We're having us a big dinner. Dara lynn's dipping bread in her glass of cold tea, the way she likes, and Becky pushes her beans up over the edge of her plate in her rush to get 'em down.
Ma gives us her scolding look." Just once in me life" she says, " I'd like to see a bite of food go direct from the dish into somebody's mouth without detour of any kind".She's looking at me when she says it.thought. It isn't that I don't like fried rabbit. Like it fine. I just don't want to bite down on buckshot, that's all, and I'm checking each piece. "I looked thats rabbit over good, Marty and you won't find any buckshot in that thigh", Dad says, buttering his bread "I shot him in the neck" Somehow I wish he hadn't said that I pushed my meat from one side to another, through the sweet potatoes and back again. "Did it die right off? I asked knowing I can't eat it at all unless it had.