Things Too Huge To Fix By Saying Sorry - Plot & Excerpts
Leslie asked as we sat in my classroom, which was finally only a classroom again. She wouldn’t stop with the questions, even two weeks after the Meredith riot. I shook my head, but I didn’t say anything sharp to her for asking—because I had considered it. I spent almost a week studying Abram’s face, hour after hour, sometimes all night long. I had thought about taking him out of Mississippi. I had thought about sending him away to our cousins in Chicago. But like me, my baby was born on Mississippi soil. He had roots in this state, deep into the bedrock. What would he become if I cut him loose from Mama and Aunt Jessie and me, from everyone and everything he had ever known and loved? “This is my home,” I told Leslie. “It’s our home, my boy’s and mine. If we leave, they win. It’s like giving up, and my parents didn’t raise me to give up, not ever.” Leslie rubbed the spot on her arm where she’d had stitches from her rock cut. The doctor at the local hospital took them out for her yesterday.
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