“These images are awful.”

“Just concentrate on looking for a little white woman. She shouldn’t be that hard to find if she’s in there.”

Another hour passed and my legs ached, my eyes burned. Leaning back in the chair, I stretched.

“Ellie …” Hutch reached out his hand without looking up. “C’mere.”

I took his hand and bent over as he slid his chair to the side. I glanced at a grainy and fogged black-and-white photo of a white woman kneeling in the street next to a bleeding man. Above her there was another man, his hand on her shoulder, his back to the camera. She looked up to the camera with tears on her face, her mouth distorted with whatever angry words were flowing forth. Her hair was falling into her face and down her back. She wore a flowered sundress cinched at the waist but obviously covered in dirt and blood.

I took in a quick breath. “Yes, that is Mother.”

“Thank you so much, Ellie. This is exactly what I needed to make a difference.” He sat back in his chair and kissed my hand. “Exactly. There is nothing like a picture. You can tell someone the history, but to show them is fantastic.”

I smiled. “Good.”

After we made copies and returned the film, we were back in the car. “You want me to drive?” I asked. “I mean, I’m the one who napped on the way here.”

“No, I like to drive. Sit back.”

The highway shimmered in a bluish evening haze while the car filled with the sweet smell of cut grass and wet earth. “We have to get back for Birdie’s party,” I said.

“Yep, Drew told me about it.”

“You coming?”

He nodded. When we hit the highway, a few fat drops of rain landed on the windshield and then splattered on my face.

“Rain,” I hollered, laughing.

Hutch looked up to the sky. “It didn’t look like it was gonna rain, did it?” He pulled to the side of the road, and then a deluge dropped from the sky with a furious force, as if the rain were meant just for Hutch on the side of the road, frantically pulling on a convertible top. When Hutch got back in the car, he was as soaked as if he’d jumped into the bay and then the car.

“Oh, you.” I reached over and wiped his shirt. “You’re drenched.”

He looked at me and laughed. “That was not the first or last time that will happen. The hazards of trying to live with the top down as much as possible.”

I shook my head. “You’re crazy. You know that, right?”

“I do. But I hope it’s in a good way.”