Chapter Three (2)
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of meat cooking on the grill. People were milling around, talking and laughing. Someone was playing the guitar. It almost seemed like a block party. As we approached, several people smiled and motioned us to come closer. 


“We are cooking all the meat that was goin’  bad at the grocery store. Come have some supper,” said a man in a police uniform. 

“Thank you,” I said.

“Where y'all coming from?”

“We were at work in Birmingham, when whatever happened, happened,” I answered. 

“Where y'all headed?”

“Sipsey,” Alice said.

“Well, y'all will make it home tomorrow then. You can bed down...

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