Darkness Before Dawn by Sharon M. Draper Page A

I felt like the rock where my feelings used to be was starting to dissolve. The snow had started to fall again.

8
    The next day, school was once again cancelled because of the snow and the bitterly cold temperatures. I cheered sleepily when I heard the announcement on the radio, then went back to sleep with a pillow over my head. Jalani called a couple of hours later, waking me from a confusing dream about dolphins on a ski slope.
    â€œYou up, girl?”
    â€œDo I have to be?”
    â€œIt’s so pretty outside!”
    â€œIt’ll still look good when I get up,” I grumbled good-naturedly. “What’s on your mind?”
    â€œI’m on my way to see Angel. She needs lots of encouragement. Want to come with me?”
    â€œDon’t you mean you’re on your way to see Gerald?” I teased her.
    â€œI can’t help it if he lives there!” Jalani laughed.
    â€œYou think the corner coffee shop is closed today?”
    â€œNo, those places never get days off for bad weather. I’d hate to work there.”
    â€œOK. Buy me a cup of hot chocolate and a donut to warm me up, and I’ll come with you,” I said. I didn’t want to stay home alone all day anyway. My parents, of course, had gone to work, grumbling about school kids who got to stay home and sleep in on snowy days.
    â€œBet. I’ll see you in an hour or so.”
    I stretched, climbed out of bed, and looked outside. Every tree limb, telephone wire, lightpost, and street sign was covered with several inches of shining snow. I thought it looked as if one of those magic princesses from those old European folk tales had touched the city with a magic wand, turning everything to diamonds made of snow.
    An hour later, I was in Jalani’s car clutching a warm cup of hot chocolate, hoping the little BMW wouldn’t slip on the icy roads. But Jalani drove carefully and pulled into a parking space that had been cleared of snow right in front of Gerald’s apartment building.
    â€œGrab that container of soup, would you, Keisha,” Jalani asked as she gathered up the bag of donuts and a windshield scraper.
    â€œGot it!” I replied. We tiptoed up the unshoveled walk way, leaning on each other while trying not to fall. I glanced to my left, and noticed a woman huddled in a corner, near the heat exchange unit of the building. She had on several coats, a number of scarves, and two hats. Oneof her boots was red, the other was blue. She looked like she was either asleep or dead.
    â€œIs it Christmas yet, chil’ren?” the woman asked, suddenly sitting up, startling us and making us gasp.
    â€œExcuse me?” I said hesitantly.
    The woman spoke louder this time. “Is it Christmas yet?”
    â€œNo, ma’am,” I told her. “We’ve got three more weeks. Why do you ask?”
    â€œâ€™Cause at Christmas they give us food and clothes. Like we ain’t hungry or cold any other time.”
    We weren’t sure what to say. I don’t think either of us had ever had a conversation with a homeless person before. “Would you like some soup?” Jalani asked the woman suddenly, taking the soup from me and offering it to the woman. “I made it myself.”
    â€œHot soup?” the woman asked. She acted like Jalani was offering her a basket of diamonds or something.
    â€œYes, ma’am,” Jalani replied.
    â€œGirls like you can’t cook. Your mama made it.”
    â€œMy mama is dead. She taught me how to cook, though. It’s Nigerian stew.”
    â€œI’m sorry, baby. Sorry ’bout your mama, too. Young people usually ain’t very nice to me. I been beat up twice.”
    Again neither of us was sure what to say. “Do you want the soup, ma’am?” Jalani asked again.
    â€œYes, I would. Thank you, honey. And what you know about Nigeria? You from Africa?”
    â€œYes, ma’am. I was born there.”
    â€œAlways