She turned away and bent over, resting her palms on her thighs, and tried to catch her breath, cool down. What else could she do?
Olive stepped forward from her cluster of Needham teammates. “That girl cheated,” she announced, raising her index finger to point at Rosie.
Coach Quain and the other two coaches looked back and forth at the girls in surprise.
Rosie huffed, “I did no such thing.”
The coach from Medford frowned. “Mary, is this true?”
All heads rounded in her direction, and she appeared to shrink once she was the center of attention. Rosie placed both hands on her hips and glared at her teammate. Mary blanched. “I . . .”
“Oh, come on,” said Olive, and she turned to Louise. “You saw her, didn’t you? She didn’t run all the way to the tree like the three of us did.”
Louise froze a moment before nodding her head.
Rosie’s eyes blazed. “Don’t be sore losers. I touched that tree.”
“She did not. She cheated,” Olive repeated. She lowered her chin as if preparing to pounce on Rosie.
“All right now, let’s not get ourselves worked up,” Coach Quain said, stepping between the girls.
“This is just a time trial,” the coach from Medford said. “You all ran well. I’m sorry you ladies got confused at the turnaround, but again, this was just for practice. No hard feelings.” He faced his team. “I suppose it’s time to get my crew home. You girls ready to run back?”
At the Medford coach’s urging, his runners jogged toward the sidewalk with Rosie in the lead and Mary disappearing into the middle of the pack.
Louise remained rooted to her spot in the grass. Her heart still pounded, both from exertion and the confrontation. The cavalier way the coaches had dismissed the injustice infuriated her.
Olive stepped next to Louise and watched the Medford girls disappear from view. “You know she cheated, right?”
“It all happened so fast. I couldn’t really believe it,” Louise said. And it was true. With every minute that passed, Louise became less and less sure of what had actually occurred, but at the same time, her stomach soured with the knowledge that Rosie had cheated.
“But why didn’t you say something?”
“I have to be careful . . .” Louise’s voice trailed off. How was she supposed to explain to this girl that accusations could be dangerous? How Olive’s white skin made it safer for her to say something? “I . . . I didn’t know what to say.”
Olive gave her a long look. “How about the truth? Next time, be ready to defend yourself. No one else is going to do it.”
Louise gritted her teeth together and walked away, not looking back, but she could feel the girl watching her. Sometimes standing up for the truth could be complicated. Louise seethed with resentment toward Olive, but also felt a wave of shame for how she envied the simplicity of the girl’s opinions and the confidence with which she defended them.
The other girls called goodbyes and dispersed while the team from Needham returned to their coach’s car and drove away. Coach Quain remained standing next to his car and waved Louise over. Louise looked around, but couldn’t pretend she hadn’t seen him. She walked over to where he waited.
“What happened during that race?”
A knot formed in her throat.
“Was Olive telling the truth?”
Louise nodded.
Coach Quain let out a gusty sigh and leaned against the door of his car. “Today’s runs were nothing to get upset about.”
“Yes, sir.” She kept her gaze on the buttons of his jacket.
“Next time, I’ll keep an eye out for any funny business, you hear me? I know that kind of thing is frustrating. Unsportsmanlike conduct will not be tolerated in the future. Got it?”
“You mean cheating.”
He looked taken aback, but Louise wanted to say the word aloud, feel the weight of it lift from her chest.
He adjusted the brim of his cap, but looked her straight in the eye. “Yes, no more cheating.”
“Thank you, sir.” She turned toward home and set off running. The knot inside her chest loosened with each step. When she cut through Craddock Park, she slowed and headed toward a monument in the corner of the park. She neared the marker and stopped to read the plaque.
Eight years earlier, her uncle Freddie had brought Emily and her to this very spot, swept along by the throngs of Fourth of July parade-goers, jubilant marching-band music swelling around them. Red, white, and blue bunting decorated a makeshift raised stage where the town’s officials prepared to speak. Louise could still taste the achingly sweet cherry sucker Uncle Freddie had handed her as they waited for the ceremony to honor the town’s veterans from the Great War to begin. Even as their neighbors wilted in the July heat, Uncle Freddie looked so handsome in his khaki uniform with its sharp pleats running along the trousers and badge with a red fist glowing on his chest. Louise looked around, expecting to see others admiring her handsome uncle, but the eyes of the parade-goers passed right over him and settled on the white veterans. From what she could see, they were the only black people in the crowd.
Finally the mayor had cleared his throat into the microphone. After he led the crowd through the Pledge of Allegiance, he spoke about the sacrifice Malden’s men had made and read a list of men who had been killed during the war. With each name, Uncle Freddie’s proud grin lost its vigor. Emily fidgeted and tugged at her knee socks. Louise’s head began to ache from too much sugar and she wished she hadn’t drunk the tall glass of lemonade back at the house. Her bladder felt fixing to burst, but she kept quiet, knowing Uncle Freddie was waiting for something.
After the speeches ended, the crowd began to break apart as everyone headed back to their respective homes and holiday celebrations. Uncle Freddie took Louise and Emily by their hands and led them from the park, making no complaint of how sticky they were. In fact, he said nothing at all. Halfway down the block, as the crowd thinned and they were no longer in danger of disappearing into its jostling mass, Emily slipped from his grip and skipped ahead, her pigtails bobbing up and down. After a minute or so, she stopped and turned. “Hey, Uncle Freddie, did you know some of those men who died during the war?”
“I did.”
“Which ones?”
A vein pulsed in his neck. “Their names aren’t on that memorial.”
Emily wrinkled her nose in confusion. “But didn’t the mayor read the names of the men who died? Aren’t all of the names on that old rock?”
“It’s a memorial plaque,” Louise corrected.
Emily rolled her eyes and then refocused her attention back on Uncle Freddie. “Why didn’t the mayor read all the names?”
He plucked a handkerchief from his back pocket. As he mopped his face, it seemed that a flash of anger crossed his expression, but it happened so quickly that Louise couldn’t be sure. He lowered his handkerchief and looked around, and with no one close enough to overhear them, he said, “Girls, when you got dark skin, your sacrifices aren’t counted in the same way they would be if you had white skin.”
“So the names of your friends aren’t on that plaque?”
Uncle Freddie shook his head. “No, they’re not.”