The Girl on the Outside by Mildred Pitts; Walter Page B

felt so angry. Why this sudden animosity toward Ida who had been in the house as a servant as long as Sophia could remember? Always it had been Ida to whom she had gone when everyone else refused to understand her. Never before had there been any doubt that Ida was the one person upon whom she could depend.
    The quiet in the room disturbed her, and suddenly guilt replaced her anger. Was it her mood that had ruined the harmony that existed in the room earlier? What was happening to her? She still wanted to know if her parents had ever mixed with colored people the way Burt said they had. But how could she ask that now? Why had what she said about Ida brought such a response from her father? He never cut Burt off. No. There were long clarifying discussions with him!
    Suddenly her mind went back to Rod and she felt a terrible pang of guilt. She longed to place her head in her mother’s lap and beg forgiveness for what she had said about Ida. She wanted assurance that everything was all right. Then she could feel free to ask them if what Burt said was true. She sighed and asked, “Where is Burt?”
    â€œHe’s out trying to get a scoop on the governor’s speech,” her father said. “But that’s a well-kept secret. No one will know until we all know in about an hour.”
    Sophia sat up, determined it was now or never. “Mom.…”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œOh, never mind.…”
    â€œWhat is it, dear?” her mother asked with so much warmth that Sophia was encouraged.
    â€œDid you ever go down to colored churches?”
    â€œNo … I don’t remember.”
    Sophia flushed. Her heart beat faster and she tried to control this unexpected happiness that came out of knowing her parents had not done such a thing. “You and Dad never took Burt and May to hear colored people sing?”
    â€œOh, that. Not at a church, dear. But that’s so long ago. Honey,” she turned to her husband, “what was that colored school?”
    â€œThat Baptist college? My, my, that’s been years ago.”
    â€œDid you go there?”
    â€œYes. We used to. I remember. Oh, and could they sing,” her mother said.
    â€œAnd you sat with them?”
    â€œWell, we had special seats,” her father said.
    â€œWhy … why did you want to go there?” Sophia asked in dismay.
    â€œI was on their Board then,” her father said matter-of-factly. “I’d forgotten that, those were pleasant times … no pushing then for the mingling of the races.”
    â€œThey had very special concerts that were excellent. Especially at Easter,” her mother recalled with enthusiasm.
    Sophia felt a sudden letdown. Why hadn’t they mentioned this before? Didn’t they know that Grandma Stuart had forbidden her to even think of going among those people? “Why didn’t you tell me you had done that?” Sophia asked. The tone was sharp.
    Her father, who had his hand on the knob to turn on the television, straightened up and looked at Sophia.
    â€œWhy, Sophia!” her mother said. “What’s with you this evening?”
    â€œYou never asked. And how did you find out?” her father wanted to know.
    â€œBurt told me.”
    From the hall, Burt’s voice came in loud and clear. “And what did Burt tell you?”
    â€œIt’s no secret and no big thing,” their father said.
    â€œI don’t know what has gotten into Sophia these last few days,” their mother said.
    Suddenly there was a loud rumbling noise.
    â€œWhat’s that?” their father asked, alarmed.
    â€œSounds like war,” Burt said.
    â€œOh, Burt, you having one of your nightmares?” Sophia asked, wanting to be mean.
    The noise increased steadily. Sophia ran with Burt to the nearby street.
    It was not one of Burt’s nightmares. It was real. The traffic was halted; people stood outside their cars; children bicycled and roller-skated