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“You mean poor kids,” I corrected.
“Yeah. Purr kids,” said Brenda. “Let’s go.” She ran into the kitchen and out the back door with Arnold just behind. I hurried after, bringing Butcher along with me.
Playing purr kids, I soon discovered, consisted mostly of wandering around the woods in Katydid City Park, while Brenda explained how we’d got into this horrible predicament: We were a family. Our mother had been run over by a train and our father was a drunk. I was the oldest sister, but I was retarded, so Brenda, the next oldest, had to make all the decisions. Arnold was the protector, so he carried a stick. Butcher just followed along behind, looking bored. Brenda and Arnold spent a lot of time telling him to pretend right.
“Now, it’s nightfall,” said Brenda after a while. “We’ll have to make camp.” She picked a spot on the path underneath a big tree, where not much grass was growing.
“I’m not lying down in the dirt,” said Butcher.
“You do what you’re told,” said Brenda sharply.
“Yeah,” said Arnold, waving the stick around.
“Now, now, let’s be nice,” I said.
Brenda and Arnold sat cross-legged in the dirt. I found a little clump of grass and sat on that.
“I’m not getting my blue jeans dirty,” said Butcher.
“What a baby,” said Arnold.
“You’re a brat,” said Brenda.
“Now, now,” I said. “Let’s get on with pretending.”
“How can we pretend when he won’t sit down?” asked Brenda.
“Let’s pretend he’s got a bad leg and can’t sit,” I suggested.
“That’s stupid,” said Brenda.
“Really stupid,” agreed Arnold.
Brenda went on with her explaining: We were going to starve unless we could grow a garden. We’d grow carrots and peas and lettuce and take turns staying up all night to make sure animals or drifters didn’t steal anything. Arnold started rooting around in the dirt with his stick, making holes to plant the seeds in. Butcher came over and stood by me.
After a while, the noon whistle blew down at the KTD. Arnold leaped up. “Noon,” he yelped. “Time for Noontime Adventures.”
“Arnold, I’m not finished,” said Brenda.
Arnold was torn, but he sat down again.
“And so, if we have a big harvest, we’ll have a day of thanksgiving,” Brenda went on. “And we’ll invite the Indians and the drifters. And so we’ll have corn-on-the-cob and turkeys and peas, and we’ll have a big feast, with dancing … and so … aww, let’s go,” she said, jumping up. She and Arnold ran back down the path toward the house. I walked back with Butcher.
“Do you like to watch Noontime Adventures?” I asked.
“Naaa,” he said.
I served sandwiches and Kool-Aid on TV trays in front of the television. The show was mostly cartoons. Afterward, we tried some soap operas, The Brighter Day and then The Secret Storm. I was settled on a sofa, enjoying every minute. Bunny’s TV is about the size of a toaster, and even when it works, the screen has black, squiggly lines running across it. But pretty soon Brenda and Arnold started grousing and chasing each other around the room. Then Brenda’s friend Laura Brinkman came to the front door.
“Can we go back to Laura’s house?” asked Brenda.
“I don’t think your mother would like that,” I said.
“Awww. Well, can we go out and play in the yard?”
“Of course.” I started to get up.
“I don’t want to do that,” said Butcher. He’d been the only one besides me interested in the soap operas.
