Summer's Heat

Five

Later that week Freddie decided to venture north of town. He told his mother he was going to the park, but instead planned to go find Renfro. He felt awful about lying to his mother, but his feelings toward the black kid far outweighed the guilt of lying. Freddie walked to the ball field and turn north on 5th Street. Then after four or five blocks he noticed the surroundings beginning to change. He walked on but the further north he walked the more uncomfortable he felt. These streets were much different than those on which he lived. There were no sidewalks, no shade trees, and the pavement was crumbling from a lack of repair. Every house was small, and each one was built exactly alike and all painted white. He felt uneasy. The people of the neighborhood were turning to look at him and occasionally one would yell profanities in his direction. He now understood how the black kid felt when he was in Freddie's part of town. Freddie wanted to turn and run, but he just couldn't. He had come to find the kid and he was determined to continue his search until he had done so. Finally, he noticed a tall slim boy at the end of the next block. It was Renfro.

Freddie cautiously approached Renfro, but before he could speak, Renfro blurted out, "What are you doing around here, honky?"

Freddie was taken back. He had never been called a honky. Heck, he didn't even know what a honky was.

"Hey whitey, did you hear me?"

"Uh, uh, Yes." Freddie paused a moment. "I came to find you." Freddie nervously answered.

"What does a lily white peckerwood, want with me?"

Freddie stood in front of Renfro staring down, pawing the ground with one foot, uneasy about making eye contact. "I wanted to come and apologize for what happened at the ballpark. Buster, sometimes, can be a real pain, and I felt bad about the way he treated you."

"Talk about pain. When I came home without the groceries my momma whooped me with a hickory switch then asked me why I didn't take a stand and fight like a man. How 'bout asking Buster to pay for the groceries he ruined?"

"Somehow I don't think Buster would agree to that", Freddie answered hesitantly.

Renfro thought about the courage required of him to go to the store and realized Freddie must have had the same inhibitions coming into his neighborhood. He figured Freddie must be sincere with his apology. Renfro began to ease up.

"Well, you've done what you came here to do, so you better leave." Renfro shrugged.

Freddie asked, "If you don't mind, since I'm here, what's your name?"

"Renfro. Renfro Summer."

"My name is Frederick Longermeyer Alexander, but the guys call me Freddie."

"That's a mouthful." Renfro replied.

Freddie sensing Renfro was becoming a little more at ease asked, "You stopped at the ball field to watch us practice. Do you like baseball?"

"Man, baseball is my life. I'm a pitcher and Bob Gibson is my idol."

Freddie knew all about Bob Gibson from his collection of baseball cards. "Yea, Gibby is the best pitcher, but I'm a catcher, so Johnny Bench is my favorite."

He now knew Renfro's icy exterior was beginning to melt. He was getting somewhere.

Over the next few weeks, Freddie ventured to Renfro's house every chance the opportunity presented itself. Freddie visited so much the neighborhood people began to expect his presence and now paid little attention to him. Occasionally he would bring some of his baseball cards and the two would hand them back and forth studying the stats of each player. But most of the time they would do little more than stand in the streets and talk about how the season was going for Johnny Bench and Bob Gibson.