Maggie and Mr. Hank
-- So how in Hell can The Reverend help Maggie? Maybe The Man at the Air Station could help. Have to think on that.
He walked the few steps each side of the yard.
-- To hell with it, I'll call The Reverend.
Back in the kitchen, he said, "You right, Maggie. I'll call The Reverend."
Maggie had abandoned the dishes and was too gone to answer.
It had not taken much time, but it was not a casual decision. No more than most people, Mr. Hank did not like to admit that he had been wrong. And he still was not at all sure that The Reverend could help get Maggie home safe at night. He was good, could talk up a storm, but you had to have some muscle to get sewers and bus lines. But Maggie talked sense most of the time. And there was always The Man out there on the flight line every morning. Mr. Hank had once gone out early and seen him going carrier-style landings at dawn. Maybe even at first light. Now that is trusting your engine man. Somebody like that you got to trust back even if he's white.
Mr. Hank checked the clock. Straight up six. He dialed the number.
Maggie was already asleep in the big bed that filled more than half of the tiny bedroom.
Table of Contents
- Maggie and Mr. Hank
- The Reverend
- Squalls Along the Flight Line
- Flying Home to Church
- A Visit with The Judge
- Monday Morning With The Admiral
- Into the Dining Room
- On Toward Walking the Streets
- Glimpses of An Election
- The Dream and The Reality of Violence
- The Admiral Loses More Than a Few Good Men
- Down That Lonesome Road