Tom tried, desperately, to find the words. “I understand your feelings,” he said. “I know it’s hard. And I can’t promise you that no one else will get hurt—maybe they will, I don’t know. But you mustn’t give up. Your boy and all the other children here have got to go to school this morning. It means everything!”

“Easy for you to say,” Abel Green said. “Even if you do mean it, and I ain’t sure you do. For all I know, you got a gang waiting down below. But if you talking what you believe, I say it’s easy! What have you got to lose, white man?”

Tom looked at him. “My job,” he said. “My home. And,” he paused, “maybe my family. Is that enough?”

Joey Green went back into the living room and returned with three books.

“Joey—”

“Don’t try to stop me, Pop. You know he’s right and so do I. We can’t give up now.” He turned to Tom and said, “We better hurry. I got a feeling it’s going to take a lot more talking to get the rest to come along.”

Tom nodded and the two of them went down the stairs.

They called on the Simmonses first. Roger Simmons was at work, but his wife, Angie, was home. She said she didn’t think Joanne should go, but eventually she agreed to it. Joanne herself was willing, so long as she knew Joey would be along.

They stopped at the Dupuys next.

Then they woke up William Hubbs and called on the Andersons and the Frondels and the Joneses and the Treiberts.

Wallace Treibert was the only one who absolutely refused, but Joey told Tom that was all right, because he never cared much for Wallace anyway.

At seven minutes to eight, they gathered in front of The Huddle.

From his window, Glad Owens watched them. He had oiled his guns and cleaned them, but he’d been unable to recruit an army; and he had decided to rest a while before going to war.

He watched.

“Everybody okay?” Joey asked.

The kids nodded. Some seemed nervous; others smiled, happy with excitement.

Tom said, “Let’s go.”

They walked down the gravel path quietly, Tom in the lead; down the path and across the street of old houses and black cars and into the main section of Caxton.

Heads turned slowly.

People walking along the sidewalk stopped walking.

Mabel Dodge very nearly dropped her bag of groceries. She squinted, saw Tom, and opened her mouth.

“Thomas McDaniel!” she said, in soft amazement.

Down the street, Mr. Higgins stepped out of his drugstore and smiled broadly. “Hi, Tom!” he yelled. “What’cha got there?”

Tom waved.

The tiny parade continued.

Crowds were gathering now. Lucy Egan said something to Ella, but Ella did not answer. She watched her father and tried to understand, and could not.

“That’s your father, Ell!”