Daniel was at the top of loft, looking down thru the opening, as we all watched from below.

Guthrie jokingly went to grab a scoop shovel, holding it up.

"This is so we can scrape ya off the floor," Guthrie said, with a wide grin up at Daniel.

Everybody laughed, even Daniel. Well, except Jill.

"Might be the truth," Daniel said.

Jill was standing under the loft opening, looking upwards.

"Maybe you'd better not," she said.

"He'll be okay," Ford told her, and she stepped back with the rest of us.

Daniel did his thing, his trick, where he jumped out, feet first, and then, nearly at the floor, propelled himself into

a somersault, and then relanded on his feet, out of the pile of hay.

Guthrie gave a whistle, as the rest of us started clapping.

"You can still do it," Guthrie said, patting Daniel on the shoulder.

"How did you ever learn to do that?" Jill asked him, clutching his hand.

"Just naturally coordinated," Daniel told her, with a grin.

"Don't listen to that," Ford told Jill. "It took him about ten years to be able to do it at all-"

Daniel reached out and gave Ford a good-natured palm to the face.

"Not ten years," Daniel told Jill. "But it did take a whole lot of practicing."

"What's going on in here?" Crane said, from the doorway.

"A bunch of showoffs," Ford told him.

"Do it again, Daniel, and show Crane," Guthrie encouraged.

"No way," Daniel said, holding up a hand. "Next time for sure I'd bust my head."

"Or your ass," Guthrie snickered.

Daniel reached out and hooked his arm around Guthrie's neck, wrestling him around. I noticed that Jill was

watching them, sort of smiling, but looking, I thought, wistful.

"You all must have had such a good time, growing up here," Jill said.

"Always out here practicing circus tricks, instead of doing their chores," Crane said.

"Hey, we never shirked our chores," Ford protested.

"We did have alot of fun," Daniel said.

"Yeah, we did," Ford said, in agreement.

"Did you ever jump down or do tricks from the loft, Crane?" Kristin asked, looking up at Crane.

"Sometimes. Most of the time, though, when I came down, it was because I was pushed, or tossed down," Crane said.

He went on to tell the story of how Adam and Brian and their friends would get a big tarp and make Crane jump down

onto it while they held the corners, and then try to see how high they could bounce him. I'd heard the story before, but

it was funny every time.

Later, when everybody was finished up with chores, and trooping into the house, we were a huge group, converging

over the kitchen, sitting on counters, and rooting thru cabinets.

"So-" Adam said, leaning one hip against the counter, "What's the plan for supper?"

"We could BBQ, except Crane is the best at that, and it's his birthday," Hannah said, with a laugh. "So, he shouldn't

have to do it."

"We could just have cake and ice cream and stuff for supper," Guthrie suggested.

"You think so, huh?" Hannah asked, giving Guthrie's cheek a pat.

"We could grab some takeout and bring it back," Daniel suggested.

"Takeout?" Brian said. "For this crowd? It would cost a fortune."

"We can all chip in," Ford suggested.

"I've got a few bucks," Daniel said.

Guthrie suggested pizzas, ordered from the Pizza Parlor in Angels Camp.

"There's no need for that," Crane protested.

"Hey, it's for your birthday," Clare said. "You don't get to nix the idea."

It was finally decided that we would call and order pizzas and then somebody would be dispatched to

go and pick them up to bring them back.

"How are we fixed for soda and beer?" Brian asked, going to the refrigerator and opening it to peer inside.

"I'll make a beer run, and go pick up the pizzas," Daniel offered.

Ford was the one who called in the pizza order, and after awhile Daniel sat down to pull his boots back on.

"Come on and ride with me, Crane," Daniel coaxed.

Crane said alright, and went to call Ivy, saying that they could pick Ivy up while they were in town.

I figured it was going to be one of our group nights, where everybody was hanging out, eating and playing

music, and all. So, I found a quick moment alone with Daniel, as he was heading out to his truck, to wait for

Crane.

I followed him out, and saw that he was pulling his truck over to the tool shed, where he got out, and pulled

out the air compressor hose and crouched down to put air in his left rear tire.

I walked over there, and he looked up at me as he put the air chuck onto the valve stem.

"Hi," I said.

"Hey."

