The Rock and the River by Kekla Magoon

minute, I’ll be looking for thirds.” He grinned. You couldn’t help but smile back. Even with all the things he had going on, Bucky was never anything but cheerful. No wonder everybody liked him.
    Maxie’s brother came up beside us. She made a face at him.
    â€œHi, Raheem,” Bucky said.
    â€œHey,” I said.
    Raheem towered over the table, a bowl of oatmeal in his hand. He seemed about seven feet tall. “Hi, Buck,” he said, then turned to me. “Hey, man. Haven’t seen you around here.”
    â€œFirst time.”
    â€œThis is Steve’s brother, Sam,” Maxie said.
    â€œGood to meet you.” Raheem and I clasped hands. “Maxie doesn’t bring a lot of guys around, you know.” He pointed a long, stern finger at me. “You treat her right.”
    â€œWhat do you want, Heem?” Maxie snapped. She stabbed her spoon into her oatmeal and shot him a dirty look. Even that, on her, was cute.
    Raheem grinned. “Wednesdays, six thirty,” he said, clamping a hand on my shoulder. “You ought to come down, check out the political education classes, my man. They talk up some serious stuff in there, you hear what I’m saying?”
    â€œYeah, sure,” I said. “I’ll check it out.” I wanted to ask him more about the Panthers, but I didn’t want to look dumb in front of Maxie.
    â€œSee you around.” Raheem nodded to Maxie, then ambled off. Maxie kicked me under the table and winked. I kicked her back. We pressed the toes of our shoes against each other. It wasn’t holding hands, but it was something.
    Â 
    Maxie met me on the steps after school. She led the way toward her house. I held back a smile as she turned down a street that took us a little out of the way. If I just reached out and took her hand, what would happen? Between her mittens and my gloves, we wouldn’t really even be touching. It’d be like a practice. I flexed my fingers over and over, getting ready.
    As we neared Bryant Street, where Maxie lived, I still hadn’t made my move. I’d have to wait until tomorrow, because it was looking too late for today.
    Music blared from a radio perched atop a phone booth down the block, where a group of men leaned against cars parked in front of the barbershop. Bucky came hurrying down the street past them. He waved and crossed toward us. “Hey, Sam. Maxie.”
    â€œHey, Bucky. You finally got a free afternoon?” Maxie said.
    â€œNo, girl, I’m on the clock right now. Just dropping off some parts to a guy up the block.” He pointed with his thumb over his shoulder. His hands were smudged with dirt and grease.
    â€œI’m glad I ran into you, Sam,” he went on. “Do me a favor, will ya? Tell Steve to stop by the shop tomorrow. We gotta talk. It’s real important. I tried to catch him earlier, but I missed my shot.”
    â€œYeah, no problem, Bucky. I’ll tell him.”
    â€œThanks, man, I gotta go. Get back to work ’fore they dock me.” Bucky grinned and slapped my shoulder. “Catch ya later.” He jogged off down the sidewalk, then slowed to wave at three guys coming out of the mini grocery across the street carrying bottles of soda. One of them called out to him, and Bucky turned partway around, still jogging.
    â€œYou coming tonight, man?”
    â€œCan’t. Working,” Bucky called back. He waved again as he dashed toward the corner.
    Two policemen stepped around the corner, right in front of Bucky. I jerked my head toward them. Maxie gasped.
    Bucky was looking back over his shoulder, but still running forward. The two officers ambled around the corner, probably making their regular rounds through the neighborhood. Bucky rammed into the police officers, barreled right smack between them.
    Bucky turned around, flustered. “Excuse me, Officers. I didn’t see you.” He started to move on, but one of them held up his