HARMONY

Part 42 "It might be up to Claire"

Sophia drove her spoon into the gallon of mint chocolate chip nestled between them. Claire walked into the room and joined her.

"So, Nana's all moved in?" Sophia asked. "Your mom didn't jump from the balcony?"

"Seriously." Claire looked over at Sophia's laptop. "But the day's not over. Any progress?"

"Some," Sophia said. "Where's that list you made of the people at the party?"

Claire pulled the journal out from her bag. She had drawn a brief outline of the house and placed the people where they said they were standing. Sophia parked her spoon and continued to click on her laptop, giving more names and places to Claire.

Sophia's bedroom door opened. "You girls need any more mcc?" Pete asked as he cinched his powder blue bathrobe.

"No thanks Pops."

He took a step inside. "Making any progress?"

Claire licked the back of the spoon. "There were like 400 FaceBook posts about the party."

"And that's good?"

"Ah yaa. Everyone thought they'd be so like in-the-know and saying where they were and everything like that so we have a list of who said they were on the stairs, but that's like forty people so they are so lying but I know four of them who are totally real and we're gonna call them."

"No, we ain't calling nobody," Sophia said. "People get all scared and say weird shit so we gotta go talk to them face-to-face to see if they're lying to us."

Pete turned to leave.

"Oh my God!" Sophia said.

"What?"

"Come here, come here. Look at this post."

Pete and Claire hovered over Sophia's shoulder. "Oh my God," they repeated together.

***

With a blue golf pencil, Drew wrote his name at the top of the paper, using only lower-case letters—drew kingsley. Underneath that, he scratched a few random rows of tally marks. He put his pencil down, folded his hands and slid into his desk. He stared straight ahead. The teacher, Ms. Kauo, a large Hawaiian woman in her mid 60s, wrote the quote of the day on the tired grey slate board. "People don't fail. They quit."

Keeping his eyes locked forward, Drew avoided the surrounding six rickety desks that held society's cast-offs. The teacher gave each boy the day's reading packet—a three-page insipid short story followed by ten reading comprehension questions, a vocabulary worksheet, and of course, a crossword puzzle. Each packet landed with a mind-numbing plunk complimenting the painful tick of the clock.

"Oh, I'm sorry Drew," Ms. Kauo said. "I forgot to get your books."

"I'll do this."

"You're welcome to work on the assignments they've been sending from your school to keep you on track for college."

"I'd rather do this," Drew said. He gripped his golf pencil and reviewed the 'Harriet Tubman and the Underground Railroad' packet.

Ms. Kauo gave a sad smile. "Okay boys, today we are going to learn about a remarkable woman. Her name was Harriet Tubman."

Drew's fingers burned red as he gripped his pencil. With short shallow breaths, he tried to stay focused.

"Would someone like to read the first paragraph?"

"Make the smart fucker do it," said a voice of foul breath next to Drew.

"Remember our vow of respect DeJohn," Ms. Kauo said. "Drew? Would you like to read the first paragraph?"

"No ma'am". He leaned forward.

The raspy voice countered, "Oh, come on, Mr. College. Show us how smart you are."

"That's enough. If Drew doesn't want to read, he has that right."

Like an air serpent, whispered words wrapped around Drew's throat, "Gonna get you college-fucker."

Ms. Kauo began reading the first paragraph. "Harriet was born in 1820 to parents who were brought from Africa and sold on the slave auction---"

Drew felt whispers rerunning through his mind—those words that came to him in the halls, cafeteria, yard and class-- "Gonna get you when you sleep."

"—even as a small child, she showed spirit that could not be beat out of her. She took a blow to the head when she was only 14 when protecting another slave---"

"Gonna beat you," the whispers haunted him.

"—She married John Tubman at age 25, but he did not share her dreams of freedom, so she escaped alone. Following the North Star and living from the land—"

"Gonna tear out your college tongue."

"So successful in her 19 trips to bring hundreds to freedom, they called her Moses. Even a 40 thousand dollar bounty didn't slow her down. She rescued her brothers, sisters and her aging parents so they could die free and in peace--"

"You gonna die in here. Slow and painful."

"She later became a spy and a nurse during the Civil War. She led raids on confederate camps and was recognized for her courage—"

Drew shifted in his seat. His fingers now white around the pencil, he hunched forward as far as he could and dug the lead deep into the paper. Cold sweat oozed from every pore. The whispers continued to scuttle through his mind like rats squeaking and hissing.

"You're dead smart kid."

Mrs. Kauo looked up briefly, then continued. "She later married and lived in peace for over 20 years. In 1896, she became a delegate to the National Association of Colored Women and bought property to establish the first assisted living facility of its kind---"

"Gonna kill you college boy."

"At age 90, Harriet lay down in her bed. She was surrounded by the children and grandchildren she led to freedom. As they held hands and sung Swing Low Sweet Chariot, she drifted peacefully into her final sleep. Beautiful and free."

The tear escaped Drew's eye, made its way down his cheek and dripped onto his paper.  

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