African-American writers | American novelists | Podcast
by Kathryn Schulz | January 29, 2018
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William Melvin Kelley wrote about white people thinking about black people.
Photograph by Carl Van Vechten / Carl Van Vechten Trust / Beinecke Library, Yale |
There were arrows, so we followed them. This was
one afternoon last summer; my partner and I had spent the day at our
local public library, working steadily through breakfast and lunch and
what the British would call teatime, until suddenly hunger clobbered us
both and we packed up and headed out to the car. Home was maybe four
miles away. In my mind, I was already constructing enormous sandwiches.
The arrows appeared two miles in, lining the side of the road where,
that morning, there had been nothing but marsh grass. They were
shin-high, wordless, red on a white background, pointing away from the
sandwiches. My partner, who is usually more hungry than I am but always
more curious, swung the car into the other lane and began to follow
them.
The arrows led down a state highway,
across an interchange, onto a smaller road, past a barn and some grain
silos, then along one of the Chesapeake Bay’s countless tributaries. A
sign warned us that we were in a flood zone. My partner, who grew up one
county over, remembered the place from childhood—at seven or eight,
she’d had a memorable encounter in the area with a trailer full of
cockatiels—but she hadn’t been there since. The arrows ended at a large
gray shed with a red roof. A spray-painted sign indicated that it was
open twice a month, on Saturdays, in the summer only. We parked across
the street, next to a boat, and headed for the door.
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