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s# Stroud and I werethrowing aball back and forth when heasked me about my father. He wanted to know why wewere running away. I told him we were not running away. He said we could call it whatever we wanted, but it looked like running away to him. He wanted me to tell him what waswrong. "Its just a family thing," I said, throwing the ball a bit faster. He snagged it and fired it back. I threw the ball in the dirt, and Stroud made me chase it. It skipped across the gravel drive and rolled back into the trees. I picked up the ball, and then I heard a car, and I turned andsaw a big silver Chrysler coming along the drive. The car zoomed right up to the edge of the yard and skidded to a stop with its front wheels on the grass. The door on the drivers side swung open, but nobody got out. I walked past the other side of the carand into the yard. I still couldn't see the driver because of the glare off the windshield. Stroud had evidently gone inside—I didn't seehim in the yard anymore—and so I'd headed that way to let him know he had company, when I heard a voice. "Young man." I turned and saw an old black woman standing beside the car. "Would you be so kind as to help me with thesepackages?" 70 Stroud and I were throwing a ball back and forth when he asked me about my father. He wanted to know why we were running away. I told him we were not running away. He said we could call it whatever we wanted, but it looked like running away to him. He wanted me to tell him what was wrong. "It's just a family thing," I said, throwing the ball a bit faster. He snagged it and fired it back. I threw the ball in the dirt, and Stroud made me chase it. It skipped across the gravel drive and rolled back into the trees. I picked up the ball, and then I heard a car, and I turned and saw a big silver Chrysler coming along the drive. The car zoomed right up to the edge of the yard and skidded to a stop with its front wheels on the grass. The door on the driver's side swung open, but nobody got out. I walked past the other side ofthe car and into the yard. I still couldn't see the driver because of the glare off the windshield. Stroud had evidently gone inside-I didn't see him in the yard anymore-and so I'd headed that way to let him know he had company, when I heard a voice. "'I: " J.oungman. I turned and saw an old black woman standing beside the car. "Would you be so kind as to help me with these packages?" 7° "Yes, ma am," I said, and I hurried toward her. She looked unsteady on her feet, and when I reached the other side of the car, I saw that she was leaning on awalker. "Those two right there, please." She nodded in the direction of two small plastic grocery bags on the seat. She turned away from the car, placed the walker behind her, and took two very slow steps. I reached in and picked up the bags and then shut the door. The woman planted the walker ahead of her and took two more steps. With each movement forward, she took a brief rest. "I'll go get Stroud if you want me to," I told her. She smiled at me, and with some difficulty she let go of the walker and laid a hand on my arm. "Oh, UncleTruman knows I'm here. Youcan be certain ofthat. He's simply gone into what I call his tortoise mode. He's pulled into his shell for protection ." Sheplaced the walkeragain, tested it, and stepped. "You'd never guess I was once quite athletic, would you? At least one lifetime ago. Still, I've only been usingthis thing for a year."She jabbed the walker into place ahead of her and stepped again. I wondered where Stroud was. When she reached the back door, I started to open it for her, and she said in a whisper, "I'd better knock." She rapped on the door, pushed it open a little, and called out...
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