being with little May and appreciated that she
sincerely welcomed me. That was the only ray of
sunshine in this gloomy world of sadness.
Impulsively, I picked up my fiddle and played a
mournful tune. It was the mood I felt and the music
came from deep within me. I closed my eyes and
pictured Daddy sitting on the sofa in our trailer living
room, a small smile on his face, his eyes full of pride
as I playe
d. Afterward, he would pull me to him and
give me one of his bear hugs, smothering my cheek
and forehead with kisses.
Suddenly, there was a loud rapping on the wall.
"Stop that noise!" Uncle Jacob ordered. "It's time for
everyone to sleep!"
My memories of Daddy popped like soap
bubbles. I put away the fiddle and crawled under the comforter. Then I turned down the oil lamp, closed my eyes, and listened to the roar of the ocean. The house was very quiet for a few moments, and then I heard what I recognized as the distinct sound of
someone sobbing.
"Just go to sleep!" Uncle Jacob commanded
gruffly, his voice seemingly coming out of the walls. The sobbing stopped.
The ocean came roaring through my window
again, the same ocean that had taken Laura from this
house and the melancholy world in which I now found
myself.
Following Aunt Sara's instructions the next
morning, I made lunches for both Cary and myself. It
was something Laura always had done and I assumed
it was to be one of my chores. We were to have a
sandwich and an apple, and we were given fifty cents
to buy a drink. May's lunch was provided for her at