"Does it have a nail or something in it?" I asked, gesturing to the tire.

"No, I think it's just low," he said.

Over the sound of the air going into the tire, I said, "I apologized to Jill about earlier."

Daniel looked up at me and I added, "I think she accepted it."

Daniel nodded, and said, "She did." He finished the air, and stood up, beginning to coil the hose back up. "Thank you for doin' it."

I shrugged, and said, "It's okay."

He went to put the hose away again, and I started back towards the house.

"Well, I guess I'll see you when you get back with the pizzas," I said.

"Wait a second," Daniel said, and I turned back around.

Daniel walked the few feet over to stand in front of me. "I know I sort of threw you for a loop, with everything lately. You and Guthrie. And,

well, everybody, really. It's a lot for you to take in. And, I'm sorry about that part of it."

He looked so serious, so nearly sad, that I felt a tugging at my heart.

"I need to try and understand things better," I said. "I mean, I'm not a little kid. Even though I act like it at times." I gave him a

half-smile.

"Listen," Daniel said, reaching out and taking one of my wayward curls in his fingers. "Ninety-five percent of the time-you're one

of the most amazing people that I know."

"It's just the other five percent of the time that you'd like to trade me in for a new sister, huh?" I said.

Daniel gave me a half-smile in return. "Naw," he said. "Not even then, squirt."

We exchanged a look, serious now, and though neither one of us said anything for a few moments, I felt the connection

between us. I'd missed that.

I could feel tears brimming at the surface, and I tried to contain them.

"What is it?" he asked, immediately sensing the change in my mood.

"I miss this," I said. "Being able to talk to you."

If anything, Daniel looked even sadder. "Have I made you feel like you couldn't talk to me?" he asked.

I hesitated. "Maybe. A little." I shrugged. "But, maybe it was just me. My perception of things."

"Maybe," he agreed. "More likely it was a little bit of both of us, at fault in it. You think?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

"Well, I promise to try to do better," he said.

"Me, too," I said.

"Okay," he said.

"Okay," I echoed.

He reached out and pulled me in tight against his chest.

7

The evening progressed-and it was a good one. One for the family memory book. The pizza was good, and most of the

brothers McFadden had several beers. Hannah had made Crane a birthday cake, and Nancy had brought the ice cream.

We all ate sitting around in the living room, and afterwards, Daniel played his guitar, and Ford got on the piano, and

we all sang. At one point, we were singing 'Crazy' by Patsy Cline. I was standing near to Jill, and I was so shocked by what

came out of her mouth, that I stopped singing. I nudged Kristin, who nudged Guthrie, until eventually everybody had

stopped singing, pretty much, except for Jill. She looked as though she was going to stop, too, but I saw Daniel

give her an encouraging nod, and she smiled at him, and then went for it. I've never heard anybody sing

it like that-well, except for Patsy Cline herself. What a set of pipes Jill had!

When the song was over, everybody clapped, and Jill smiled as though she was shy, but I could tell she liked it,

having everybody make over her singing that way. Daniel gave her a side hug, looking proud.

"Lord, girl, but you can sing," Brian said. High praise from Brian.

"Thanks," Jill told him, and now she really did look shy.

7

Kristin's mom called later, maybe about eight-thirty or so. Kristin came from the phone, looking distressed. I saw that,

and nudged Guthrie. The three of us went to a corner to huddle and talk.

"She's home," Kristin said.

"Well-that's good," I said, and then, at her sullen expression, I added, "Right?"

"Yes. It's good. She wants to send Buddy over here to pick me up. She said if I come home tonight, that we

can talk things over," Kristin said.

"Is that what you want to do?" Guthrie asked her, his forehead wrinkled in concern.

"I guess so," Kristin said, but she didn't sound very certain.

"Is Frank going to be there, too?" I asked.

"No. Not tonight. Buddy didn't get bail for him."

"Well, at least he won't be there," I said.

"Yeah," Kristin said, sounding less pleased than I would have thought.

"What is it, Kris?" I asked.

"I don't know-I guess I'm just confused-" Kristin said. She sighed. "And, then Buddy's just gonna yell all the way

home-"

"Yell at you?" I said, indignantly. "Why?"

