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Show PEPPERMINT MONDAY Chapter 1: South of the Dogwood Tree The Ozarks in early spring are something to see. New colors awake and paint the rolling countryside in simple freshness. It's a freshness city folks haven't seen much. Pa says "people that live in the Ozarks are closer to God than otherjT. He says you can jusf'breathe the morning air, listen to a whippoorwill twitter, and smell a patch of wild geraniums" to know. I've always wanted to believe him, but I'm not so sure. If we are closer to God, he'd look after Russ better. As it is, Russ gets weaker almost daily, and I can tell each time I watch ma tuck him in at night, that's she's worried. Her usually bright eyes, the color of Missouri skies, mist over and she cries invisible tears. Even though I'm almost fifteen, I cry sometimes too. Most of the time it's because I'm sorry for Russ, but sometimes it's over my own problems. Problems like braces instead of pretty, straight teeth like Andrea Carson has, and curly red hair that doesn't comb like Renae Todd's pale yellow, silky hair, but my problems seem small compared to Russ'. Russ was as healthy as Jason and me when he was born. I remember the day ma brought him home from the hospital j all pink and withered and always crying like new babies do. • We all thought he was wonderful and as strong as old Jake's mules. I was seven then, and I used to help feed him, bathe him, and smooth the sprinkles of white powder over his small, wiggly body. Gainesville, Missouri, by anybody's standards, is not much more than |
