I crunched down the road, Jerry's old boots slapping against themselves and blisters forming against my toes. I was wearing his worn-out woolen socks and his old dirty canvas jacket, but I was still cold. His overalls were too long for me, and the flannel underneath them was too far away from my body to keep any warmth. Better than my dresses, though. At least I still had feeling in my feet.

The wind liked to play with my hat, steal it from me. I pulled it down tighter hoping that I wouldn't have to run after the damned thing. I still had a couple miles to go and Lord knows its cold without a hat.

The bag of groceries I was carrying seemed to get heavier and heavier with each step, even though there wasn't much food in it. It was just potatoes and some meat from the local butcher. We weren't eating like kings- but we were eating.

It seemed like even having a dinner was becoming more and more of a blessing, and each cigarette was like smoking gold. We couldn't afford our own tobacco plants, and we couldn't grow anything on our plot of land, anyhow. Our land was for hunters.

Mother says Father hunted with a great big long gun. She says he was a dead eye, that he could shoot a buck at 300 yards without breaking a sweat. Mother also sometimes said he was able to drink men under the table and that he smoked like a chimney, so I took whatever she knew with a grain of salt.

I think I remember Father teaching me how to shoot. I must have been young, though, because I can't remember his face, or the gun.

I shuddered into my jacket again, the wind threatening me with each step. The town we went to for supplies had to be moving farther and farther away from us, there was no way this walk had ever taken this long.

That was a stupid thing to think! How could a town move? Blanche! I scolded myself, chuckling and shaking my head.

Suddenly, a car came flying toward me, and I barely had time to jump off the road. The brakes squealed and someone shouted from inside. I clutched my bundle to me and rolled a couple times, then just laid on my side. Now, I was damned cold.

"Blanche!" I heard a voice call, coming right towards me.

"Here!" I yelled, sitting up.

"There you are!" I recognized that build and that big, ugly hat. Howard Bondurant.

I glared up at him and stood up.

"You hurt, Blanche? Your brother kick my ass if you hurt! I kinda like my ass, wanna keep it." Howard reached his hand out to me, and then pulled me up next to him.

"You're a real moron sometimes, Howard." I said, brushing him off and turning to leave.

"Hey! How about you don't tell Jerry, and I'll give you a ride home!" Howard said.

I don't know why he was afraid of Jerry, Jerry wasn't bigger, meaner, or tougher than him. I suppose that it was the men Jerry worked with, all those fancy suits with big guns from Chicago and New York. But Howard wouldn't get hurt over me, that was just absurd.

"I can walk." I took a couple steps and then stumbled. My ankle was throbbing pretty good, and I could see it was swollen up. Damn, damn, double damn.

"See, you are hurt! Come on, get in the automobile. I'll have you home in two shakes of a lamb's tail."

I sighed and turned toward his car. No point fighting, Howard would just be a thorn on my side as long as I refused him.

He opened the passenger's door for me, and then, without asking, gently lifted me into the seat, pushing on my thigh and then shutting the door. I watched him run around the car, climb in, restart the engine, and drive.

I wasn't the type to talk to people willy-nilly, and Howard Bondurant had no similarities with me. I was perfectly content to sit in silence and plan out how to tell Mother I wasn't going to walk into town anymore.

Howard, on the other hand, kept on babbling. About everything. I couldn't tune him out, either, because he'd ask me over and over again if I'd got that. It was exhausting listening to him. And he twisted my ankle. Howard and I would probably only ever be business associates.

I pulled out my rolled cigarette tin and took one out, and then Howard stuck his hand out to me.

"If you're gonna smoke, I am too." He said, waggling his fingers.

I rolled my eyes and handed him a cigarette. He lit it and took a deep drag. I did the same. He stopped talking for a while after that, and then we reached my house.

I gathered up my bag and pushed on the door, but Howard had already bounded around and opened it for me. He held his hand out and assisted me down. I limped with him up to my house, and then turned to thank him.

"Look, I'm really sorry I almost ran you over." Howard removed his hat and slapped it against his thigh. "And I'm sorry for acting like an idiot in the car."

"It's fine. Thanks for the ride." I pulled open the door and limped inside, then shut it.

I didn't hear Howard walk away for another few minutes, but I did hear him packing and slapping his hat.