OCR Text |
Show 45 Chua lugged the empty water jar up the steep canyon trail to the mesa. He tried to balance the jar on his head. Every time he let go, the jar fell. It took him a long time to cross the mesa. He was used to running everywhere he went, but he couldn't with the jar. He wanted to help his mother, and himself, by getting the water. But he hated doing it. He hated being alone. He hated not having a father. There was that second heart again. ( some creosote bushes as he climbed higher into the canyon. His father used the white ,A fuzzy berries from these bushes to prevent coughing and lessen the pain of stiff bones. During the planting season when the winter was over, the bushes were covered with tiny yellow flowers. Chua passed the chewing root bushes. The climb was more difficult now. He had to balance the jar on his head while climbing the huge boulders that the boy had driven him from yesterday. \ *p> \^^ fr^Qjft Chua wished he didn't have to do this all the time. He would let the girls carry the water and pick berries and nuts. He enjoyed planting the corn and beans and squash. A small stream of water trickled down the creek bed now. It grew stronger as Chua made his way up the narrow canyon. The cliffs drew closer together. Soon there was only enough room for him to walk between them. He could touch both walls with his hands while balancing the jar on his head. He was getting better at keeping the jar steady. He couldn't hear his father's voice today. He had to practice keeping peace a"nd£ ^'jUt Mit, but sometimes the anger was easier. Sometimes he just wanted to feel sorry for "^JJAV^ himself. Chua was close to the hills now. He began to climb the rocky wash. He noticed |