Free The Road to Memphis by Mildred D. Taylor

naw, he wasn’t often.”
    “Yeah, but he was that time!” cracked Little Willie, and laughter came back. “He was here, he’d tell you so!”
    We all laughed on, and that included Harris. Then we were merciful and let the subject of poor ole T-Bone rest. For some time after, we ate and laughed and drank our cider, told stories about days past, about hunts with Papa and Uncle Hammer and Mr. Morrison, and hunts with Clarence’s papa, J.D., and Willie’s papa too. We talked and teased each other about days present, including everybody’s love life—or lack of it—andgave little thought to raccoons. Then Clarence turned to Stacey on a sudden and said: “Stacey, like to get me a ride up to Jackson with y’all tomorrow. There room?”
    “What you wanna go to Jackson for, boy?” inquired Willie. “You gonna get a job?”
    Clarence grinned. “Gonna join the Army.”
    “What?”
    “Yeah. Y’all remember my cousin El live over the other side of Strawberry? He come down here a few summers back.”
    “El,” said Stacey. “Yeah, sure—”
    “Well, he done joined the Army!”
    “That a fact?”
    “Uh-huh, and he come down here on leave couple weeks ago, and we got to talkin’ ’bout the Army, and he say it’s all right. He talked so good ’bout it, I been figurin’ maybe I’d join up myself. What you think, Stacey?”
    Stacey took his time before he answered, and that was good, because Clarence thought a lot of his opinion. After all, since childhood, Stacey had pretty much been the leader of their small band of friends that included himself, Moe, Willie, Clarence, and at one time long ago, a boy named T. J. Avery. Willie, though, took no time for pondering. “I think you a fool,” he said.
    “I ain’t askin’ you!” retorted Clarence.
    “Didn’t need to ask me. Was happy to tell you without you asking.”
    Clarence turned away from Willie, ignoring him. “Stacey? What you say, man?”
    “Well, I tell you, Clarence,” said Stacey, taking the cider jug, “joining up, it’s not something I’d do.”
    “Well, you got no cause to!” exclaimed Clarence, defending his action. “Shoot! Your folks always done had somethin’! Andnow you up workin’ in Jackson, bringin’ back that paycheck. You makin’ so much money, you can ’ford to go ’head and buy a car! Me and mine, we ain’t never had much of nothin’ ’ceptin’ that plot of land of Mr. Harlan Granger’s! I join the Army, I get me a uniform, then I belong to Uncle Sam!”
    “That what you want, Clarence,” said Stacey, “I’m not talking against it. I’m just saying, me, I’d never join. Don’t see the need of it.”
    “But you’ll take me to Jackson?”
    “Course, that’s what you want.”
    Clarence seemed relieved, not only for the ride but that by giving him one, Stacey had also given him his approval. “Well, good, then! Give me a chance for a nice long ride in that new car of yours!”
    “What your folks got to say ’bout all this?” questioned Willie. “Or ain’t you told them?”
    “I told ’em all right, but you know Papa, he ain’t wantin’ me to go. He wantin’ me to stay on and help him. But I got me a mind for the Army. I like them uniforms!”
    “Well, you better be liking them a whole lot,” I advised. “A war break out and you have to go fight, you might end up being buried in one.”
    Clarence laughed. “Shoot! I know how to use a gun and I ain’t afraid to fight! Ain’t nobody gonna shoot me!”
    “Well, what about Sissy, then?” said Stacey. “I know she can’t be liking the idea.”
    “Ah, Stace, that girl, she ain’t even talkin’ to me. Said she ain’t studyin’ me, I go off and leave her. That’s what we was arguing ’bout when y’all come ’cross us on the road today. Said I can just forget ’bout her, I do.”
    “But you going anyway?”
    “Why, shoot, yeah! Ain’t no woman the boss of me!”
    “No woman ’cepting your mama and Sissy,” I muttered.
    Clarence