“They kill black folks here in Jay. Everybody know that. All dressed in white robes and stuff. They kill them just for coming through town. Hang ’em from a limb.”

“Would you hush?”

“If they catch me, I’s done.”

Eulah coughed so hard it sounded like she ruptured a lung. She shivered beneath the blankets. Paul squeezed her tighter, but she still shook.

“Listen to me, Vern, if we hear so much as a possum fart, just head for that door and get outta dodge. Simple as that.”

“Where I go? We’s practically in Jay right now. They probably hang me right here. Maybe from that tree.”

Vern looked toward the window again and let out a sigh. His eyes looked heavy.

Paul was busy thinking of the next thing he would say but fell asleep by accident. It felt so good to nod off. He was low on sleep. During his short sleep, he managed to forget all about sadness, cold, and starvation. But it was short-lived.

A sound woke him.

It was the noise of Vern adjusting the knob on the radio and the static sound of preaching at a low volume. He could see Vern staring at the glowing radio dial. Paul almost told him to turn it off again.

But then, it was J. Wilbur.

*  *  *

Paul was startled awake. When he opened his eyes, he heard a sound. A loud sound. A banging. He could see lantern lights outside the front window. He heard the sounds of dogs.

“They gon’ kill me,” said Vern. His eyes were wide open, his nostrils flared. “They gon’ flat kill me.”

Paul whispered, “Vern, get outta here.”

Paul could see sweat forming on Vern’s forehead. The big black man touched his family. He touched sleeping Pete’s face and did the same with Ruth and the others.

“Git,” said Paul.

“Tell everyone I love ’em, Paul. Tell ’em for me.”

“Shut up.”

“Please tell ’em.”

“Okay, fine, fine, I’ll tell ’em. Now go.”

Vern walked to the door and wedged his big body into the cold. In only seconds, he was gone. Dogs barked. Men shouted. A gunshot rang out. Then another. Then the place filled with icy air and the sounds of hollering men. Another gunshot echoed.

It sounded like a scattergun. The noises woke the children.

Paul leaned forward and talked straight into Pete’s ear. “Anything happens to me, I want you to do something for me.”

“What?”

“Go find Vern.”

“Huh?”

“That’s right. Don’t stop looking until you find him. He can’t be on his own, not in these parts. They’ll kill him if they find him.”

“What?”

“Promise me.”

“I promise.”

The voices got nearer and louder.

“Take everyone to the front of the store,” said Paul. “Go wait behind that counter. Keep everyone outta sight, and keep ’em quiet.”