The Dry Grass of August (2011)
“When I got to our cabin, she was straightening it, putting dirty clothes in a pillowcase. I wished I could be that way. “Where’s Puddin?” I asked.
“I don’t know.” Stell’s eyes were swollen. She hadn’t combed her hair or washed her face, so unlike her.
“Does she know about Mary?”
Stell shrugged.
I ran outside, saw a speck of pink through the trees. Puddin’s favorite T-shirt. She sat in a carpet of pine needles beside the outhouse, staring into the distance.
“Puddin?”
“Nobody told me.” She scratc...hed her knee. “Is she dead?”
I dropped down beside her, trying not to breathe in the odor coming from the outhouse.
“She must be dead or she’d come home,” Puddin said.
I put my arms around her, held her. We walked together back to our cabin.
Stell and Mama took the kids to lunch. I wasn’t hungry and Mama didn’t insist. I put on my bathing suit and went out into the hot noon sun. The concrete apron at the pool burned my feet. I dove in and breaststroked to the far wall before I came up.MoreLess
“I don’t know.” Stell’s eyes were swollen. She hadn’t combed her hair or washed her face, so unlike her.
“Does she know about Mary?”
Stell shrugged.
I ran outside, saw a speck of pink through the trees. Puddin’s favorite T-shirt. She sat in a carpet of pine needles beside the outhouse, staring into the distance.
“Puddin?”
“Nobody told me.” She scratc...hed her knee. “Is she dead?”
I dropped down beside her, trying not to breathe in the odor coming from the outhouse.
“She must be dead or she’d come home,” Puddin said.
I put my arms around her, held her. We walked together back to our cabin.
Stell and Mama took the kids to lunch. I wasn’t hungry and Mama didn’t insist. I put on my bathing suit and went out into the hot noon sun. The concrete apron at the pool burned my feet. I dove in and breaststroked to the far wall before I came up.MoreLess
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