“Some buildings can’t get torn down if they got built by a fancy architect or for a special reason. I think DuSable was the first high school built just for coloreds. That make it special right there.”

I take it all in.

“You know, Nat King Cole learned music at DuSable?”

“The guy who made that Christmas song?” I asked.

Her whole body snapped in my direction. “The Christmas Song? Chile, Nat King done more than just sang about chestnuts. Captain Walt Dyett was over the music program at DuSable, and Honey, Red Fox, Dinah Washington, all kinds of jazz folks done studied at DuSable. We used to go see them Hi-Jinks musicals. Baby.” She stops and puts a hand on one hip. I lean in closer.

“DuSable wasn’t just some school where gangs went and shot up the place.”

“Nat King Cole studied at DuSable?” I repeated.

“The Christmas Song,” she said again, looking like she had something nasty in her mouth.

“It’s why most people know him,” I said.

She lowered her head. “Most people don’t know a damned thing.” We both cracked up at this. Then it was quiet again.

“So how you plan on becoming somebody who works with kids?”

“I could ask Ms. Pierce?”

“Good. You need to tell people too, that that’s where you going. Something about a girl with a plan lets people know you ain’t got time for foolishness.”

“You was a girl with a plan,” I said.

She felt proud and smiled really wide. “Now I’m a old woman.”

“You still got plans?” I asked her.

“I show do! I’m gone move out of this here building and go find me some peoples my age.”

I didn’t like the idea of living far away from Mama Pearl. I’d lost so many people already. But I saw her at church with other seniors, and they had such a good time. I knew it would be nice for her to have a community her own age to spend time with.