The Road to Memphis Read Online Free PDF Page B

I’m coming!” I called back, then looked at Moe. “You mind what I say, Moe. It’s not too late.”
    Moe smiled at my persistence and shook his head, and we left the fence and headed over to join the others. Before we reached them, several of Moe’s brothers came running up all excited about the car. “Y’all sure y’all like it, now?” teased Moe at their elation. He wasn’t at all bothered that they seemed to have forgotten about the bags of licorice drops he had given each of them upon his arrival. But that was like Moe. It didn’t bother him what other folks had or the praise that was coming to them. He had his own goals set.
    Mr. Turner laughed. “Mos’ likely we ain’t gonna hear nothin’ else ’ceptin’ ’bout this car and them gettin’ that ride!”
    Moe looked at his father. “We’ll have ourselves a car one of these here days, Papa. Have a car and land too.”
    Mr. Turner’s hard-lined face softened somewhat, and he put a hand on Moe’s shoulder. “All I wants is for y’all younguns to get grow’d and off this place. Make yo’selves good lives. I ain’t worryin’ ’bout no car, no land neither.”
    “Still, you gonna have ’em. I promise you that.”
    I don’t know if Mr. Turner actually believed that he would ever have either, but he patted Moe’s shoulder just the same. The land and the car were Moe’s dreams, not his.
    Stacey opened the car door. “Well, we best be getting on. Folks at home probably been looking for us these last couple hours.” He glanced across the car at Moe. “You going with us on the coon hunt tonight?”
    “No, don’t ’spect so. Best stay on home and visit.”
    “All right, then. Comin’ up to church in the mornin’?”
    Moe smiled that dimpled smile. “‘Spect so.”
    “See you in the morning, then,” Stacey said.
    Little Man and I said good-bye to Moe and his family and got into the car. Then Stacey started the Ford and we rolled away toward home. We again crossed the Rosa Lee, but this time, instead of taking Soldiers Bridge Road, we took the Harrison Road, which cut east through the Harrison Plantation and onto Logan land. Our land. Coming up from the west, we passed forest on both sides of the road, but as we drew nearer to the house we began to pass fields planted in hay, soybeans, and sugarcane to the right side of the road. To the left of the road the forest still stood. Then the fields ended, and we turned up a long, dusty drive.
    To the east of the drive was the house Grandpa Paul-Edward Logan had built some forty years ago. The house was wood, had a tin roof, and five large rooms. Like many of the other houses in the area, each room had an outside exit. One room, Mama and Papa’s room, which also served as the living room, had two exits, one to the front porch and the other to the small side porch which faced the side yard and the driveway. Doors from the kitchen and the dining area opened onto the back porch that stretched along the full rear of the house. Deep green lawns and Mama’s flower garden were at the side and front of the house. Beyond the eastern fence the cotton field stretched on and on to a sloping meadow and the magnificent old oak that marked the eastern boundary of our land.
    Stacey drove to the barn at the end of the drive, stopped in front of it, honked the horn, and we all got out. Immediately the side door was thrust open, and Christopher-John came bursting out, excited that we had finally made it home. The kitchen door slammed shut, and Big Ma ran down the back porch. Mama came up from the vegetable garden beyond the backyard. Big Ma fussed at Stacey for taking so long to get home, then hugged him tight. Mama looked at the car, lookedat Stacey, and worried about his spending so much money. Christopher-John took his turn at the wheel. Then, despite Mama’s protests and Big Ma’s fussing, Stacey cajoled them into the car and we all went for a fast, dust-spreading ride up the road.
    Papa wasn’t home