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Show Blue Run/27 4. Josephine For a long time I didn't tell Joey about his daddy, though the thought never left me alone, not with the way his hair waived back over his forehead and those green-blue eyes, and the way he held himself, even when he was just a little boy and I'd see him peddling the yellow tricycle. I'd see the handlebar streamers and he'd smile at me and it would break my heart all over again. Dee went easy on me with Joey around, an angel, first grandson right there in her own apartment. For a while, we had peace. Buddy threatened to drive out and take Joey back. And that's exactly what he tried-once. I stayed home days then, and what else was there to do? Joey's got this tangential imagination, he was never bored, never without this strong link to some other world or plane or something. That's how it seemed. He was never a problem, but the boredom, the tedium, the sitting in the hot, hot front room that always smelled like burned coffee and pinto beans, all those sad, silly soap operas I started painting birds. A few weeks into July, I talked Dee into buying a short list from the art supply: water colors, |