back by a headband.
“What are you doing here?” Melody asked after Yvonne hung up the phone.
Yvonne didn’t look happy. “I’m taking a break from my summer job hunt.”
“Why?” Melody was trying to pay attention, but she noticed a pretty yellow flower in the cooler that she’d never seen before. It would be a perfect addition to her Mother’s Day arrangement, she thought.
“I just applied for a job at the bank. The newspaper said they were hiring students for the summer, but no luck for me.”
“Maybe the jobs are all full, and they don’t need anybody else,” Melody suggested.
“That’s what the manager told me, but it wasn’t true. He didn’t even look at my application. A white girl about my age went into his office after me, and I heard him say they still had several summer positions open.”
Melody jerked her head away from the cooler. “Is that the same bank where Mommy took me to open my savings account?”
Yvonne flushed angrily in answer. She looked as if she might cry.
Melody was outraged. “If they won’t give my sister a job because she’s black, then I’m going to take my money to a different bank.”
Yvonne tried to smile. “Thanks, Dee-Dee.”
“I’m serious,” Melody said. The hurt on her sister’s face made Melody think about something from a long time ago.
Once when Melody was only four and everyone else was already going to school, her grandparents had taken her south to see their cousins. It was very hot, and the lemonade in Big Momma’s thermos was gone. Melody was still thirsty, so when Poppa stopped at a gas station in Alabama, Melody begged for a drink. There was a Coca-Cola machine, red and white and shiny. Poppa had given her a nickel so that she could buy an ice-cold soda pop. But when they got closer, Big Momma said, “Stop, baby.”
“I want a drink!” Little Melody had stomped her foot.
“I know,” Big Momma said, “but we can’t today. The machine is broken. Put your money in your pocket now.”
Big Momma had taken Melody’s hand to guide her away, and as Melody cried and followed, a little blonde girl about her size went to the machine. She stood on tiptoe and dropped a coin in. Then she reached in and pulled a frosty bottle out of the machine.
“It’s not broken!” Melody had shouted. “It’s not! I want a soda pop, too!” she’d cried, pulling against Big Momma’s arm. Melody remembered crying for a long time, and none of Big Momma’s other treats could make her feel better.
It wasn’t until she was older and she could read that she understood. A few years later they were again driving south and stopped at a station, this time in Tennessee. Melody got out to stretch her legs, and she saw the same kind of soda machine. There was a sign above the machine that said “Whites Only.” That’s when Melody realized that the machine in Alabama must have had the same kind of sign.
When they got back to Detroit, Melody had asked Big Momma why she hadn’t told her about the sign the first time.
“Because it hurt me too much,” Big Momma said. “I didn’t want it to hurt you, too.”
Melody’s memory faded as the bell on the door of the flower shop tinkled, but her determination to go to the bank the first chance she had did not.
Two teenage boys had wandered into the store, and the girls turned their attention to them. They seemed lost. Poppa was still busy, so Yvonne greeted them.
“You sell corsages?” one of them asked sheepishly.
Melody smiled. She knew that a corsage was the tiny flower arrangement that girls wore to dances and proms.
Yvonne looked very businesslike. “Yes,” she said. “Are you looking for a corsage to pin on her dress, or for her to wear on her wrist?”
“I dunno,” the boy said.
“How much do they cost?” the other boy asked.
“How much do you have?” Yvonne asked.
“One dollar!” they both said at the same time.
Yvonne rolled her eyes, and Melody tried not to laugh. One dollar wasn’t enough money to buy a very fancy corsage. But she could tell that Yvonne had a plan. Poppa, finished with his customer, was watching.
“Well,” Yvonne said, “we can give you a special prom deal. Two single carnations with two ribbons for one dollar! We’ll even match the color of the ribbons to the young lady’s dress.”
Melody saw Poppa’s eyebrows rise.
“For real?” The first boy was shocked.
“Tell your friends,” Yvonne said. “I know there are three dances at different high schools next week. This special runs only till Wednesday.”
“Cool! We’ll spread the word! Do we pay now?” the second boy asked.
“Yes.” Yvonne picked up a receipt book from the counter. Melody went over to her grandfather.
“Poppa, I think you should give Yvonne a job.”
“I’m thinking the same thing, Little One,” he said.
“Mommy!” Melody yelled, as soon as she and Yvonne got home. “Mommy!”
The radio was playing a Smokey Robinson song when Melody burst into the kitchen. Her mother was snapping her fingers to the beat while she danced in front of the refrigerator. There was a stack of her students’ math papers on the kitchen table and a pot of spaghetti sauce bubbling on the stove.
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.
