It was the cacophony, the loud whooping and jeering, that awakened me. It was then I saw the glowing yellow light through the curtains. I pushed them aside and gasped when I realized its origin - a wooden cross had been set ablaze.

There were four or five men on horseback in our front yard. They all wore white sheets with holes cut out for eyes like trick-or-treating ghosts.

Andre was standing right behind me, peering over my shoulder at the men and the blazing message they had delivered. "I’m going out there," he said through gritted teeth.

"No, Andre! They’ll rip you from limb to limb!"

But he was already sprinting toward the door, jaw set in determination. I followed, but he hooked me behind him. "Get back! They’ll see you!" he whispered.

"I’m not letting you go out there alone!" I insisted. He pushed me away again and snatched open the door, but the men were already riding away, hooting and cackling and shouting obscenities.

I collapsed into the nearest chair, sobbing. A moment later I felt Andre’s arms around me, holding me. "Lindy, my Lindy, please don’t cry. It’s all right."

I knew the charred remains of the cross would still be there in the morning, mute testimony that the events of tonight hadn’t been a mere nightmare.

To me it was as memorable as was the day I was a little girl and Mama told me the war was over. Japan had finally surrendered. I asked how many people had been killed by the bombs, but she didn’t want to talk about it. I remember going into our bathroom and looking at myself in the mirror and pulling the edges of my eyes up with my fingertips and wondering what it would be like to be on the other side of the world, where so many people had just perished.

I met him at the department store I’d begun working at after graduating high school a few months previously. I was standing on a ladder stocking glasses on a shelf when one slipped out of my hand and fell. Never hearing the expected crash, I looked and saw that he’d caught it. The deeply tanned, but not quite brown, color of his skin, his tight black curls, dark chocolate-colored eyes, and full lips told me right away that he was one of ’them.’ This notion passed into my brain and then right back out again, supplanted by the knowledge that the price of the broken glass would have been deducted from my wages.

"Thank you," I said as he handed the glass back to me.

"I’m Andre." When he smiled, his teeth looked very white against his dark skin.

"It’s nice to meet you. I’m Melinda."

"Say, what time do you get off?"

"Five. My Mom usually picks me up, but our car’s in the shop right now, so I’ll have to take the bus."

"I could pick you up," he suggested.

As many times as I’d been warned about accepting rides from strangers, something instinctively told me that I could trust him. "All right."

"So, have you lived here your entire life?" he asked on the way home.

"Yeah. Kind of boring, huh?" I laughed, and he joined in. "So where are you from?"

"Louisiana. My father was from Nova Scotia. He had family connections down here. My mother’s people were freedmen, mostly sharecroppers. They met at a Fais do-do, a dance."

"So how did you end up here in Montgomery?"

"My mother’s Uncle Hiram had a stroke, and a few of us came east to help him out. My family, we always look out for each other."

I couldn’t believe we’d already reached my home.

"Thanks for the ride, Andre," I told him as I got out of his Chevrolet Bel Air.