Walter shrugged. “I liked it just fine before.”
As he led her through the grass, Sophia heard a barn owl hissing and screeching, sounding like a terrified woman, and crickets rubbing the edges of their forewings.
“I don’t know how you sleep out here,” she whispered to Walter. “So creepy.”
“The sounds don’t bother me none.”
But then Sophia thought she heard a rustling coming from behind them, just below the evergreen bush. She held the travel case in her arms like a football. She didn’t know if she should hide or run. Her heart seemed to move down into her stomach. It was over. Ma Deary or the Old Man had gotten wind of their plan. They would make Sophia stay and work the farm. When she turned, she braced herself to come face-to-face with one of the grown-ups, but what she saw was a startled fawn.
“Come on.” Walter continued.
They hiked a little farther, until they reached the small clearing where he had hidden Ma Deary’s Rambler.
“How in the world did you get the car all the way out here?” Sophia asked, placing the train case in the backseat.
“I pushed it in neutral so that the engine wouldn’t wake the house.”
“All by yourself?”
He stretched his arms above his head, then cranked the engine. “You owe me.”
Sophia settled in her seat, filled with gratitude for her older brother. She had never felt much tenderness from Ma Deary, not even as a child. When she fell, it was always Walter who picked her up and bandaged scraped knees.
They pulled onto the main road. Ma Deary’s car smelled like her lily-of-the-valley perfume. “You sure you know how to get to the school?”
“I studied the Old Man’s map last night.” Walter rolled his windowdown a crack for fresh air. Sophia looked over at the gas gauge and thanked her lucky stars that it was Tuesday. The Old Man had a ritual. He filled up both cars and the tractors every Sunday night. The Rambler had close to a full tank.
The morning was well underway when the Rambler coasted through the wrought-iron gates welcoming them to West Oak Forest Academy. The lawns on either side of the road were so manicured, they looked like thick carpet. As they drove through the circular roundabout, Walter let out a long whistle between his teeth, pointing out the fleet of expensive cars: Ford Thunderbird, Mustang, Jaguar, Plymouth Barracuda, Buick Riviera. “You’re going to school with some fancy folks, Rusty.”
The grounds were green, wide, and expansive beyond what her eye could see. “This place looks bigger than our entire county.”
“I doubt that. But it does sit on one hundred and seventy acres of land,” she said, quoting from the brochure.
The pea-size knot that had been in her belly when she woke had grown to the size of a beefsteak tomato. Her mind had taken up a steady chant. Ma Deary was right. She wouldn’t be able to keep up. Why hadn’t she listened? She should have been feeding the hens and pulling the eggs, milking the cows, and preparing breakfast for the twins.
“We should turn back,” she said, panicked. “Stop the car. Please, Walter! Let’s go home.”
Walter had located the administrative building at the center of campus. It was distinguished by white columns and a grand double staircase.
“Seriously, Walt. I’m not kidding.” Sophia grabbed her stomach. She hadn’t eaten anything for breakfast, but she could feel the bubble of bile coming up. “I don’t think I can do this.”
Her brother pulled into the parking lot and killed the engine. “Rusty, listen to me. You belong here. And it’s not because you dyed your red hair black.”
“I can’t do this,” she insisted.
“Opportunities like this come up for kids like us once in a lifetime. If you go home, they might not open this door for the next Negro from Prince Frederick.”
“I’m overwhelmed. It’s too much.”
“Look at me.”
Sophia turned in her seat.
“You are Sophia Clark. You have earned this. Now go. ’Cause I’m not taking an ass beating for nothing.” He pressed a dollar bill in her hand, leaned across her seat, and pushed her door open.
She knew her brother was right. They had come too far for her to turn back. “Can you at least walk me in?”
“Not in my overalls, Rusty. I don’t want to make you look like a country bumpkin. Now go on, get.” He gave her his gap-toothed smile.
