Free Have No Shame by Melissa Foster Page A

droppin’ her eyes to her plate. I watched her draw in a deep breath and blow it out slowly through her full lips. “There’s so much more to New York than school and grades, and there’s so much more to life, Daddy.”
    The room grew silent. I watched Daddy’s face tighten. I looked at Maggie, flabbergasted. What was she doin’? I knew our parents had saved every penny to send Maggie to New York, and Daddy had fought sendin’ her “into the big city” with ferocity. Maggie had been too much for him. She knew when to turn on the charm, “Don’t worry, Daddy, I’ll make you proud,” and when to push, “Come on, Daddy, what’s wrong with a woman gettin’ an education?” In the end, I think Daddy got tired of fightin’ and let her go.
    My father cleared his throat. “Meanin’?” he asked.
    “Meanin’—” Maggie’s eyes danced around the room, much to my chagrin, they settled on me. I loved Maggie but I hated bein’ pitted between her and Daddy, and somehow, things always ended up that way. I played with my fork, holdin’ her stare. The air electrified between us. I knew nothin’ good was about to happen. Maggie’s lips spread into a wide grin. “There’s so much goin’ on out there. Music, clothin’,” she grasped the edge of the table with both hands, her voice risin’ in excitement. “People. The people are talkin’, livin’ like they love life, sharin’ time, information.” She turned to face our father, shakin’ her head. “This town, Daddy,” she laughed under her breath. “It’s…it’s way behind the times—”
    “That’s enough Maggie,” he interrupted her.
    Maggie stood up, then walked around the table and stood behind my chair, grabbin’ my shoulders with both hands. Her grip was strong, thrillin’. “Things are happenin’, Pix, big things. Things you could never imagine.”
    “Like you losin’ your mind?” Jake laughed.
    “Margaret Lynn, sit back down.” My father’s voice was calm, steady, forceful. Mama sat in silence, the edges of her lips slightly raised, her pride-filled eyes on Maggie, her napkin clenched in her hand. I shook in my seat, afraid of what Daddy might say. I had no idea what Maggie meant by the things she said, but I wanted to know so badly that I had to clench my teeth to remain silent.
    Maggie walked around the table, swingin’ her hands dramatically from side to side, her chin tilted upward. “There’s a whole world out there. I know you’ve heard about it,” she lowered her chin and locked eyes with our father. “On the radio?”
    “I said that’s enough Margaret.” If fumes could come from a person’s ears, the dinin’ room would have been filled with smoke.
    “Civil rights,” she said, as if she were answerin’ her own question
    Civil rights? Civil rights was not a topic discussed in the Tillman household. We knew what we heard on the radio in those moments before Daddy turned it off. Daddy was quick to shoot down our questions. Things are just fine ‘ round here. We don’t need no trouble brought on by some trouble-makin’ coloreds. When somethin’s not broke, why fix it? I knew there were marches and speeches goin’ on in other places, and Jake and I knew better than to ask questions or bring up what we’d heard in school or picked up by scannin’ the newspapers. Maggie was another story. She reveled in challengin’ Daddy.
    Maggie leaned against her chair, watchin’ Daddy with a dare in her eyes. Tension thickened in the small room. Silence ensued, until finally Maggie looked like she might burst.
    “The civil rights movement is on, Daddy, and—” She drew out the word “on” like it was magnified. 
    “That’s it, Margaret Lynn. I’ll have no more of this disrespect.” My father threw his napkin on the table and stood up.
    “You can’t shelter them forever, Daddy,” Maggie taunted him.
    I cringed.
    “There’s a whole world out there, and they should know about it. They should live it,