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would come to blows. Actually, I thought Grandad
would swing that machete at him. Your uncle Simon
stepped between them and just stood there like a wall,
and they stopped.
"It calmed down. They ate some dinner and
then went out to work on the grain combine. That's
where the two of them are. Simon went up to his
room. He's got a bad cold. probably from having only
cold water to bathe in and sleeping in that dank. dark
place."
"Did he get his dinner?"
"I brought it to him," she said. "Why don't you
have something to eat now, Honey?"
"I was so embarrassed. Mommy," I moaned.
"Chandler will probably have nothing to do with me
now."
"Oh, I'm sure he will," she said.
"You weren't there. It was terrible. I was never
so frightened myself."
"I know. Let me make you something to eat,"
she insisted. rising. "At least some hot soup." She put her arm around me and we went inside. After I ate a little. I picked up my violin and
began to play. More and more lately, I was finding it
helped me express my innermost feelings. The music
always revealed what was truly going on within the
caverns of my heart. I didn't play that long, but when I
gazed out my window, I saw Uncle Simon had been
sitting by his. listening. He had a light on, and he
looked different because his head was slumped. I
supposed he had fallen asleep. I waited to see if he
would wake and wave good night, but he didn't, so I
