The Road to Memphis by Mildred D. Taylor

Author:Mildred D. Taylor [Taylor, Mildred D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Juvenile Fiction, People & Places, United States, African American, Social Issues
ISBN: 9781439578292
Google: xt8WQwAACAAJ
Amazon: B00B1FG9RG
Publisher: Puffin
Published: 1992-06-02T07:00:00+00:00

The Road to Memphis

All around us the world lay black. Only the headlights of the Ford cut a swath of brilliance across the night. Earlier a few cars had passed us going toward Jackson, and several huge trucks traveling north had closed in behind us, then sped on. But no other vehicles were now on the highway. There were no lights along the roadside either. For a while after we left Jackson we had seen lights flickering in roadside houses and in little towns still awake as we passed through. Now the towns were asleep, and all lights were out; we seemed alone in the world. Once Stacey stopped the car, and all the boys got out and walked off to the woods. I didn’t go with them. I didn’t like the thought of squatting out in the night over things I couldn’t see. I told them I’d just wait.

“Won’t be any toilets we can use between here and Memphis,” Stacey told me.

“Said I’d wait.”

“All right, suit yourself.”

As we made our way through the hill country the smell of skunk and other wild things seeped like a gaseous stink into the car. Little Willie complained about the smell for a while, then fell off to sleep. Clarence, too, slept. Moe and I remained awake, and, of course, Stacey was at the wheel, but none of us said anything much. I suppose we were all too caught up in our own thoughts for talking. The day had moved so fast and the night even faster. There was a lot to think about. I thought about all that had happened in Strawberry. I thought about the once important debate, the once important grade I needed to get, and realized how unimportant they seemed now. I thought about Solomon Bradley, too, and wondered if we would see him in Memphis. I hoped so.

Since there was no radio in the car, there was no distant voice to soothe the night or the ride. Stacey fixed his eyes on the road; Moe stared out the side window into the blackness of the night. I shivered and pulled my coat close. The heater was barely working, and I was cold. Stacey glanced over at me and pushed the heater up to full blast, but it didn’t make much difference.

“Right about now I’m wishing this car had a better heater,” he said.

“No more than I,” I replied.

He smiled, then glanced at the gas gauge. He had filled the tank in Jackson, so there was plenty of gas. But I knew something about the car was bothering him. “What is it?” I said.

“I don’t know. Car’s not running quite right. Think I need to stop at a station somewhere and check under the hood.”

“You figure we can find something open this time of night?”

“I recall, there’s a truck stop along here somewhere. We’ll stop there.”

The silence settled in again. The night passed on. Finally we saw lights in the distance. It was the truck stop. In addition to the gas station, there was a small store and a cafe.

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