. just kids. Mother, bless her; miss her, died giving life to us. Dad was lost without her and raised us in a haphazard way — there at times, often ...ot.Early memories: Dad on the floor, asleep? No, the bottle by his hand belies the truth in that. Cindy, one hand, Lee, me, the other. Drag him, pull him. Grunting with our childish lack of strength."Push... Cindy, Pull! Get him on the bed and we can go to find food." Not an easy task.Food? Kill the rabbit. Dad, bless his soul, raised rabbits. He. Do you know how seldom she has been curt to us like that? I think I know what this is about. I will talk to her about it tomorrow morning at our oceanside talk.’‘You know?’‘A man. I think, anyway. Did you notice the new bruise on her leg?’‘Yes, did you put that there?’‘No. That’s also curious. I’ll fill you in after our talk.’That night she looked a little lost and unsure of herself, maybe even of her place. All night she had been quiet, very pensive, working through something in her own mind.. More

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