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Show in my father's house/ 14 7 "So I can't play with you," Christine told me haughtily, and walked off the playground toward the teacher. I stood feeling the way I did when Danny slugged me in the stomach, staring at the quills of sunlight which bounced off the slide until I could pretend its brilliance made my eyes water. And I waited until we had spread our rugs and settled for our naps before I let tears flow down the sides of my face and puddle in my ears. The next day, I hid on the platform which my brothers had nailed in the crotch of my willow tree. Although planted before I was born, I thought of that tree as mine because I went there with my secret thoughts where I could be safe and alone. I stretched out on the warm, sweet-smelling boards and listened as my mother walked the grounds, calling for me. "Jeannie!" she trilled. "You'll be late for school!" I turned over and squinted at the sun, feeling serene. I was surrounded by soft, sweeping branches, each twig as tender as my feelings. Nothing could hurt me as long as I stayed there. But my mother found me- Or rather, I gave myself up, for her voice became desperate and I knew she thought I had drowned in the creek, as Danny nearly did. "I don't want to go to school, Mama," I wept. "Oh, darling, why not?" I couldn't tell her. It would only make her sickness worse, so I shook my head and said nothing as she pulled one of my good |
