"The Lions of Little Rock" by Kristin Levine, Chapters 13-23

My skin was the same beige color it had been before.

Finally, in desperation, I imagined them all in their underwear.

Sally was stroking her hair, preening like a peacock.

“If you’re really lucky, you lose your job or you’re kicked out of school. If you’re a little less lucky, you get beat up, but after a few weeks your injuries heal and you’re left alone. If you’re not lucky, a lynch mob comes and firebombs your house, killing you and everyone you love.”

“If you’re really lucky, you lose your job or you’re kicked out of school. If you’re a little less lucky, you get beat up, but after a few weeks your injuries heal and you’re left alone. If you’re not lucky, a lynch mob comes and firebombs your house, killing you and everyone you love.”

Did she think there were radical segregationists lurking under our sideboard?

Did she think there were radical segregationists lurking under our sideboard?

Schools to be closed indefinitely.

But he scowled as he said it, and I realized then, certain as could be, that when asked if Negroes and whites should go to school together, he had voted yes.

Liz was funny and outspoken and clever, and I didn’t see how all that had changed, just because people were now calling her colored.

Their avowed purpose is to support segregation in Little Rock.

Their avowed purpose is to support segregation in Little Rock.

It seems reasonable to assume that some of their members are Klan sympathizers, at the very least.

“If they were still being harassed, why didn't they complain?”

I stared at my plate, a half-eaten pancake wallowing in a pool of maple syrup.

I would say something like “good-bye, dearest sister of mine,” and Judy would burst into tears, and Daddy would be so touched, he’d relent and take us all home.

He had short hair, was clean-shaven and had that serious yet helpful expression on his face, just like the reverend at our church.

“Marlee,” Daddy said automatically, “we weren’t…”
But I guess he realized there was no point in lying, because he sighed and said, “Sit down and finish your dinner.”

Pretty Boy was singing away in my room right now, so I was pretty sure he had lived through whatever misfortune had befallen him.

But Daddy wasn’t deterred by my lack of interest.

So we put the cover on his cage and went to bed. And in the morning, when we took off the cover, there was Pretty Boy sitting on his perch, singing. Singing just as pretty as he ever had.

We could hear a man’s voice, low and gruff, but we couldn’t make out the words.

“Actually,” said the man, “I’m a federal marshal.”

“You are not to teach at T. J. Raney. This is an order from the federal government, which supersedes any state laws. You need to remain at your old school. Even if there aren’t any students.”

The area of each plate was pi times the radius squared.

“Liz?” I ventured.
The girl turned to face me. “You came,” Liz said.
“Of course I came,” I said. “I invited you.”

But this wasn’t some random hypothetical Negro—this was Liz.

Though if she was trying not to be noticed, she probably should have picked something less conspicuous.

“The first two and the last two digits are the year,” said Liz.

We went to church as usual Sunday morning at Winfield Methodist Church, but I had a hard time keeping myself from yawning during the sermon.

That week in Sunday school, Miss Winthrop was talking about the apostle Peter and how he thought you should be good, kind and loving to everyone, even if it was hard.

Then she read a quote from 1 Peter 3:14 that caught my attention: But even if you do suffer for righteousness’ sake, you will be blessed.

He was short, of course, and I’d always thought he was as bland as a glass of apple juice.

Kids weren’t as intimidating as grown-ups.

“Didn’t she realize it could be dangerous for you? Didn’t she think about the repercussions?”

“Elizabeth, people have been killed over less. After taking such an enormous, and I might say foolhardy risk, you might at least—”

“Are you saying you’ll vouch for her?”

“Please, Marlee. For a girl who can solve a magic square, I’d think you’d be a little more inventive.”

“Marlee, I know your father has some liberal views—and I applaud him for that—but you can’t be friends with that girl.”

And when I walk down the hall, people move away to let me pass so I won’t accidentally bump into them. Like I’m a leper or something!