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Mom frowned, tucked her chin in “What does Mr Valen have to do with this?”

“I’ scares him”

“I’ve said all I’ away from union Communists”

THIRTY-ONE

On Thursday, after ten hours of picking cotton, Loreda’s entire body hurt, and toain

For ten percent less in wages

Ninety cents for a hundred pounds of picked cotton Eighty cents if you counted the cut taken by the crooks at the company store

She thought about it endlessly, obsessively; the injustice of it gnawed at her

Just as she thought about the

And her mother’s fear

Loreda understood the fear more than her mother suspected How could Loreda not understand it? She’d lived through the winter in California, been flooded out, lost everything, survived on barely any food, worn shoes that didn’t fit She kne it felt to go to bed hungry and wake up hungry, how you could try to trick your stomach ater but it never lasted She saw her le hot dog into three portions She knew Moretted every penny she added to their debt at the store

The difference between Loreda and her mother wasn’t fear—they shared that It was fire Her one out Or enuine anger froht they’d buried the Deweys’ baby

Loreda wanted to be angry What had Jack said to her the first day they met? You have fire in you, kid Don’t let the bastards snuff it out So like that

Loreda didn’t want to be the kind of woman who suffered in silence

Refused to be