My strength is as the strength of ten, because my heart is pure. (Sir Galahad, Stanza i)

Mrs. Brown strolled over to where I stood. “You must leave the school’s property at dismissal. See what happens when you dally around.”

“Yes, m'am.” I tried to keep my legs still.

“What’s wrong with you?” asked Mrs. Brown.

“I have to really go,” I pleaded.

She clicked her tongue. “If you had gone straight home, instead of playing in the dirt, you would not be in this predicament.”

When I tilted my head to think what that word meant, Mrs. Brown smiled.

“You don’t know what ‘predicament’ means, do you?”

I lowered my gaze. I shuffled my legs back and forth. “No, m’am.”

She placed her hand under my chin, so I could see her face.

“When you don’t know something, there’s nothing wrong in asking.”

“Yes, m'am,” I whispered.

“Come,” she commanded, “I’ll take you to the restroom.”

I did not think she would go in there with me, but she did. I felt like a criminal. Did she think I would steal a roll of toilet paper? When I left the stall, I went over to wash my hands.

Mrs. Brown handed me a paper towel. For the first time, I felt a gush of warmth coming from her. I breathed it in.

I tossed the wet towel in the waste basket. “Thank you, Mrs. Brown. I’m going straight home, like you said.”

“No, Cissy,” she said. “I need your help in the classroom.”

I knew she was going to say that and smiled.

From that day on, I stayed after school washing the chalkboard, cleaning the chalk tray and the erasers. In return for doing these chores, Mrs. Brown tutored me in mathematics.

When I left the building, I found Ellen sitting across the street.

“What happened?” she asked.

“I had to clean her chalkboard,” I mumbled.

“But, it wasn’t your fault! That girl should be the one cleaning chalkboards.”

I reached in the pocket of my dress. I pulled out several small pieces of chalk and showed them to Ellen. “I got paid.”

“Can I have a piece?”

I nodded. I knew which one she would take. The biggest piece, but it really did not matter. I had more stuffed inside my pocket.

When we came to the Dogs N’ Suds, a drive-up restaurant, we noticed several girls’ bicycles parked near the entrance. One of the bikes looked very familiar.

At first, neither one of us spoke. We had three choices. We could keep walking and they might not see us. We could go back towards the school and take the long route home. Or, we could take the back alley behind the restaurant.

Ellen and I chose the back alley. When we heard a noise, we froze. It was only a stray dog sniffing for scraps.

When I crossed Highway 574, I had to catch my breath. “I wish I had a bike.”

“Me, too,” said Ellen. “How come you don’t? Your brothers, Mike and Kyle, have bikes?”

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