into the warm sunshine. We walked together down the porch steps to the narrow cement walkway leading to the sidewalk.
Joe took a deep breath beside me. âI bet I know what youâre thinking. âHow in the world did Joe end up here?ââ
I turned to look at him, following his gaze down the street to where a barely visible school bus was approaching. A line of thin black arms waving rectangles of green paper jutted out from the open windows.
âNo.â Yes. âItâs just good to see you, Joe.â
âWe go this way,â Joe said, turning right out of the nonexistent gate in his fence. We took only a few steps before the school bus screeched to a stop in front of us.
The driver, a teddy bear of a man with curly hair peeking out from under a straw cowboy hat and a wide grin below, said, âHey, Joey!â
âThatâs Hambrick,â Joe said to me. âBut we just call him Brick.â Joe placed his box on top of mine. âHold this for me,â he said before calling back to the driver. âBrick, my main man!â
Brick stuck a thick, tanned fist out the opened window, which Joe met with his own. âI hope you brought enough, man,â Brick said with a laugh. âYour green slips today may outnumber the cups in those trays.â The driver glanced my way and smiled at me knowingly. He and I for sure were the only two white people on the block.
Maybe he wondered what in the world I was doing there.
Quite frankly, I wondered the same thing.
Joe laughed easily as the bus door swung open. He bent at the waist, clapping his hands together as though this herd of children racing toward himâbackpacks bouncing on their backs, green sheets of paper waving from their hands, white smiles gleaming against the dark of their skinâwas the greatest sight on earth.
Who were these kids? More importantly, who was Joe to them?
âWhat day is it? What day is it?â Joe asked as though gearing up for a cheer.
âFreeze Cup Friday!â they screamed, as they exchanged high fives with Joe.
âHuddle up, huddle up,â Joe said as they gathered around him. From their sizes, I estimated their ages to range from about six to twelve. âThatâs what Iâm talkinâ about,â Joe said to them. âCome on now.â
They bunched together like a football team on a playing field. Along with Joe, the children made growling noises, like playful lions getting ready to pounce. The merry-making ended in another wave of cheering. Finally, Joe stood upright and glanced over his shoulder at me. âGreen means they had good behavior all week .â He looked again at the adorable mob with pride. âAnd for that? â
Together they chanted, âItâs Freeze Cup Friday!â
Such excitement startled me. I was a childrenâs book writer, but I hadnât been around this many children in more than three years, having chosen to box up and send my books to elementary schools in the projects without participating in their distribution. I raked my teeth over my bottom lip and looked nervously to the bus driver, who chuckled easily at what Iâd just witnessed.
âSee yâall around,â he said. The bus pulled away from the curb with a cough and a sigh.
âBye, Brick,â Joe called. Then to the kids, âSay gâbye.â
They waved their green cards, hollering gleefully as the bus rolled away.
Suddenly they all realized at once that a stranger stood among them, holding makeshift trays of freeze cups. A white, nervous stranger.
Joe must have realized it too. He extended his arm, smiling. âOh, this is my good friend from when we were kids, Miss Sam.â Eight faces turned fully toward me, eyes wide and unblinking. âGive it up!â Joe cheered.
âHey, Miss Sam!â they chanted.
Joe burst out laughing.
âHello,â I stammered.
When had I ever seen such joy in the midst of such
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