| OCR Text |
Show 31 me gone. "A fine glorious free country," said my father, "and I'd sure hate to cut down on anybody's freedom." "Especially your own." "Hers too, Pet. And the beauty-ain't beauty for everybody?" "She seems to think so." He laughed. "And the convenience-I can set my watch by her." "You can set your watch by the clock in this house. You want the time, I can give it to you." For some reason he laughed harder and Mother got huffy. When she turned from the stove, egg shells in hand, he took her by the waist. "Come on, Marie, I'm not dead yet." "You're gonna get egg all over you." She looked at me. "Aren't you washed yet? I want those girls up!" Later that morning I discovered that from the kitchen window I could see at an angle into hers, to the edge of the bed where she sat to dress, a much better view than from my bedroom. I was shocked: my father a window peeper! I was jealous too. I'd been missing her because I was not awakened for breakfast until after she'd dressed, and I grew cunning: I could get up a few minutes earlier, couldn't I? I could crouch bestially at the kitchen window, couldn't I? But how to wake up? Though cunning, my mind turned slower than the hands on the alarm clock on the sideboard. The clock! I stole it, I wrapped it in a towel, then in my shirt, added a sweater and put it under my pillow so as not to awaken Davy. I never heard it. The second night I used only the towel but forgot to pull out the alarm. The third morning, hearing the faint whisper of a ring, I flew out of bed as if the fire truck was coming. Davy shifted, snorted, settled to sleep again. |