"Oh, because I came over here-because he thinks I don't treat Frank right-all of that. He doesn't really need a reason," Kristin

said, and sighed again.

"He'd best not," Guthrie said, sounding quietly furious.

Kristin reached out and took Guthrie's hand. "It's okay."

"No, it's not," Guthrie protested. "None of it is okay."

I looked across the room and caught Adam's eye, and then Crane's. I gave a tiny motion, beckoning them over.

When they were both there, beside our little group, Adam said, "What's going on?"

"The phone was for Kristin," I said. "It was her mom."

"Oh," Adam said, and turned his gaze to Kristin. "Well, that's good. She's at home?"

Kristin gave a miserable looking nod of her head.

"She wants Kristin to come home tonight," I went on, when it seemed that neither Kristin nor Guthrie was going to

speak up.

Adam nodded, but said nothing then. Crane said, "It's good. You and your mom need to talk."

"I guess," Kristin said, less than enthusiastically.

"Buddy's coming," I continued, talking for Kristin. "And, she doesn't want to go with him, because he'll be

so mean about everything."

"Maybe not," Adam said. "Maybe he'll surprise you."

"No," Kristin said. "He won't."

I looked at Adam, and then at Crane. I knew what would be the best solution for tonight.

"I can take ya home," Guthrie said. "No need for Buddy to come out here, just so he can run his mouth at you all

the way home-"

"No," Adam said. "I don't want ya to do that, Guth."

"Why not?" Guthrie demanded.

Adam gave Guthrie a stern look meant to curb. "You know why," he said.

"I won't start anything, Adam," Guthrie protested.

"Whether you plan to, or not, things happen," Adam said.

"I don't want Buddy to provoke you into a fight," Kristin told Guthrie.

"I've got self-control," Guthrie said.

Just as I was going to suggest this very thing, Crane volunteered himself.

"How about if I ride along with you and Guthrie?" Crane offered.

Instantly, Kristin's face looked lighter. "Would you, Crane?" she asked.

"Sure. I will. If that's what you want," Crane said.

"Yes. It is," Kristin said, gratefully. "Thank you."

"Call your mom back and tell her you're getting a ride home, so Buddy doesn't head out," Crane told her.

"Yes. Okay," Kristin said, and went to the telephone.

I could tell Guthrie was edgy, and Adam could tell it, too, because he propelled Guthrie into another section of the

living room, and was talking to him, really seriously.

Kristin finished her phone call and went upstairs to gather up her things. A short while after that, Crane and Guthrie left

with Kristin. Hannah gave her a hug goodbye, and everybody else was telling her goodbye, and see you later, and all of that.

I was surprised, and more than a little curious, when I saw Brian pause beside Kristin, and put a hand on her shoulder.

He said something, something very quietly, to her. Kristin listened, and then nodded her head, and gave Brian a wan smile.

7

When everybody was clearing up a bit, and heading upstairs to shower, or get ready for bed, I was in the kitchen,

doing my shot.

Jill, carrying some of the glasses and empty cans from the living room, came into the kitchen then.

She put the glasses into the sink, and the cans into the trash.

"I had a foster parent who recycled," she said. "She sorted newspapers, and cans, and glass and all of that, and took

it to a recycling center. She would never have thrown away cans like this."

Before I could think anything of her comment, she said, "It was a gigantic pain."

I found myself giggling at the way she said that, and she looked at me in surprise.

"It sounds like a gigantic pain," I agreed.

"It was."

She took an orange from the fruit bowl in the middle of the kitchen table, and began peeling it.

"It must be tough on you, having to do that every day," she said, as I gave myself the shot.

"It's a gigantic pain," I said, reusing her previous words in humor.

Jill smiled. "Right. I can see why."

"It's better than the alternative, though," I said.

She nodded, as I began to put things away.

"You know, I never thought there were men like Daniel in this world," she said.

I leaned against the counter opposite her. "He's a real good guy, alright," I said.

"Yeah. I'd about given up hope-and then I met him. And, I thought, 'well, there he is. Now my baby

actually has a chance at a decent life, with a real good father'," she said.

She smiled at me, looking happy and content.

"Well," she said, holding up her peeled orange. "Goodnight, Harlie."

"Night," I said, and as she left the kitchen, I turned to watch her go, with a feeling of unrest.

7