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Authors: Sharon M. Draper
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âthe Dark Continent.â
âI see what you mean. My mother told me about all that stuff. She said when she was little, all she could buy were white dolls. Every little black girl had a beautiful white baby doll with long blonde curls to love and to hug.
âYouâre right, Rhonda. I had one like that myself.
âYou did? Now thatâs funny!
âWell, times have changed. Stereotypes of color, race, and gender are slowly disappearing. Itâs up to you people to make a world that is better. Well, thereâs the bell. Good discussion, class. No homework tonight. Enjoy the snow.
Â
âAre you feet cold, Andy?
âNot really. Yeah, maybe a little. Hey, Keisha, can I ask you somethinâ?
âSure.
âDo you think Robbie is cold?
âWhat?
âItâs so cold today. And thereâs so much snow. Do you think heâs cold?
âWhat makes you think of stuff like that?
âI was just thinkinâ about how cold my feet are and how uncomfortable it makes me feel. And I was just wonderinâ if Robbie is feeling like this all over.
âAndy, I donât think you should be talking like this.
âSo cold. So cold. I canât stand it! I canât stop thinkinâ âbout Robbie out there frozen and cold in the cemetery. Itâs drivinâ me crazy!
âAndy, stop it! Youâre driving me crazy. Robbie canât feel anything, Andy. Robbie is warm and at peace.
âAre you sure?
âAs sure as I can be.
âWarm?
âWarm.
âAt peace?
âAt peace. Like I wish you could be. Now letâs get out of here. If we miss the bus and have to walk in all this snow, then weâll really know what cold is.
âOkay, okay. Here I comeâ¦. Coldâ¦. Coldâ¦. So coldâ¦.
Accepting Fearâ
Escaping Pain
Andy and the Psychologist
JANUARY 12
âSo Andy, here we are again. Are you ready?
âYou called the meetinâ, boss.
âHow do you like all this cold weather?
âI donât. Everything is cold and dirty and generally depressinâ.
âDo you find yourself depressed very often?
âYeah, sometimes I donât even want to get out of bed.
âDo you feel sad?
âNot really. Just heavy, like Iâm carryinâ âround Mike Tysonâs punchinâ bag inside of me.
âDo you ever feel like youâre âout of touchâ with reality?
âWell, yeah, now that you mention it. Me and Keisha went for a long walk a couple of weeks ago (I have no wheels anymoreâremember?). Weâd been talkinâ âbout Rob and the holidays and how his family must have felt.
âHave you talked to either of Robâs parents since that phone call you had from his mother on Christmas Day?
âNaw, man. I ainât got the nerve. I know they must hate me. Why would they want to talk to the person who killed their son?
âIt might be worth a try. You were Robâs best friend, werenât you?
âYeah, I guess.
âI bet theyâd be glad to talk to you.
âMaybe.
âSo go aheadâyou were talking about the walk you took with Keisha.
âYeah. We stopped at a freeway overpass, and we just stood there for a minute, watchinâ the cars whiz under us. Their lights were on, and they came at us like bullets, it seemedâtoo fast to count. I thought about the four of us the night of the accident, on that same expressway, and I noticed that the retaininâ wall was really only âbout four feet high.
âDid you remember it differently?
âYeah. That night, it seemed like a mountain. And the longer I stood there, the more I became likeâsorta hypnotized by the slick whistlinâ of the cars as they rushed beneath us. And I wanted to jump.
âWhy do you think you felt like that?
âI donât know whyâI just felt like I should be down there, like if I were part of that fast-movinâ rush, I wouldnât
âI see what you mean. My mother told me about all that stuff. She said when she was little, all she could buy were white dolls. Every little black girl had a beautiful white baby doll with long blonde curls to love and to hug.
âYouâre right, Rhonda. I had one like that myself.
âYou did? Now thatâs funny!
âWell, times have changed. Stereotypes of color, race, and gender are slowly disappearing. Itâs up to you people to make a world that is better. Well, thereâs the bell. Good discussion, class. No homework tonight. Enjoy the snow.
Â
âAre you feet cold, Andy?
âNot really. Yeah, maybe a little. Hey, Keisha, can I ask you somethinâ?
âSure.
âDo you think Robbie is cold?
âWhat?
âItâs so cold today. And thereâs so much snow. Do you think heâs cold?
âWhat makes you think of stuff like that?
âI was just thinkinâ about how cold my feet are and how uncomfortable it makes me feel. And I was just wonderinâ if Robbie is feeling like this all over.
âAndy, I donât think you should be talking like this.
âSo cold. So cold. I canât stand it! I canât stop thinkinâ âbout Robbie out there frozen and cold in the cemetery. Itâs drivinâ me crazy!
âAndy, stop it! Youâre driving me crazy. Robbie canât feel anything, Andy. Robbie is warm and at peace.
âAre you sure?
âAs sure as I can be.
âWarm?
âWarm.
âAt peace?
âAt peace. Like I wish you could be. Now letâs get out of here. If we miss the bus and have to walk in all this snow, then weâll really know what cold is.
âOkay, okay. Here I comeâ¦. Coldâ¦. Coldâ¦. So coldâ¦.
Accepting Fearâ
Escaping Pain
Andy and the Psychologist
JANUARY 12
âSo Andy, here we are again. Are you ready?
âYou called the meetinâ, boss.
âHow do you like all this cold weather?
âI donât. Everything is cold and dirty and generally depressinâ.
âDo you find yourself depressed very often?
âYeah, sometimes I donât even want to get out of bed.
âDo you feel sad?
âNot really. Just heavy, like Iâm carryinâ âround Mike Tysonâs punchinâ bag inside of me.
âDo you ever feel like youâre âout of touchâ with reality?
âWell, yeah, now that you mention it. Me and Keisha went for a long walk a couple of weeks ago (I have no wheels anymoreâremember?). Weâd been talkinâ âbout Rob and the holidays and how his family must have felt.
âHave you talked to either of Robâs parents since that phone call you had from his mother on Christmas Day?
âNaw, man. I ainât got the nerve. I know they must hate me. Why would they want to talk to the person who killed their son?
âIt might be worth a try. You were Robâs best friend, werenât you?
âYeah, I guess.
âI bet theyâd be glad to talk to you.
âMaybe.
âSo go aheadâyou were talking about the walk you took with Keisha.
âYeah. We stopped at a freeway overpass, and we just stood there for a minute, watchinâ the cars whiz under us. Their lights were on, and they came at us like bullets, it seemedâtoo fast to count. I thought about the four of us the night of the accident, on that same expressway, and I noticed that the retaininâ wall was really only âbout four feet high.
âDid you remember it differently?
âYeah. That night, it seemed like a mountain. And the longer I stood there, the more I became likeâsorta hypnotized by the slick whistlinâ of the cars as they rushed beneath us. And I wanted to jump.
âWhy do you think you felt like that?
âI donât know whyâI just felt like I should be down there, like if I were part of that fast-movinâ rush, I wouldnât
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