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.When a person eked out a lifetime on a day-by-hopeful-day basis, these things became important.Somehow Qaudia knew that Dorothy Brannan was the bearer of a terrible unpleasantness.The older woman moved her hps close to Qaudia's ear and spoke in a half-whisper."We are dismissing classes for the day.Go and help bring the children back inside so we can get them on their way quietly and orderly."Qaudia's heart flopped painfully and she gasped, "Wh-what has happened?""The Governor and most of the government at Baton Rouge were murdered in their sleep last night.Something isgoing on in Washington, also.Andrew has the tel-ed switched over to FBS if you want to come into the office after the children have left.But hurry, Claudia.Let us get these children into their own homes where they belong." Mrs.Brannan's composure was rapidly leaving her.She fought trembling hps and told the teacher, "For God's sake, Claudia, don't go to pieces now.Remember the children."The elderly woman hurried out, leaving Claudia wringing her hands in stunned confusion.Then Claudia pulled her hands across her face, using a trick her father had taught her many years earlier, and as the hands slid away, a bright and smiling face was revealed, like the sun breaking through a dark cloud.She opened the outside door, marched calmly into the play yard, and began calmly and methodically rounding up the little mavericks and sending them into the old corral.The playground was about emptied, some minutes later, when young Cecile Greene, the first-grade teacher, came running up."I can't find Jimmy Hartman!" she cried, dancing about in a near panic.Claudia placed a steadying hand on the younger teacher's shoulder and told her, "Go on back to your class.I'll find Jimmy.Look in on my gang, will you? Make them behave."Qaudia watched Cecile spring back towards the building, then she rounded the corner by the zap-ball court in search of strays.A little girl of about seven collided with her."Say, you're supposed to be inside," Qaudia told her."Didn't you hear the bell?"The dimpled doll gave Qaudia a con-girl smile and declared, "I didn't have time.""Well you go on in.Do you know Jimmy Hartman?""Nope I don't.""Well have you seen a little boy out here any place where he should not be?""Yes'm I did." She leaned far to the right, as though compensating for the perverse obscurities of geometric objects, and tried to point around the building, the cornerof which was several yards beyondoutstreyched hand "Talkin' to a chok-lut man."Claudia pantomined a gross reaction to a stretchedtruth, patted the littie girl on her bottom, and sent her onher way.Then Claudia went looking for the boy who talked to chocolate men.And she found him, talking to a chocolate man.Claudia did not realize at once that this was indeed the truth of the matter.She could see that there was a soldier involved in Jimmy's AWOL status.He was a large man, kneeling in front of the boy, an automatic weapon slung onto his back, muzzle down, his helmet riding loosely at the back of his neck, and he was talking earnestly to the six-year-old.Somehow the sight of military virility and the armed jeep which stood at the curb just beyond was not nearly so disconcerting, nor did it seem so unusual to Claudia's mind on this particular morning as it would have been on, say—Tuesday morning.Somehow, what with her failure to properly discharge Tuesday, and with the incomprehensible disclosure by Dorothy Brannan such a short while earlier, the military seemed quite fitting and entirely proper.Even if they were, indeed, "chok-lut." Claudia could almost, in fact, have passed her hands back across her face and wept in the sudden joy of released responsibility.Claudia was one of those rare whites who actually missed the black presence in Louisiana.One rarely saw a soldier and there were but two black towns in the entire state—no one went there.She found herself gazing at the soldier with a welling sentimentality.He looked good, by golly, no matter what anyone said—black was beautiful.Jimmy Hartman's chubby little hand was placed trustingly upon the cheek of the soldier, and Jimmy was staring into the soldier's eyes with that unpaintable gaze of childoood fascination."Sure," Claudia heard the soldier saying in that soft organ voice of the black man, "I like to be a soldier and shoot guns.Haven't you ever shot a gun before?"Then Claudia moved in and took charge.Little boyscould not be expected to distinguish between black and white.not when a uniform entered the equation especially.Chocolate and vanilla were simply flavors of ice cream, and what child did not like chocolate best of all? Claudia placed a hand atop the fair head and quietly announced, "You're needed inside, mister.You skedaddle."Jimmy reached out and touched the sergeant's chevrons on the OD sleeve, shot a reproachful glance at his shepherd, and ran a looping trail toward the building.The soldier rose slowly to his full height, gazed down upon the white woman with the shining hair, smiled faintly and flicked a glance toward the school."Sentimental sidetrip," he said softly."I went to this school once, long time ago.""I—I did too," Claudia stammered, suddenly aware that she was actually conversing with a black.She managed a bright smile and went on in a rush.'T mean, I was a student here, also.Now I teach here." She felt the need to keep talking, as though if she stopped for a moment it would suddenly be Tuesday again."I was here from '77 to '83—as a student, I mean.And I've been here since '94 as a teacher.Fifth grade, now.I started all over again, you see, in '94, with the first grade.Now I have made it up to the fifth.Maybe some day I will—"The soldier seemed to understand that she was running without a brake."I was here then," he told her, giving her a chance to breathe."I mean, '77 to '80, or part of '80.Say, I'll bet we were in the same room together some of that time."Claudia stared at the big man, her eyes searching his face for a clue to yesterday, all the while wondering why she was not fleeing back across that schoolyard toward the safety of today."My name is Paul Fulton," the soldier volunteered, looking at her strangely."They used to call me Buck Rogers, cause I always had a toy space gun stashed on the playground, and I ran around zapping everybody during recess."Buckyl Claudia's inner voice screamed.Black BuckyFulton? "I remember a 1-little boy like that.vaguely," she said aloud, feeling faint.Sergeant Fulton was watching her now with ill-concealed friendliness."I remember a little red headed girl," he said."Don't remember the name but I used to zap hell out of her with that gun of mine.She was, uh, a whitey, you know, a little white girl, and she wouldn't pay me no attention, but uh."Children do not change from one generation to another.Of course she paid you no attention, Bucky, but not for the reason you think! Claudia was certain that she was going to faint.The sergeant pulled his eyes away from her and gazed again at the school building."Well.I'm not supposed to be over here.But I was just a few blocks away.Thought I'd come over and take a look, for old times sake [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]