Free The Rock and the River by Kekla Magoon Page B

realized I wasn’t going to let him pretend he didn’t know what I was talking about. He sat down on his bed and pulled on his shoes. “No. I can’t.”
    â€œWell, you can’t leave it here.”
    â€œSam, stop it. It’s none of your business.”
    â€œIt’s my room too. What are you going to do if Mama finds it?”
    Stick stood up. “Don’t even joke about that.”
    â€œWho’s joking? I found it, didn’t I?”
    â€œKeep your voice down.” Stick sighed. “Look, I don’t have anywhere else to put it right now. Just forget about it.”
    Right. Sure. I flopped down onto my bed, facing away from him. What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t tell on him. I didn’t even want to, but how was I supposed to act normal with that thing in my room? Why couldn’t I be casual about it, the way Stick was?
    â€œSo, you’ll cover for me, then?” He was already pulling on his jacket. He pushed the curtains aside.
    I rolled over. “How am I supposed to do that? You know I can’t lie.”
    â€œSay good night without opening the door, that kind of thing. I’ll be back in a bit.”
    â€œIs Bucky in the Panthers too? Is that why they’re protesting?”
    Stick frowned and stood up straighter. “No, it’s not why. Nobody cares if Bucky’s a Panther or not. We care that what happened to him was wrong.”
    â€œSo he’s not a Panther?”
    Stick smiled a little. “You know Bucky. He wouldn’t carry a gun if you paid him, much less use it.”
    I smiled back. “Yeah.” I wanted to add, You either, I thought.
    Stick raised the window. “Don’t lock it. I’ll knock if I can’t get it up from outside.”
    I opened my mouth to say I won’t, but I didn’t. Stick paused, one leg already outside. It would show him, all right, if I locked the window behind him. But we both knew I wouldn’t.
    â€œSee you,” I said instead as he slipped out the window. I caught a glimpse of his face as he disappeared. Something in his expression said he was leaving more than me behind.
    Not five minutes later, Father knocked at the door. “Good night, Sam. Good night, Steve,” he called.
    â€œGood night,” I called back.
    Father’s breath in the hallway. “Sam?”
    â€œYes?”
    â€œOpen the door, please.”
    It was all over now. “Um, we’re in bed. We’re going to sleep.”
    Father turned the doorknob. It had been pointless to lock it. He would just have made me open it, anyway. “Where’s your brother?”
    Wherever he was, he was about to owe me big. “I’m not sure.”
    Father pointed at Stick’s bed. “The minute he comes back, I want to know, understood?”
    If he thought I was going to rat on Stick…there was no way.
    â€œSam?”
    I couldn’t speak.
    Father sighed. “Never mind.” He left the room.
    Several minutes later, through the wall, came muffled sounds of him talking with Mama. The walls weren’t thin enough to hear normal conversations, only raised voices, so they had to be arguing.
    â€œGo back and talk to him,” Mama said.
    Father said something in response. A moment later he came in, carrying one of the big pillows off his and Mama’s bed. He had removed his belt and shoes and unbuttoned his shirt, revealing his white undershirt. He placed the pillow against the side of Stick’s bed, then flicked off the light and sat down on the floor.
    I crossed my legs on the bed and leaned against the wall. A thin stream of light from the window lit a long rectangle over Father’s face and chest. I liked him being there with me, even though it meant I had failed Stick.
    â€œAre you going to sit there until he comes back?”
    â€œYour brother is very angry with me right now,” Father said, tugging at his shirt buttons.
    â€œHe’s mad