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“No, it isn’t Let me drive you home?”

“Back to Texas?”

“Is that what you want?”

“Jack, what I want doesn’t matter one whit Not even to me” She wiped her eyes, ashamed by the weakness she’d revealed

“It’s not weak, you know To feel things deeply, to want things To need”

Elsa was startled by his perceptiveness “I need to go,” she said “The kids will be out of school soon”

“Goodbye, Elsa”

She was surprised by how sad he looked when he said it Or maybe disappointed in her It was probably that “Goodbye, Jack,” she said, and walked away, left hi after her, but she didn’t look back

BY THE END OF March, the ground had dried, the ditch-bank caain, Loreda had turned fourteen, and the Martinelli family was deeply in debt Elsa did the math obsessively in her head So far, she and Loreda would have to pick three thousand pounds of cotton just to pay their debt But she still had to pay rent and buy food It was a violent, vicious cycle that would start all over again inter caet out

Still, she went out each day, looking for hile the kids were in school On good days, sheso someone’s house She and the kids ive-away clothing bins

In April, she counted down the days until she officially became a resident of the state and could qualify for relief It no longer even crossed her overnment

On the appointed day, she woke early and made flour-and-water pancakes for the kids and poured thelass of the watered-down apple juice they sold by the quart in the company store

Still sleepy eyed, the kids dressed and put on their shoes and filed out of the small cabin and headed for the bathroo line

When they returned, Elsa served them two pancakes each—doctored with a precious dollop of jam They sat on their bed, side by side

“You need to eat so, Mom,” Loreda said