It had been ten years. Ten years since the day T.J. had been arrested for a murder he had not committed directly. Cassie stared sullenly out of the window pane that was coated with a fine mist of rain drops. She was 19 now, and studying to be a teacher like her mother before her. She sighed, remembering the day her mother had been fired by Harlan Granger and the school board. It had been seven years before she had found a teaching job again. She had taken it shortly after Big Ma's death to help take her mind off the pain the family was facing. Still there was hope though. Stacey was returning home from World War II. The entire family had been very proud when he had joined the service, though he received little recognition, being in a segregated unit. Cassie often thought of him, and was always pleased when the rare letters arrived.

"Cassie? You okay, girl?" asked Uncle Hammer.

"Hmmm? Yes, I'm fine sir," she said. She had been living with Uncle Hammer in North Carolina where her college was. She was very thankful for the fact that her uncle had been so generous as to pay for part of her tuition and had given her lodgings as well.

"So, how's your schooling?"

"I'm doing very well. I've learned a lot in the past two years," she answered. It had been hard to learn to leave her Southern dialect behind, but after two years she had finally managed it. "I have an evaluation tomorrow," she said, more to herself than to Uncle Hammer.

"Is that so?" asked Uncle Hammer, raising his eyebrows. "Do you think you'll do well?"

"I hope so…" Cassie fidgeted slightly in her seat by the window. She was quite nervous about the test she was taking tomorrow.

Uncle Hammer, perhaps sensing her concern, said, "Well, you better get some rest then."

Cassie dipped her head respectfully and climbed the stairs to the attic where her bedroom was. Uncle Hammer rented his house out to poor blacks who had nowhere to stay. Originally, the entire house had been his, but since times were lean because of the war, he had been forced to rent out part of it. Cassie, of course, was allowed to stay for free.

The stairs creaked, adding to the ominous sounds of the storm overhead. The wind whipped the trees around, sending the branches reeling into the side of the house causing weird shadows and odd scratching noises. Being in the attic made it especially bad; the thunder howled like a monstrous wolf, and the icy claws of the wind raked at everything in its path. The higher up you were, the closer you were to the beast.

Cassie snuggled into her bed, wrapping herself in the homemade quilt Big Ma and she used to sleep under so long ago. She remembered all of the times she had sneaked out of bed, once to look for the night men, another time to help the futile quest to get T.J. home safe and sound. Cassie had never liked T.J., but she had cried herself to sleep every night for a month after his arrest. If nothing else, it was simply the injustice of it. She finally fell into a troubled sleep, dreaming of all of those things that had happened long ago.

The next day, Uncle Hammer drove Cassie to Bennett College. Cassie was glad that Uncle Hammer lived near one of the few schools that admitted people like her. The teaching college that her mother had gone to had closed, so Cassie had searched far and wide to find a college that would admit her. She thanked Uncle Hammer and hurried to her classes. After struggling with the difficult test she had been dreading the night before, she gathered up her books and made her way out the door. She was late getting out; her professor had let her stay a few extra minutes to finish the test. A pair of voices caught her attention in the hallway.

"….war has left many colleges in financial ruin. We're not doing very well ourselves!"

"Times are tough for everyone, Sue. We'll get through."

"I suppose you haven't looked at the new budget yet. I just hope we have enough money to let the seniors graduate. It would be terrible if we had to close, just before they get their degrees…"

"Have you thought of raising the tuition fees?"

"Yes, but many of our students can't afford to pay any extra money. I really don't know what we're going to do…"

Cassie was overwhelmed with a wave of sickening anxiety. It reminded her of the time when she had stood near Mama's classroom back home, listening to Miss Crocker and Mama's conversation. The situation wasn't exactly as dire as hers was now, but it held certain similarities. She really hadn't changed all that much had she? Maybe, she could find a way out of this – she needed to graduate and teach to help support the family's bills and she knew many other students in her class had similar wishes. Cassie bit her lip and thought. She had found a way to solve the Lillian Jean problem when she was just 9 years old! She'd have to be just as clever as she was then….

* * *

"Hello, Walt," said Cassie sweetly. She was standing outside of her friend's door. If anyone could help her with her problem, it was Walt.

"Hey Cass," said Walt stepping outside of his door and sitting on his front porch swing. Walt was the only one who could have gotten away with calling her "Cass".

"How have you been?" asked Cassie. It had been a long time since she had seen Walt. She had met him when she had first come to North Carolina. Like her, he had been interested in going to a college so that he could become a teacher. They had looked around at various colleges together for almost a year, until they each found one that suited their personal needs. They had lost touch after that, save for a few occasional letters. Cassie knew from reading them that Walt had graduated two years earlier than she would. He had been looking for a college to transfer to, while she had been looking for the first time. Now he was a professor of liberal arts at an all black university, but she didn't know much more than that.

"There are a lot of colleges that aren't doing so well around here," said Walt with a sigh. "I suppose that's why you're here?"

Cassie nodded. "I – I wanted to ask you if…if my college closes, if you'd give me a position at your school."

Walt let out a long sigh. "Cass, you realize the position you're putting me in? The university I teach at only accepts male students."

"I know," said Cassie, "but if you could just try…"

"You know the way of things," said Walt sharply. "There are hardly any colleges around here that will accept black students at all, and even fewer that will accept women. It's an unjust stereotype that will just continue. And one person can't change that. I wish it were different but…."

"It doesn't have to be that way," said Cassie, staring at the folds in her dress.

"What can we do then, huh?" asked Walt.

"We could try something," said Cassie. "When I was just 9 years old, white men burnt a black family in my town. They killed a man for no reason and mutilated another beyond description. My family could have just said it was none of their business and not have gotten involved. But they didn't. They decided to boycott the store those same white men owned. They wanted to make a difference. They rallied many neighboring sharecropping families together, giving them credit to an honest store in another town, backed by a lone white lawyer who wanted to make a difference. It – it didn't work in the end, but they tried. They tried. You could say they failed in what they did, but I know they didn't. Failing is when you don't try at all and you give up and leave things the way they are." Cassie's voice was sharp and clear, but she spoke slowly and deliberately, like her father always did. Cassie was surprised to hear herself like this – normally she lost control of her temper. Yet she was proud that she could hold herself with such dignity.

"I guess we could do something," said Walt slowly after awhile. "Maybe we could raise money to help fund the college."

"We could start by raising money, or by just spreading the word to other people."

"Either way we would be trying," pointed out Walt.

"Yes, we would be," murmured Cassie. What had started out as a selfish desire to graduate was turning into something that would help many more people like her, Cassie thought with satisfaction. It wasn't just about her and her family anymore. It was about others. It was the same philosophy her family had had when they had decided to boycott the Wallace Store. The same philosophy Stacey had had when he had enlisted in the army. And now it was her philosophy too. She only hoped that the now teenage Christopher-John and Little Man would follow in the family's footsteps. She had a feeling they would. She now realized why her family had attempted what they knew was a futile attempt against racism and prejudice. They had wanted to inspire their children to do something similar in a time when it could make a difference. Cassie wasn't sure if it was that time yet, but that didn't matter. The only thing that mattered was that enough people got the message that things in society weren't okay and that they could be changed when the right time came along. Cassie was sure she saw a ray of sunshine poking through the gray, cloudy sky.