other man spoke in a calmer, more even tone. “You don’t have to bring race into this.”
    “Race
been
in this, you goddamn cracker!” he roared.
    “Calm down, please.”
    “I hate stupid crackers like you.”
    “That man is certainly loud enough,” Wendy’s dad said.
    “Dad,
shhh
,” Wendy told him with a here-we-go roll of her eyes. The last thing she needed was for her dad to get into this scuffle.
    “He could pay for his drink like everyone else,” her dad told her.
    Wendy was watching the rest of the patrons. She marveled at how this man had single-handedly changed the mood of the entire restaurant.
    Two people had pulled out their cell phones and started recording. Everyone watched in complete silence, not moving a muscle. If the accused soda thief was looking for hand-to-hand combat, he would have done something by now, Wendy figured. He also had no buddies with him; he would have called them for backup. Still, all seemed whipped into a near panic by this guy who wanted a free soda. What was everyone afraid of?
    Wendy eyed a man with a strawberry sundae whose forehead was tense with alarm. Then she turned to watch another woman, who was hastily packing up her belongings. The woman slipped out the door, leaving a half-finished turkey club behind.
    All at once, the man at the center of everything left, and there was a collective sigh of relief. People went back to enjoying their meals.
    Then it started again.
    Wendy saw a little boy’s eyes widen. “Ma, he’s back,” he told his mother.
    Someone asked, “What’s he want now?”
    Wendy turned around.
    “Listen, you goddamn racist, I want to speak to the manager!” the man shouted.
    “I am the manager.”
    “That figures, you old racist goddamn cracker!”
    “I’m going to call the police in five seconds.”
    “I am not going to let you push me around, don’t tell me that a nigger can’t get no water when he wants some water.”
    “Please leave.”
    “I’m gonna kick your ass.”
    “Please leave.”
    “I should have known that we shouldn’t come here,” Wendy’s dad mumbled.
    Just then the irate man began taking his message straight to the people.
    He eyed Wendy’s dad and zeroed in.
    “You with me, brother?” he asked Wendy’s father, as if he was already assured of the affirmative answer.
    Wendy’s dad straightened his shoulders, looked him dead in the eye, and enunciated two words: “Hell, no.”
    The man stepped back. “Oh, so it’s like that, Uncle Tom?”
    “You must be out of your mind to think that I would take part in this foolishness in the presence of my daughter. If that makes me an Uncle Tom, then I’ll be one gladly.”
    Now Wendy’s heart pounded. She had no idea what was going to happen next. Would the man take his anger out on her father? Would her father be dumb enough to incense him further?
    She never found out. Before the man had a chance to react, the police burst into the restaurant and hauled him away.
    During the ride home, Wendy had had to listen on