Free Color the Sidewalk for Me by Brandilyn Collins

teachings both at home and in our church. No one had a right to judge Danny just because he’d been a troublemaker as a young kid. Who wouldn’t be, in his situation?
    And there was another problem. I fretted about Mama blaming me for Kevy’s accident. Would she carry her anger to Danny’s house, its blaze licking around the long skirt of Danny’s mama, who was so tenderly taking care of my brother? I dreaded Mama’s comparison with Mrs. Cander, didn’t want Danny to know what was lacking in my own home. And then I realized I was cringing at the smallest inkling of what he must have felt all these years about his daddy.
    â€œI’m afraid she’ll blame me.”
    His look was quizzical. “You helped save him.”
    â€œYes, but Mama . . . loves Kevy a lot. And she and I don’t get along so well.”
    He searched my face. “That’s not really why, is it?”
    That weight on his shoulder was more than a chip. “Danny,” I said, “don’t.”
    Firmly I picked up the receiver.

    Daddy’s car scattered gravel as it scratched to a stop in Danny’s driveway. Mama spilled out of it first to hasten up the porch steps, followed by Daddy and Granddad. In her arms was a bundle of dry clothing for Kevy. “Where is he?” she demanded breathlessly as Danny opened the door.
    â€œIn there with Mama.” He pointed toward the bedroom, sliding me a look as she brushed past.
    Mrs. Cander stood aside as Mama sank down on the edge of the bed, leaning over to hug Kevy, fingers smoothing his forehead. Granddad clasped Mrs. Cander’s hand, thanking her profusely and proclaiming Danny’s bravery. I had made it very clear during my phone call that it was Danny who had saved Kevy from the rapids, with my help only at the end. Daddy started to shake Danny’s hand, then embraced him awkwardly, mumbling that God himself had placed him at the river in time. Mama gently began helping Kevy into his dry clothes.
    After a few minutes Dr. Richardson’s long gray car slid behind ours in the driveway, throwing up dust. Mama hovered at the foot of the bed, hands pressed against her lips, as Doc Richardson listened to Kevy’s chest. Putting a cheek to Mama’s, Mrs. Cander murmured how glad she was that Kevy seemed all right, and slipped from the room. Danny turned to leave as well but Granddad laid a hand on his arm.
    â€œI think he’ll be fine, Estelle,” the doctor said quietly, removing the stethoscope. “But I want to keep him in the hospital for a day or two just to make sure his lungs stay clear. Otherwise pneumonia could set in.”
    I stood back and watched it all, stealing glances at Danny, imagining the feel of Mama’s caresses upon Kevy as she motioned for Daddy to pick him up. We all followed as Kevy was carried to our car, Mama finally thanking Danny. She could not find the words, she breathed, to tell him of her gratitude. He had saved her son’s life and she would never forget it. Danny accepted her thanks humbly, repeating, as he had to Granddad and Daddy, that he could not have done it alone. They’d have both died, he declared, if I hadn’t rescued them at the last minute. Only then—and after Kevy had been tenderly deposited in the backseat of the car—did Mama turn to me.
    â€œCelia,” she said, her hands alighting on my shoulders, “you did a brave, wonderful thing today. . . .” The words trailed away, her chin quivering.
    My throat tightened. I could not remember feeling so close to her. I wanted to throw my arms around her, wanted us to bask in each other’s relieved comfort. But all I could manage was the smallest of nods. Abruptly her hands pulled away, leaving spots of warmth on my shoulders.
    â€œWe need to be going.” Her voice was gruff. “We’ll be followin’ Doc Richardson to the hospital.”
    Climbing into the backseat, she put an arm