My name be Clark Davis", he hurried on, "an it peers to me thet you an' me be in need of one another".

I'm not leaving you. Not going it alone. Not looking at the memory of you everytime I close my eyes.

It was Pidge's observation that toleration rather than love was what kept her parents together. They were yoked like horses to a plow and they moved through life pulling something neither could see that kept them a safe distances from each other. There was something both admirable and sad in their marital work ethic, and Pidge promised herself she wouldn't settle like they had. It was a promise she broke.

If you've ever had a friend who cares enough about you to get down in the dirt and roll around, to cry and laugh and shovel the manure of life, you'll know how I felt when Ruthie leaned forward. I still get shivers thinking about her words and how true they were. How true they are.

It is a grace to be able to hold onto someone who runs at life when you can only imagine walking.

I remember having crushes and longings, but there were all these missed opportunities or things that seemed like such a big deal, but you really don't understand what the other person is going through.

They held hands and knew that only the coffin would lie in the earth; the bubbly laughter and the press of fingers in the palm would stay aboveground forever. At first, as they stood there, their hands were clenched together. They relaxed slowly until during the walk back home their fingers were laced in as gentle a clasp as that of any two young girlfriends trotting up the road on a summer day wondering what happened to butterflies in the winter.

She needed what most colored girls needed: a chorus of mamas, grandmamas, aunts, cousins, sisters, neighbors, Sunday school teachers, best girl friends, and what all to give her the strength life demanded of her—and the humor with which to live it.

Nobody loved her and she wouldn't have liked it if they had, she considered love a serious disability.

And then she knew. Her friends and neighbors were angry at her because she had overstepped, given too much, offended them by excess.

Pauline, what would you do if your own brother had a party and didn't invite you?' I said ifn I really wanted to go to that party, I reckoned I'd go anyhow. Never mind what he want. She just sucked her teeth a little and made out like what I said was dumb. All the while I was thinking how dumb she was. Whoever told her that her brother was her friend? Folks can't like folks just 'cause they has the same mama.

Saying more might push them both to a place they couldn't get back from. He would keep the rest where it belonged: in that tobacco tin buried in his chest where a red heart used to be. Its lid rusted shut. He would not pry it loose now in front of this sweet sturdy woman, for if she got a whiff of the contents it would shame him. And it would hurt her to know that there was no red heart bright as Mister's comb beating in him.