Free The Road to Memphis by Mildred D. Taylor Page B

How’s ’bout we all go huntin’ together? ’Specially since we got your dog here. Always did like me a coon hunt. Harris, tell you what. You be the coon.”
    Harris’s eyes grew wide. “S-suh?”
    “What? Ain’t you heard me?”
    Harris looked at me, then back at Statler. “I . . . I don’t know what ya mean.”
    “Sure ya do! We gonna have us a coon hunt, and you gonna be the coon. You make a nice fine fat one too!” He turned. “Leon! Troy! Y’all let them dogs get a smell at Harris! We gonna hunt us some coon t’night!”
    The dogs came in close. Harris backed away. Leon and Troy laughed. I looked at Jeremy, wanting him to say something to stop this, but he looked at Statler and didn’t speak. “Harris,” I said, figuring to shoot up that ridge and get back to Stacey and the others, “come on, let’s go.” But Harris didn’t move.
    Leon nudged Statler. “Seem like to me, Stat, maybe it be more enjoyable it was Cassie there the coon. Sure would be delightful we was to get her cornered.”
    My heart was already beating fast. Now it began to race.Again I looked to Jeremy. This time he spoke up. “Ah, Stat, leave ’em be—”
    “We just funnin’ ’em, Jeremy! They know that.”
    I stepped away, and Harris turned to follow. Statler released T-Bone and cocked his rifle. “You hard of hearin’, boy?” he asked as T-Bone ran off into the night. “You actin’ like you don’t wanna hunt with us. I take offense to that. Here I am bein’ all friendly. Second time I done invited you to join our company, and you just walking off—”
    “No, suh, I—”
    “Offendin’ me and mine.”
    “No, suh, I ain’t meant no offense! I—”
    “Then you gonna ’cept our invite and go huntin’ with us?” Statler fondled the rifle as if about to use it.
    Harris gasped for air. “Yes . . . yes, suh . . . th-that what ya want—”
    “Then, run, boy! Go ’head! Run!”
    Harris looked at me. “Harris, don’t—”
    But Harris, with the dogs leaping dangerously near, backed fearfully away.
    “I said run!”
    Harris did run. He turned away from the dogs and, his whole body shaking, ran as fast as he could down the banks of the Rosa Lee. But he was too heavy to run far, and he soon began to falter. Leon and Troy and Statler laughed. Harris looked a comical figure, but there was nothing funny about his fear. He fell, and Statler called, “Get on up, boy, and go on! Don’t let the dogs get ya now!”
    “Y’all leave him be!” I cried as Harris looked back wildly, struggled up, and ran on, leaving his flashlight behind still shining on the ground.
    Statler looked at me. “You know, I’m thinkin’ maybe Leon’s right. We oughta be chasin’ you. You got more fight . . . .”
    “’Ey, Stat!” called Troy, drawing his attention. “He gettin’ away!”
    I took my chance, turned, and dashed up the ridge.
    Statler laughed.
    “We goin’ after him?” asked Troy.
    “Gotta go after somebody,” said Leon as the dogs strained at their ropes. “Can’t hold these ole hounds here much longer.”
    I reached the top of the darkened ridge, hid behind a tree, and looked back.
    “What ya say, Stat?”
    Statler was looking up the ridge, but I didn’t figure he could see me now. Still, I backed away, farther into the shadows. “Yeah, sure. Y’all go on after him.” Leon and Troy and the dogs took off. “But y’all get him cornered, y’all leave him be till I get there! Y’all hear me?”
    “Yeah! Yeah!” Leon and Troy hollered back and ran on.
    Statler looked over at Jeremy. “You comin’?”
    Jeremy hesitated. “Look, Stat, you done had your fun with him—”
    Statler’s voice hardened. “I said, you comin’?”
    Jeremy didn’t say anything.
    Statler turned in disgust. “Sometimes I don’t know ’bout you, Jeremy. Uncle Charlie, he always did say you got a streak of nigger lovin’ in you—”
    “You got no call t’ say that!” Jeremy shot back.
    “That right?