10
Thank goodness I reached the car first and was able to stand by the passenger side door when Johnny Tucker opened it. The old man had a reputation for being ornery, particularly to people of color—or “colored folks,” as he called them. There was a lot of the word “boy” used at the local grocery store when a black cashier rang him up. I didn’t want Isaiah or Javier to deal with that today.
“Mr. Tucker, it’s nice to see you,” I said in my most polite—and most fake—voice. “What brings you out here today?”
Mayor Tucker put his arm on my shoulder. “I believe that’d be my doing, Mary.” He looked at me with eyes full of such sadness. “I mentioned to Daddy that I was coming out here today, and I guess you thought you’d come see what I was doing, sir?”
A white man about Mom’s age came around
