save some over, so itâll be handy in case she needs it.
If she could see Gideon right now, sheâd just pinch off a little sadness and moan, âPoor Gideon, bless his heart.â Then sheâd hurry up and bake him a little tin pie-pan cake. She calls it a sample cake. She never bakes a cake unless she makes a couple of samples first. She has to try out one, just in case the cake needs something. Iâve never seen her add anything to the cake batter. I think she just canât wait until the real cake is done. I love her sample cakes.
For a little while Gideon was sober. But then, that wasyesterday. Today he is waving a notice from Duke Power Company. They are going to shut off his lights. Today Gideon is as drunk as a blind cooter.
Sara Kateâs bedroom door is closed. Itâs the room she and my daddy would have slept in. I stand outside for a few minutes trying to think up a way to tell her about getting poison in my eye. I clean forgot to tell her at suppertime. Iâm only planning to tell her now because, now that I think about it, itâs my good eye that got the poison in it.
I doubt if Sara Kate knows I donât see all that good out of one of my eyes as it is. That is, when I donât wear my eyeglasses. I hardly ever wear them. My glasses are hidden in Gatenâs bottom desk drawer. I never could stand to wear the things. Like I told Gaten, âOne eye will see enough of everything I need to see.â
I cannot believe Gaten would have told Sara Kate about my eye. I imagine, like me, he would have thought it was something she didnât necessarily need to know.
When I finally knock on Sara Kateâs door, there is no answer. I guess I did knock kind of soft. But I donât go around knocking on peopleâs doors that much.
Gaten closed his bedroom door if he was getting dressed or something. Iâm almost sure he didnât close it when he was ready to go to sleep. I kind of think he left it open sohe could hear me if I was having a bad dream or something. He also had to know that ever since Grandpa died, Iâve been a little scared at night.
I knock again and again. In my heart I know I am knocking too softly and I know why. I really donât want her to hear me. As sure as shooting, if I tell her about my eye, sheâll rush me off to the hospital. Besides, my eye had stopped burning anyway. Even so, I still splashed cold water into it until I couldnât stand it anymore.
The first thing Everleen wants to know the next day is how Sara Kateâs dinner turned out. I say it was awful, that the grits were plain nasty. âThatâs not nice to say, Clover,â she fussed. I can tell sheâs glad I didnât say it was all that good. I can tell you, she wants to be tops in the cooking department.
âYou and Daniel, get outta the sun before you have a heat stroke, Clover,â she warned us. âAnytime you have them old cicadas singing so strong this early in the day, you know itâs gonna be a scorcher. They said on the evening news last night this is the hottest, driest summer we ever had in South Carolina . . .
âYou know itâs got to be bad here, when we make the big-time news . . . thank the Lord all them Northerners are trucking down hay, âcause if it gets any worse . . .â
I move into the shade. Daniel and his daddy go to buy fuel oil. Theyâre tired of listening to Everleen.
I think about Sara Kate. All alone in our quiet house. Thinking her quiet thoughts, writing quiet words. Daniel wants me to sneak out some of that writing. He thinks it might be stuff about us.
Once or twice I started into Sara Kateâs room to slip the papers sheâd written out. Each time something inside me stopped me. Maybe it was the hand of an angel. My grandpa used to pray for the angels to watch over me. I believe in angels.
Iâve known for a long time to never, ever mess with Sara Kateâs drawings. Once
If she could see Gideon right now, sheâd just pinch off a little sadness and moan, âPoor Gideon, bless his heart.â Then sheâd hurry up and bake him a little tin pie-pan cake. She calls it a sample cake. She never bakes a cake unless she makes a couple of samples first. She has to try out one, just in case the cake needs something. Iâve never seen her add anything to the cake batter. I think she just canât wait until the real cake is done. I love her sample cakes.
For a little while Gideon was sober. But then, that wasyesterday. Today he is waving a notice from Duke Power Company. They are going to shut off his lights. Today Gideon is as drunk as a blind cooter.
Sara Kateâs bedroom door is closed. Itâs the room she and my daddy would have slept in. I stand outside for a few minutes trying to think up a way to tell her about getting poison in my eye. I clean forgot to tell her at suppertime. Iâm only planning to tell her now because, now that I think about it, itâs my good eye that got the poison in it.
I doubt if Sara Kate knows I donât see all that good out of one of my eyes as it is. That is, when I donât wear my eyeglasses. I hardly ever wear them. My glasses are hidden in Gatenâs bottom desk drawer. I never could stand to wear the things. Like I told Gaten, âOne eye will see enough of everything I need to see.â
I cannot believe Gaten would have told Sara Kate about my eye. I imagine, like me, he would have thought it was something she didnât necessarily need to know.
When I finally knock on Sara Kateâs door, there is no answer. I guess I did knock kind of soft. But I donât go around knocking on peopleâs doors that much.
Gaten closed his bedroom door if he was getting dressed or something. Iâm almost sure he didnât close it when he was ready to go to sleep. I kind of think he left it open sohe could hear me if I was having a bad dream or something. He also had to know that ever since Grandpa died, Iâve been a little scared at night.
I knock again and again. In my heart I know I am knocking too softly and I know why. I really donât want her to hear me. As sure as shooting, if I tell her about my eye, sheâll rush me off to the hospital. Besides, my eye had stopped burning anyway. Even so, I still splashed cold water into it until I couldnât stand it anymore.
The first thing Everleen wants to know the next day is how Sara Kateâs dinner turned out. I say it was awful, that the grits were plain nasty. âThatâs not nice to say, Clover,â she fussed. I can tell sheâs glad I didnât say it was all that good. I can tell you, she wants to be tops in the cooking department.
âYou and Daniel, get outta the sun before you have a heat stroke, Clover,â she warned us. âAnytime you have them old cicadas singing so strong this early in the day, you know itâs gonna be a scorcher. They said on the evening news last night this is the hottest, driest summer we ever had in South Carolina . . .
âYou know itâs got to be bad here, when we make the big-time news . . . thank the Lord all them Northerners are trucking down hay, âcause if it gets any worse . . .â
I move into the shade. Daniel and his daddy go to buy fuel oil. Theyâre tired of listening to Everleen.
I think about Sara Kate. All alone in our quiet house. Thinking her quiet thoughts, writing quiet words. Daniel wants me to sneak out some of that writing. He thinks it might be stuff about us.
Once or twice I started into Sara Kateâs room to slip the papers sheâd written out. Each time something inside me stopped me. Maybe it was the hand of an angel. My grandpa used to pray for the angels to watch over me. I believe in angels.
Iâve known for a long time to never, ever mess with Sara Kateâs drawings. Once
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