tipped over a bottle of red nail polish while she was painting her toenails. Barely a drop spilled on the floor and I got it right up. But she pinched Jeremy’s arm, twisting the skin so it hurt him really bad. I lit into her, and before it was over, the men had to break us apart. I think I would have killed her if Carl hadn’t stopped me.
The pinch left a dark bruise on Jeremy’s arm, and that riled Carl, too. His mood went from bad to worse, so that today, when he saw me with the camera, he blew his stack.
It was an old Polaroid I found in a cabinet when I was setting a mousetrap. Quirty said I could use it to take some pictures of Jeremy. Carl’s never allowed any pictures of us, but I wanted at least one baby picture of Jeremy.
I think it was the smell that gave me away. The chemicals inside the camera make the pictures stink when you peel them off and coat them with that stuff. Carl came storming in and caught me red-handed. He grabbed the camera and banged it against the edge of the kitchen table over and over again till it broke apart.
Jeremy got scared on account of all the racket and started crying. Carl ripped up the picture I’d taken and told me never ever to take any pictures.
After the blow-up, Quirty said maybe we’d worn out our welcome.
It’s decided that we’ll pull out tomorrow. I won’t be sorry to leave this mousy house and that sneaky slut. But at least here in south FL the weather is warm. We spent all last winter in MN and I nearly froze. But I won’t complain no matter where we go, so long as Carl keeps us together.
I haven’t let myself wonder about what will happen when Jeremy is old enough to understand that we’re outlaws and don’t live like other people. I daydream about us having a normal life and being like other families. But it will never happen, so I had just as well stop daydreaming about it.
Carl’s been saying things that scare me, things like our lifestyle being hard on kids, like Jeremy will be needing to go to school in a few more years. When Carl starts talking about the future—and I know how he is once he gets an idea into his head—I get petrified that he’ll leave Jeremy behind somewhere.
I think back to Golden Branch. That horrible day. The worst day of my life so far. The labor was bad. I thought for sure I’d die of that. Then all that shooting! Lord, I was scared!
When Carl bent over me and told me that the others were dead and that he had to go right that second , I couldn’t believe he meant it. I was bleeding. Hurting something awful. But he was serious as serious can be. He said if he stayed, he’d be killed or caught. Did I want that?
The whole rest of my life was decided in that moment. Because, truth be told, I didn’t want to be killed or captured, either. Which I guess makes me the worst kind of coward, the worst kind of person.
It was cold and rainy. I remember running through those wet woods to where Carl had hid the car. I was holding Jeremy against me so tight, afraid I’d trip and fall with him, or that he’d cry and give us away. I was still sorta scared that Carl would go off and leave us if we didn’t keep up. I should count my lucky stars that he took us at all.
Even after we got away, I couldn’t stop crying over it. To this day, every time I think back on that morning, I cry buckets.
Chapter 4
P lease, Mom?”
“You can get back in after you’ve had some lunch.”
“Five more minutes?”
“After lunch.”
“One more minute?”
Placing her hands on her hips, Amelia gave six-year-old Hunter the look .
She got a very downcast “Okay” as he waded out of the surf. “We were just starting to play.”
She draped a beach towel over his shoulders and used a corner of it to dry the saltwater off his face. “Funny that I always seem to make you stop just when you’re starting to play. Race you to the umbrella?”
She took off in the direction of their camp up the beach, where Grant was already rummaging in the picnic
The pinch left a dark bruise on Jeremy’s arm, and that riled Carl, too. His mood went from bad to worse, so that today, when he saw me with the camera, he blew his stack.
It was an old Polaroid I found in a cabinet when I was setting a mousetrap. Quirty said I could use it to take some pictures of Jeremy. Carl’s never allowed any pictures of us, but I wanted at least one baby picture of Jeremy.
I think it was the smell that gave me away. The chemicals inside the camera make the pictures stink when you peel them off and coat them with that stuff. Carl came storming in and caught me red-handed. He grabbed the camera and banged it against the edge of the kitchen table over and over again till it broke apart.
Jeremy got scared on account of all the racket and started crying. Carl ripped up the picture I’d taken and told me never ever to take any pictures.
After the blow-up, Quirty said maybe we’d worn out our welcome.
It’s decided that we’ll pull out tomorrow. I won’t be sorry to leave this mousy house and that sneaky slut. But at least here in south FL the weather is warm. We spent all last winter in MN and I nearly froze. But I won’t complain no matter where we go, so long as Carl keeps us together.
I haven’t let myself wonder about what will happen when Jeremy is old enough to understand that we’re outlaws and don’t live like other people. I daydream about us having a normal life and being like other families. But it will never happen, so I had just as well stop daydreaming about it.
Carl’s been saying things that scare me, things like our lifestyle being hard on kids, like Jeremy will be needing to go to school in a few more years. When Carl starts talking about the future—and I know how he is once he gets an idea into his head—I get petrified that he’ll leave Jeremy behind somewhere.
I think back to Golden Branch. That horrible day. The worst day of my life so far. The labor was bad. I thought for sure I’d die of that. Then all that shooting! Lord, I was scared!
When Carl bent over me and told me that the others were dead and that he had to go right that second , I couldn’t believe he meant it. I was bleeding. Hurting something awful. But he was serious as serious can be. He said if he stayed, he’d be killed or caught. Did I want that?
The whole rest of my life was decided in that moment. Because, truth be told, I didn’t want to be killed or captured, either. Which I guess makes me the worst kind of coward, the worst kind of person.
It was cold and rainy. I remember running through those wet woods to where Carl had hid the car. I was holding Jeremy against me so tight, afraid I’d trip and fall with him, or that he’d cry and give us away. I was still sorta scared that Carl would go off and leave us if we didn’t keep up. I should count my lucky stars that he took us at all.
Even after we got away, I couldn’t stop crying over it. To this day, every time I think back on that morning, I cry buckets.
Chapter 4
P lease, Mom?”
“You can get back in after you’ve had some lunch.”
“Five more minutes?”
“After lunch.”
“One more minute?”
Placing her hands on her hips, Amelia gave six-year-old Hunter the look .
She got a very downcast “Okay” as he waded out of the surf. “We were just starting to play.”
She draped a beach towel over his shoulders and used a corner of it to dry the saltwater off his face. “Funny that I always seem to make you stop just when you’re starting to play. Race you to the umbrella?”
She took off in the direction of their camp up the beach, where Grant was already rummaging in the picnic
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