Name: As Fast As Words Could Fly read by Dulé Hill
Uploaded: 2017-02-03T04:05:25.000Z
Duration: 16 min 23 s
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I'm Dulé Hill and today I'm going to read

As Fast As Words Could Fly written by Pamela M. Tuck

Trouble was brewing in Greenville, North Carolina.

By five o’clock, fourteen-year-old Mason Steele

Pa would be home from his meeting soon,  bringing a new problem.

He didn’t mind, though,  because helping Pa’s civil rights group

“Where’s Mason?” Pa asked as he scanned the kitchen.

“Willis, the boy’s doing his lessons.” Ma sighed.

“I need him to write another letter for me. Ma-s-o-n-n-n!”

He hurried into the room with paper and a pencil.

“Whittaker’s Restaurant refused to serve Matt Duncan’s boys,” Pa explained.

Mason took notes while Pa rambled on  about what had happened.

Only Mason could make sense out of what Pa said.

Later, Mason turned his notes into a business letter.

“This sounds good enough to send to  President Lyndon B. Johnson himself,”

Pa boasted after he read Mason’s letter.

One evening, after the screen door banged shut,

Instead, he heard Ma and Pa talking quietly.

When Mason finally entered the kitchen,  he could hardly believe his eyes.

“Yep,” Pa said. “The group wanted to give it to you.

Said you been quite a little lawyer for us.

Figured a typewriter might help you someday.”

Each row looked like little steps climbing up.

“I’ll type the civil rights group a thank-you letter.”

“That’ll be the right thing to do,” Ma agreed.

During the summer, Mason and his two older brothers, Willis Jr. and Henry,

picked tobacco with a few of the white boys who lived nearby.

Patrick and Daniel Jones were the only two who acted friendly.

They often raced against Mason and his brothers

In the evenings, Mason was weary from the day’s work,

but that didn’t stop him from practicing his typing.

Using his index fingers to pick out the keys,

he learned where every letter and symbol  was located on the typewriter.

Before he knew it, Mason started his first year of high school.

After the third week, Pa called him and his brothers into the kitchen one evening.

“Boys, I got some real important news for you,” he began.

“We just won a case we’ve been fighting for a long time.

It ain’t right for y’all to be bused twelve miles  to Bethel Union High School

when Belvoir High ain’t but three miles away.”

“P-P-Pa, you, you know them white folks ain’t gonna like us going to their school not one bit,”

“Like it or not, y’all’s going,” Pa replied.

The boys stared at one another in disbelief.

“The bus’ll be here early Monday morning, so be ready,”

Pa said as he got up from the table and left the room.

Monday morning, Mason and his brothers were nervous.

They watched the school bus come roaring up the road.

just enough for the boys to see the white students on the bus laughing at them.

Then he sped up, blowing dust in the boys’ faces.

“They just don’t want us on their bus,” Willis Jr. said.

“I don’t want to ride their bus noways,” Mason added.

When they told Pa the driver hadn’t stopped for them, he was furious.

“Move it! I ain’t got all day,” the driver yelled.

The boys stumbled over one another as they hustled down the aisle.

Henry spotted a familiar face. “Hey, Patrick,” he said.

Patrick didn’t answer. He just looked straight ahead.

“You Steele boys are asking for trouble,” Daniel whispered.

The sudden motion threw the boys into their seats.

the principal, Mr. Bullock, barricaded the doorway.

“Report to class after the bell rings,” he snapped,

“How will we know where to go?” Willis Jr. asked.

“You found a way to get in here, so find your way around.”

Mr. Bullock turned and stormed into the building.

By the time Mason located the right room,  the class had already started.

Cold stares and grimaces greeted him when he entered.

Mason knew which seat was his: the one in the back corner.

Against the odds, Mason did well in school.

but he paid strict attention when she helped others.

At home, Mason practiced what he had learned.