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me again? If I tilted my head just a little to the right,
would that eliminate the problem of his nose bumping
against mine?
If I didn't know how to manage a kiss, he sure
did. It was sweet, thrilling. But the moment I was
home all my elation was lost in the tempestuous seas
of Sarah's miseries.
That Saturday dawned a bit brighter, a little
warmer, and, eager to escape the sour hatefulness of Sarah at her worst, Tom and I went to meet Logan, and behind us tagged Our Jane and Keith. We were all good friends, trying to make Keith and Our Jane as
happy as possible.
Hardly had we reached the river where we
intended to fish when over the hills came Sarah's
bellowing hog call, beckoning us back. "Good-bye,
Logan!" I cried anxiously. "I have to get back to
Sarah; she might need me! Tom, you stay and take
care of Our Jane and Keith."
I saw Logan's disappointment before I sped
away to respond to Sarah's demand that I wash the
clothes instead of wasting my time playing around
with a no-good village boy who'd only ruin my life.
No good to love playing games and having fun when
Sarah couldn't sit comfortably or stand for longer than
seconds, and the work never ended. Feeling guilty to
have escaped for a few minutes, I lifted the washtub
onto the bench, carried hot water there from the stove,
and began scrubbing on the old rippled board.
Through the open window that tried to let out the
stench from Ole Smokey, inside the cabin I could hear
Sarah talking to Granny.
"Used t'think it were good growin up in these
