Meanwhile, Leo was driving the Plymouth faster than was legal in residential neighborhoods, making Leslie and Sukie bounce against the back seat of the car with giggles. Juanita lost her grip on the 45 records that had been stacked around her thumb, and a few of them fell in the seat between her and her uncle. As of yet, nothing was broken and no one had come to any bodily harm, so Leo didn’t see a need to apologize. He had no doubt that Melvina was at home wondering what was taking them so long to return. All of a sudden the day seemed long enough, and he wished he could drum up a good excuse not to go to the parents meeting at Breitmeyer Elementary School. What time was it anyway? According to his watch, it was near 6:30 p.m.
“Who is Mrs. Payne?” Juanita asked while dusting a copy of Hugh Masekela’s “Grazing In The Grass” against the hem of her skirt.
“She’s my teacher at school and she got me in trouble!”
“Yeah, she weared a string on her finger to school because she talks good in class.” Sukie added, as they were passing the giant replica of a stove on display at the Michigan State Fair Grounds. Leo wore a bemused expression on his face but didn’t speak.
“You got in trouble because you talk good?---What?” Juanita didn’t understand. She twisted around so she could see her little cousins.
“I do talk good,” Leslie acknowledged Sukie’s comment. “But Mrs. Payne told Mommie I talk too much.”
“Oh.” Juanita frowned.
“She said it to my whole class, too.”
“She did? Now, why she wanna do that to my Cuz?”
“She’s mean. Mommie told me the strings on my finger could remind me not to talk so much and I pretended it was my ring but Mrs. Payne said ‘NO! that’s not your ring, Leslie, that’s because you talk too much stop interrupting other kids’....and stuff like that. She said it so my whole class could know....”
“What’s your“Cuz”?” Sukie wanted to know.
By now Leo was making a left turn from Woodward onto Manchester. The Clock Diner was on their right.
“You mean your teacher dropped a dime on you in front of your whole class? That’s cold.”
“What’s your “Cuz”?” Sukie asked, again. “Am I your “Cuz”, too?”
“....That hurted my feelings, so I don’t say many things in her class, anymore, even when I know the answers. And you know what else? Mrs.Payne says I can’t help other kids do their work.”
“That Mrs. Payne sounds like a real pip!” Juanita was looking out of the window, now. “Wait until you get to high school, like me. You’ll have seen all kinds of teachers by then.”
“My first grade teacher was nice.” Leslie offered, feeling loyal toward Mrs. Bissessi, who---unlike Mrs. Payne---had sung her students’ praises all year long through the many fits and starts of reading sounds until they became words and then sentences. Mrs. Bissessi had remained soothing and encouraging despite much crushing of pencil leads being pressed too hard against desks, and thick erasers rubbing holes in the soft green paper on which the children practiced writing alphabets.
Leo turned the radio dial to the left of the glove compartment until the Canadian radio station, CKLW, sputtered into audibility. He liked to listen to WCHB, the black-owned soul station, most of the time, but CKLW was known to mix things up a bit, so he could keep up with the latest tunes from acts such as The Doors, The Beatles, Judy Collins, Tom Jones, Steppenwolf, The Mamas and the Papas, and Cream---along with songs by Dionne Warwick, Sly & the Family Stone, Aretha Franklin, the Intruders, The Fifth Dimension, and all of the Motown groups.
“What does dropped a dime mean? Is it like a a tattle-taler?” Leslie pushed herself forward so she could rest her chin against the back of Juanita’s bucket seat. “You smell good.” she added, after getting a whiff of Jean Nate Body Splash. Leo braked heavily at the next stop sign. He turned to give Leslie a warning look to make her sit back in her seat.
