The Unsung Hero of Birdsong, USA: Chapters 1–9

That she'd take more than a few pictures of me posed and smiling with my new bicycle was a sure thing, and that would make it a cinch for me to remember this day for the rest of my life.

The red-faced butcher from DeVear's grocery store slipped his arms around me and practically carried me over to the curb. The gawking audience trailed us, questions flying from their mouths.

And then, I guess because most people could see I wasn't mangled and others couldn't wait to go wag their tongues about my brush with death, the crowd began to vanish until there were only three left: Mr. Summerlin, Mrs. Babcock, and Miss Felicity Duval, who plays the organ at church and gives piano lessons for a dime out of her house.

My assumption that someone had squealed and filled Mama and Daddy's ears with news of my mishap was now a crystal-clear certainty.

My assumption that someone had squealed and filled Mama and Daddy's ears with news of my mishap was now a crystal-clear certainty.

"Swanky cycle, Gabriel," Tink commented.
"Yeah, it's really swell, and boy, does it fly," I told her.

"Tink! How can you be so crass?" Cousin Polly hollered.
"Jeepers creepers! It was just a joke," she replied.

"Thank you, The-o-dora."
Tink sneered, "Rub it in deep, why don't you?"

The look in his eyes gave me a clue about what was coming. And from what I surmised, the bicycle might not be part of my future.

More and more, since a girl named Helene from New York City had moved in next door to Tink and become her best friend, Tink had started using what Daddy refers to as modern lingo.

Of course, Tink had snapped a picture of the sign, and when I asked her why, she'd told me she was preserving history. "Because according to Helene's father, who is a professor of American history, whites and coloreds won't be segregated in the South someday, and all these things he calls Jim Crow signs will be gone."

"Yeah—yell and fuss...get stinkin' mad at you. And probably take the bike away."
"I spoze they will," I answered solemnly. "Can you get a bunch of pictures of me on it?"

"Sure thing, cousin. Plus, it's all good practice for when I get hired at Life magazine or National Geographic. Only then I'll be off taking pics of faraway places or indigenous people."

I inquired as she posed me. "The people who were in a country first, like the Indians were here. Or the Maya in Mexico and the Aborigines in Australia. I'm already making a portfolio of my best photographs. As soon as I graduate high school, I, Tink Waldrop, am gonna blow this place called South Carolina and travel the world. And that's not just me flappin' my lips. I'm really gonna amscray."

I inquired as she posed me. "The people who were in a country first, like the Indians were here. Or the Maya in Mexico and the Aborigines in Australia. I'm already making a portfolio of my best photographs. As soon as I graduate high school, I, Tink Waldrop, am gonna blow this place called South Carolina and travel the world. And that's not just me flappin' my lips. I'm really gonna amscray."

"...Make 'em feel sorry for you. It's a good formula but not foolproof, meanin' there's a chance it won't work."

Whenever I faltered on my invisible high wire by kidding around, a warning glare from Tink was all it took to keep me from falling.

The tasting-good part was how Cousin Polly and Them usually make me feel—same as beams of sunshine sneaking through clouds on a rainy day. And the stretched-out part was the way the minutes were pretending to be hours, until I finally figured this was only because I was anticipating the verdict about the bicycle that would be given at the end of the day.

The tasting-good part was how Cousin Polly and Them usually make me feel—same as beams of sunshine sneaking through clouds on a rainy day. And the stretched-out part was the way the minutes were pretending to be hours, until I finally figured this was only because I was anticipating the verdict about the bicycle that would be given at the end of the day.

"Her name's Helene, not Helen-with-an-E, and not only is she intelligent and enlightened, but she's also a gas," Tink told us.

She cleared her throat twice and asked me, "Gabriel, were you aware that to have been saved the way you were today means you likely have a special destiny?"

"I've heard tell that when someone saves your life, a special bond is created 'tween you and it's likely you'll be indebted to him."

"I am doubtful that he just happened to be there, Agatha. This was certainly divine intervention."

Auntie Rita patted her hand. "I am doubtful that he just happened to be there, Agatha. This was certainly divine intervention."

But Auntie Rita, who usually doesn't miss a thing, caught a glimpse of Polly's shenanigans and slyly remarked, "Well, bless your heart, Polly Waldrop, ain't you precious."

"I'm fixin' to delve into somethin' of spiritual importance. Is that all right with you, dear?"

But this time she peered for so long that I got fidgety, because it seemed like she was tinkering around inside my thoughts.

"Sure," Dad replied in a nonchalant way. "Happy birthday, son. G'night."

"His name's Meriwether...like Meriwether Lewis, who led the Lewis and Clark expedition," I rambled, trying to impress him with how smart I was.

Mr. Meriwether wasn't sitting or standing anywhere in town as far as we could see, so we made a beeline to Mr. Summerlin's place.