A Kind of Freedom. Margaret Wilkerson Sexton

that Ruby mocked most was that lying didn’t get enough emphasis in the Ten Commandments, but here she was. Maybe next Friday she’d be off at Circle Food stealing glazed meat.

      “You sew? That’s mighty nice.” A pause. “You sewed what you’re wearing right now?”

      Evelyn looked down. Mother had sewn this in fact, but should she say she had to lend her previous lie more credibility? Or was what she was wearing so drab that the new lie would detract from her intent? “Whether you did or you didn’t,” Renard went on, “it’s mighty nice on you. I reckon this is what an angel on earth looks like.” He stammered all over that last sentence, every single word but an, but that was because he was nervous saying what he meant, and their nervousness together was like two negatives multiplied. She felt herself quieting inside. With her head a little clearer, she considered her options: There was absolutely no way she could invite him inside. Her parents wouldn’t be home for three or four hours at least, but Brother could come in any minute, and she’d have to shine his shoes for the rest of the year to get him to forget a man had been in the parlor. If she sat outside though, Miss Georgia would certainly peek out at least once during their visit. She might even walk across the street and embarrass Evelyn. That was a risk Evelyn would have to take. She cleared her throat.

      “My parents aren’t here, or I’d invite you in,” she said.

      “That’s all right, I’d best be going anyhow.”

      He didn’t move though, which gave Evelyn the courage to state her mind. “I can come out and join you if you want to stay a spell.”

      Renard’s face lit up. “I’d love that, miss.”

      She reached into the hall closet for her trench coat and cinched the belt around her waist. They sat on the swing her daddy had built when she turned five, pushing themselves back and forth with their knees bending and straightening at the same rhythm. Evelyn thought about the house from Renard’s perspective, its wood frame with sky-blue trim, the baskets of fresh watered ferns adorning its porch, the pansies and petunias on either side of the long, winding driveway. A large palm tree guarded the corner of their property, and in the summer she and Ruby would sneak under it with books and frozen cups, sugar water iced until it was solid. Evelyn thought to share that memory but realized how extravagant it all might seem. The night air had cooled, and when Renard saw her shiver, he inched over. Even through their coats, she felt grown with his arm so close to hers. She wanted to reach for his hand, but there was Miss Georgia to consider.

      They didn’t say anything for a while, and finally Evelyn thought to ask, “How’d you remember where I lived?”

      “I made myself memorize it when you said it,” he said. “I went over it in my head the whole walk home so I wouldn’t forget.”

      “So you knew all this time you were coming by to see me?”

      “I didn’t know but I suspected.” He grinned. “I wasn’t sure I had the courage, but I knew I wanted to.”

      “How did it happen?”

      “How’d what happen?”

      “How’d you get the courage?”

      “I don’t know. I work for Todd’s Restaurant, over in the Quarter, and I spent the afternoon there, packing and loading boxes, thinking about you. At first I tried to make up excuses. I told myself you probably wouldn’t even be in, and your sister would answer and make me feel like a fool, but when I got home, something surged in my body, and I stood up from my seat and dressed. I don’t know where it came from. Nothing like that has ever happened to me before.”

      “Me neither,” Evelyn said, but she understood it because it was happening now. Her body was being cooled down when just the thought of the two of them sitting anywhere together with an open night laid out in front of them and no schedule on how it should go would have made her frantic just minutes earlier.

      “I’m glad you came,” she said.

      “Me too.” Renard looked back toward the house. “Where’s the rest of your family?” he asked.

      “My mother and daddy are at a Mardi Gras party by my uncle’s. My brother’s out playing. You can hear him if you listen closely.”

      “And your mean old sister?”

      Evelyn laughed though she was normally protective of Ruby. “She’s out with your friend. He didn’t tell you?”

      Renard laughed. “No, he didn’t tell me, but I should have known.” He paused. “We don’t talk about stuff like that.”

      “He’s your friend though?” Evelyn proceeded carefully, not knowing much about friends herself.

      “Yeah, we grew up together.”

      “I haven’t seen you around much.”

      “No, I suppose not. My mother used to work for his family and they took me in when she died. I eat supper over his place every night, and they paid for me to go to school, but we never really traveled in the same circles outside. Now that we’re both studying medicine, it’s just easier to walk together.”

      He delivered so much sadness with such a casual tongue, Evelyn wanted to tell him she was sorry, but she wasn’t sure what she was sorry for, or if he would mistake her care for pity.

      All of a sudden he straightened his back and said, “But don’t worry, miss. That’s why I’m going to be a doctor. I always wanted to be one, and I’m so close now nothing can stop me. And then I’m never going to have to ask for anything that doesn’t rightfully belong to me. Me, nor my family.”

      “That’s mighty inspiring,” Evelyn said. “You’ll make a mighty fine doctor.” She wrapped her fingers around his hand. Miss Georgia could tell the world for all she cared. When her skin met his, he looked over at her with the gratitude of a man who had never felt a woman’s touch. They stared in each other’s eyes in silence, breaking out into grins from time to time when the heat of the connection felt as if it would snuff them out if they didn’t do something to drain it.

      Evelyn wanted to get closer, but she remembered herself and asked for the time.

      “It’s a quarter after ten. Maybe I best be going,” he said. “I have to get up early tomorrow for work.” He stood.

      “At the store?”

      “No, tomorrow’s my day killing chickens. The market sells them live but people pay good money for them already plucked. It’s awful work, but . . .” He trailed off as if he wasn’t sure if he was going to say the next thing. “The government’s hiring plenty for all the ships and tanks and guns they need.” He shook his head, and his face darkened for the first time. “Those jobs aren’t for us though, so I’m killing chickens.”

      Evelyn stood, her heart burning with compassion. She didn’t know how to respond. “Well, it was so nice of you to stop by,” she said finally. “Maybe you’ll do it another time.”

      “I most definitely will.” He took a step toward the porch. “I have church on Sunday but maybe after that.”

      Evelyn nodded. “Me too,” she said. “Where do you attend?”

      “Holy Ghost. What about you?”

      “St. Augustine,” she said. “My daddy won’t step foot in there, says he won’t go to a church that seats Negroes in the back, but Mother says that’s just his excuse, he wouldn’t go to any church, even one that let them sit on the altar next to the priest himself.”

      They both laughed.

      “I wonder how my sister and your friend are doing,” Evelyn smirked, still trying to stretch their time. “They’re out some late.”

      “Going to be much later with my friend,” Renard laughed.

      Evelyn didn’t join in. Ruby wasn’t as conservative as she was, not by a long shot, but