them certain houses just because they’re black!” Tish sounded angry. Although she owned her own hair salon and Charles had a good job as a pharmacist, they were having trouble buying a house.
“You two aren’t the only ones facing that battle,” Melody’s mother said. “Come to our next Block Club meeting. Someone from the Fair Housing Practices Committee is coming to talk to us.”
“Is that so?” Charles said.
“We’ll be there,” Tish said.
“Housing laws need to change,” Melody’s mother agreed. “But Pastor Daniels asked us to change ourselves, too. I think I might start tutoring after school again.”
Yvonne nodded. “I’m going to take Pastor Daniels’s challenge with me when I go back to school. I’m not sure what I’ll do on campus, but I know what I can do in the community—well, a community in Mississippi. There’s talk about students going there this summer for a civil rights project. I want to go.”
Melody’s mother shifted in her seat. “What exactly would you all be doing?” she asked.
“A bunch of things. I heard there will be more voter registration, and volunteers will talk to black folks to remind them that they have a say in how this country works. I think they’ll also be setting up community centers and schools. I might try working with kids.” Yvonne was speaking fast, the way she did when she was excited about an idea.
“Teaching?” Melody asked. “Just like Mommy!” Melody looked at their mother, who looked pleased.
“I thought you were studying business,” pointed out Lila, who liked to get all the facts straight.
Yvonne laughed. “I am, Lila. But let’s just say that I want to make it my business to help teach black history. Schools are really poor down there. Lots of kids in black communities don’t know about the contributions black Americans have made.”
“You mean, like Dr. King?” Melody asked.
“And many others,” Big Momma said. “Harriet Tubman, Frederick Douglass, and Mrs. Rosa Parks.”
“Yes, yes!” Yvonne was bouncing in her seat. “I think when you know about your history, and when you’re proud of it, it makes you stronger.”
“We sent you to college to learn,” Melody’s father said, looking steadily at Yvonne.
Daddy paused, and Melody saw Yvonne take a deep breath.
“Seems like you are learning,” Daddy continued. “To follow your own mind, and make justice and equality grow.”
Yvonne let out the breath she’d been holding and smiled. “Thanks, Dad.”
“However,” Daddy said, leaning forward so that his arms rested on the table, “I want you to be careful in Mississippi and to be safe.”
Yvonne laughed. “I know, Dad.” But when Daddy gave her a stern look, Yvonne said, “Yes, sir.”
Melody smiled, hoping she could have just as much courage in her choice for change as her brave big sister.
“What about you chicks?” Big Momma said to Melody and Val. “What are you going to do with your gift?”
“Us?” Val replied. “Did Pastor Daniels mean kids, too?”
“Of course he meant kids, too,” Melody said excitedly.
“He certainly did,” Big Momma said as the grown-ups around the table nodded and smiled.
Suddenly, Yvonne slipped her arm around Melody’s shoulder. “Speaking of gifts, somebody should be thinking about her birthday gifts.”
“That’s right!” Lila slapped the table with her hand. “Dee-Dee is officially ten years old!”
“I am,” Melody said, realizing that she’d just stayed awake past midnight for the first time ever. The New Year had begun, and it was her birthday. As she blinked away sleep, she thought about Pastor Daniels’s challenge and wondered what great big idea would come her way.
Double-Digits Birthday
Melody was only halfway through the stack when the doorbell rang.
“Happy Birthday to yooouuu!” Sharon and Diane sang as Melody opened the door.
“Are we too early?” Sharon asked, peeling off her coat and hanging it on one of the hooks by the door. “My dad wanted to drop us off before his football game came on.”
“My daddy’s upstairs right now listening to a game on the radio,” Melody laughed. “And you’re right on time.”
“What’re you doing?” Diane asked, hanging her jacket over Sharon’s. She gave Melody a tube-shaped package tied with yarn at either end. It looked like a big piece of candy.
Melody put the package on the coffee table and motioned toward the record player. “I’m trying to find some music.”
“Wouldn’t it be great if your brother and his group could be here to sing?” Sharon asked.
“Yeah! A live concert would be so cool!” Diane said.
“It would,” Melody nodded. “But The Three Ravens aren’t in Detroit. They sang at a New Year’s concert somewhere in Ohio last night.”
“Too bad,” Sharon said, sorting through the records lying on the sofa. “Hey! Here’s Little Stevie Wonder’s ‘Fingertips.’” Melody put the record on the turntable and carefully moved the needle arm to its edge.
“This is birthday music!” Sharon hopped up, and the girls began to dance.
Sharon was right. The sounds of the harmonica and Stevie Wonder’s 12-year-old voice made Melody want to move, laugh, celebrate, and sing. They danced their way across the floor and into the dining room.
Melody barely dodged the kitchen door as her mother opened it, carrying the triple-chocolate cake on a blue glass plate.
“Whoa, there, birthday girl!” Mrs. Ellison said, placing the cake safely in the center of the table. Melody stopped. Sharon and Diane froze.
“Sorry, Mommy!” Melody said, still bopping her head to the music.
“Sorry, Mrs.
