Some memory when we were young and Dad had fewer bottles: fill the washtub with hot water from the wood stove, temper — yes I knew that word and man... others — the hot water with cold water from the pump. Take the bath together, Cindy and I. Eight, we were just kids. Twelve, we were boy and girl... but still just kids.Sixteen, the year Dad left forever — though it was two years before Cindy and I agreed that he was really gone forever — Cindy was embarrassed and turned away while she washed. I. I had never been at someone’s mercy like this before, and I had no idea how to get free. I tried to speak, but the force had pushed the breath from my body, and all I could manage were little gasping sounds. The woman- Deborah had called her ‘Tamara’- stepped closer and looked me over, momentarily silent but radiating slight disapproval…but strangely enough, only slight. Finally she sniffed. ‘Disappointing. So much ability. Still, you’re just a kid. You can be trained. Or at least punished.’. More

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