OCR Text |
Show -22- Peppermint Monday against it when it didn't open. We found a small window in the back that was covered with an animal hide, so we were able to squeeze in. Jason went first, he was younger, but he was also the boy and had to act tough. The window wouldn't have been big enough for anyone fatter than me. Andrea would've never made it. I had trouble slithering through as it was. "It's awful dark," Jason's voice came from my left, but my eyes hadn't adjusted to the change and I couldn't make out much more than his outline. I lifted the heavy skin on the window up, and pushing it to one side, slid an old chair on top of it so it wouldn't drop back, blocking out the little light we had. Enough light came through for us to see our way to the door. Jason unbolted it, letting it swing open, flooding the place with noon light. I immediately saw the muzzle-loader positioned above the door, waiting for intruders like us. The room was small, smaller than ma's bedroom. It had a wood-burning stove in one corner, the only visible means for cooking and warmth. Next to it was a wood box, filled to the top with a generous supply of wood. A coffee pot was off to the side, with no other pots or pans in sight. The bed was small, too small for old Jake to stretch out on. It was covered with a dull brown blanket, but it was made neatly. Jason never makes his own bed, and we're not hill people. There was an old table, roughly crude in its design. I guessed Jake had made it and the lone chair tucked under it. There was also a cupboard along one wall, nailed to the studs of the house. I opened it, determined to find the whiskey bottles, but all I found was several pans, two mugs, a large and smaller plate, and some odds and ends - mixing bowls, utensils, a can opener, and such. There were a few rows of canned goods, mostly |